The Aeduic War: A Test Mini AAR

[Owen Glyndwr]

Hello everyone, my name is Owen (In case everyone is wondering, Glyndwr is my namesake; hence the forum name), but anyways, some of you may have noticed me posting on some other threads on EB I or II, or maybe not, I'm not particularly outspoken on any forums, but that's not the point. I picked up EB about a month or so ago, drawn to it after having my head destroyed by the wealth of historic information, so being any youth type with Celtic blood (I'm Welsh), I have developed a fondness for Celtic, particularly Welsh History, and thusly chose the Casse for my first game. So I played for about 50 years; I unified Britain, and decided it would be neato to do a reverse Saxon invasion, and took Scandinavia, Danemark, and finally Germany. At this point I started really getting into the roleplaying side of the game, and felt inspired to do an AAR I looked around this site for inspiration, and noticed that there are very few (if any) Casse AARs, so I decided I wanted to do one of those. However, I was already in the middle of a Casse game, and I didn't want to restart my game, so that's when inspiration struck (). I said to myself, "Why not just do a mini AAR which would cover a conflict that I was about to initiate (A war with the Aedui, hence the name), so here I am.

Ok, now that the introductions are over, let's get a few more things concerning this AAR out of the way.
1. This is a story, meaning that I really would prefer not to hear strategic advice regarding the game. I know I do a lot of stupid things in the game, some may be intentional for story-telling purposes, some unintentional, nevertheless I'd like this thread to focus on the story and not the game.
2. This will be my first time doing anything like this. I have only ever written one fictitious story (A tale designed to follow the heroes' quest which I did in my Literature Class, and was set in Rome, pretty neato,eh) and nothing ever to the scale this is intended to be. That being said, while I don't want game advice, I'd love writing advice, so long as it's constructive and as non-negative as you can make it, also if appropriate, I wouldn't mind positive feedback either , as how this works out may determine if I want to continue on beyond this conflict.
3. The settings I'm playing on are M/M (I don't want to hear it) and I think medium unit size (whichever one places most units between 60 and 120 units per division).
4. The last really big one is that I don't know the traditional name for geographical features, so for certain things, at least for now, I will be using the modern names (especially for rivers), which means that if anyone would want to provide me with a map of Europe which has traditional names, it would be greatly appreciated.

So anyways, on to the story:

Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Prelude to a Conflict
Scroll down
Chapter 2: Crisis in Cruddain
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Chapter 3:The Conflict Begins
Part 1
Part 2
Part3

Chapter 1: Prelude to a Conflict

Maglocunos Dyn Tyfus lounged on the couch of his living room, reflecting on his past life, he intended to eventually compose a poem, an epic, recalling the events of the crisis at Bagacos, an epic he hoped would be remembered for centuries.
It had been over four years since those horrible two months when the Aedui, long time friends and allies of his people, betrayed their trust and layed seige to the newly consolidated city of Bagacos, hoping to add more territory to their already massive empire. At the time it looked as though that betrayal could have been the very end of the Casse's empire; The country was exhausted, wearied by years of war with the Sweboz, impoverished from supporting two large armies while still trying to find a way to consolidate the vast domains they had gained from the war, and on top of this, the German cities were rioting on a massive scale, yes it seemed as though this one attack would have spelled the end of Britain as a continental power.
All of the Casse's dreams would have been crushed had it not been for the valiant efforts Maglocunes. At the time, he was a young man, ambitious man from the Germanic town of Gawjam Heruskoz. Although he was of high birth, his family was destitute; much of their power and welth was lost when the British army took over. But he was an intelligent, perceiptive and most importantly ambitious man. He realized that the Casse stood no chance of facing the Aedui, and so he decided to travel to the Governor's manor to request permission to seek a ceasefire with the Aedui.
The Governor did not believe him at first, thought him crazy, but Maglocunos was persistant, and eventually got the permission he needed. Orders in hand, he crossed the Rhine, and rushed off to Bibracte to speak with the High King of the Aedui.
Maglocunes spent weeks in Bibracte, he visited the High King, Teutomatos moc Viridorix every day. Eventually, Maglocunes succeeded. Leveraging the Aedui's conflicts with Rome and the Arverni, Maglocunes was able to convince Teutomatos that war with Britain was not in his best interests, and after, another week of meteing out the details, a ceasefire between the Aedui and Britain was finally anounced. The greatest crisis the British had faced since the Sweboz sacked the British colony at Gawjam Kimbroz had ended, and it was all thanks to he Maglocunes. As a sign of friendship to the British, and admiration for Maglocunes, Teutomacos gave Maglocunes a beautiful mansion in the center of Bibracte, within walking distance of the Palace. As a reward for his valiant efforts to the British people, The British High King Massorias named Maglocunes as the official ambassador to the Aedui. It was a great honor, especially considering Maglocunes' Germanic bloodline.
So now, four years later, Maglocunes decided to compose a poem about the event, hoping to both further his own fame, and garner popularity among the native British, who were still distrustful of him due to his heritage. Maglocunos was just about to sketch out the first few lines when he heard a knock at the door. "Enter," he growled, irritated by the interruption, A short, squat man of 16 entered the room. Sweat dripped from his long black hair, hanging briefly off of his short, newly developed whiskers of his upper lip before dripping to the floor. The mans thin arms were trembling, the sealed letter in his hand shaking in his hand, flamboyantly displaying the fear he felt; nothing good ever happened to him when the master was angered like this.
Maglocunos stroked is short, wiry blonde beard as his blue eyes glared down on his pupil. "What do you want?" he growled, more loudly this time.
"S-sir", his pupil stammered, "A message j-just arr-rived f-from C-c-c-Camulosadae, i-it bears the High King's s-seal."
"Well stop with your stammering and bring it here!", Maglocunos ordered, more irritated by his pupil's foolish nervousness.
The pupil hunched down, and slowly made his way to his master's couch, stumbling along the way. He reached out to give the letter to his master. Maglocunos snatched the letter from his hand. The pupil lingered as Maglocunos broke the seal, hoping to hear what important mission Massorias had for his master. "If that's all you had for me, then you may leave", Maglocunos said, without even glancing up. The pupils cheeks reddened as he briskly made his way out of the room, the door closing behind him without a sound. With all spying eyes gone, Magloclunos opened the letter and looked at the message. It was short; Massorias' messages always were; but as always, the message bore great weight. It ran:

Go to Teutomatos, demand the following territories: Bellovacaea Belgae, Mrogaule, and Armoriae. Coerce by any means necessary, threaten with war if all else fails. Of he still doesn't accept, send a letter to General Eirion ta Cingetorix with the following message: Set the hounds upon the stag

.

Maglocunos set his papyrus down, slowly got up from his couch, and walked over to put on his best robes.


Five minutes later Maglocunos was ascending the hill of Bibracte to the palace of the High King of the Aedui. He had been going over the command of his King continuously since he left his abode, and felt that he had come up with a sufficient argument to get the message across. As he crossed the threshold of the palace, he ruminated his argument one last time, and instructed the guard to announce his entrance.
He followed the guard into the main hall of the palace. There he saw the High King, talking in hushed voice with his chief advisor, Vindolorix. The King was a handsome man; Long Black hair with a long black mustache. As always, the man did not betray his emotions, however, Maglocunos could tell from the expression on the Vindolorix's face that something was occupying both of their minds, and whatever it was, it was displeasing to him. "Hail King, the British Ambassador, Maglocunos". Malgocunos approached the dais and bowed before the High King.
Teutomatos' face brightened. "Welcome, friend, what can I do for you?" He said in the booming voice typical of a man a sure of himself as he.
"Hail King!" Maglocunos, said in his usual monotone voice, "I have news from the capital city of Camulosadae." Maglocunos paused for effect and then continued, "His highness Massorias demands that you grant him command of the three provinces of Bellovacaea Belgae, Mrogaule, and Armoriae."
Teutomatos' eyes narrowed, his lips turning sharply down, "And why," he said calmly, though without the enthousiasm of the introductions,"would I do that?"
"Well sir, the reasons for this are twofold. Firstly, the regions to the north are more firmly attatched to our land and our people, than you, the people demand it."
"Still what could the British possibly do with that land? Are you not still recovering from the massive economic crash you experienced during the Sweboz war?"
"Our funds are sufficiently recovered, and the Sweboz lands sufficently consolidated that we are now prepared to take these lands into the fold of British protection, where they belong."
"Hmm", affirmed the King, skeptically, and the second reason?"
"The second reason is sir, that I hear tell that the Arverni and Romani have entered once again into an alliance against you, and that as we speak the Romani are sending a Legion north to retake the Cities on the Mediterranean. So therefore, perhaps if you grant us these provinces, it will free up your troops, and such an act of good faith between our two people might entice my King to come to your aide." Maglocunos was bluffing of course, no one had heard anything from the Romani since they lost Taras and Rhegion to the Kart-Hadast, but he was banking on that factor of the unknown; if he didn't know, then perhaps Teutomatos was uninformed as well, for all the High King knew, there was indeed a Roman Legion crossing into Transalpine Gaul this very moment.
Teutomatos' lips curved upward as Maglocunos looked on in horror. "The last I heard from my spies," Teutomatos said icily, "The Romans had just sent their sole legion south to re-take Taras. And besides, even if the Romans were sending an army our way, The Aedui are strong enough that the mighty Romans could send a thousand legions and they'd still meet with the same results: nothing", he roared. All of his guards grunted in approval.
Maglocunos grimaced at his failed attempt of coercion, but quickly recomposed himself, "Need I remind you, O King, that we have an army, 1200 strong veterans, waiting at the borders?"
"What exactly are you suggesting?" said Teutomatos cooly.
I'm saying, King, that if you do not grant us what we want, we are prepared to take it by force if necessary.
Teutomatos' brows furrowed, his jaw clenched in anger as he shouted, "Get out of my house, get out of my city, and get out of my land!" The guards reached to their longswords as Maglocunos turned sharply arrowed and escorted himself out of the palace.

The sun beat down on Maglocunos' neck as he made his way Eastward towards the Roman Camp. After the fiasco in the palace, war with the Aedui was sure to come, and the British would need some allies, so Maglocunos, first sent a message to Einion ta Cingetorix, as per Massorias' instructions, and then, with his pupil beside him made his way to the camp of Nvmerivs Calpvrnivs Piso. After he was introduced by the guards, Maglocunos entered the tent of Piso. The man was a typical Roman, short hair, clean face, big nose, and bigger ego. His brown hies looked down his nose with scorn at the "dirty barbarian entering his tent". "What do you want" he asked, politely, but brusquely in Latin.
Naturally Maglocunos was as well trained in Latin as he was in Gallic, and he responded: "I would just like to announce that war is about to break out between we the Britains, and the Aedui. I have come on behalf of the great people of the island of Britain we would like to extend an offer of an alliance to the Romans, and we also ask that you come to our aide in this upcoming war."
"Typical," replied Piso, "you Barbarians are always getting into your silly little squabbles, and it always comes down to us civilized people to sort the mess out. However your plea is not unwarranted, and it is true that we hold nothing but contempt for those mongrels, we shall consider your request, please wait outside while I think it over."
Maglocunos waited outside for several hours with no word about how soon until the decision would be made. Maglocunos waited well into the night, but still with no reply. Finally Piso called Maglocunos into his tent. "I have thought the matter over, and have come to the conclusion that this matter is far more important for me to make, so I have dispatched a messenger to give this information to the Senate. I'm sorry, you'll have to wait for the Senate's reply, fear not, I shall provide you with a tent to stay in while you wait.
Maglocunos stormed out of the tent, "Why is it that "civilized people are always so dependant on advice", he thought, "are their leaders so distrustful of their diplomats that they don't allow them to make decisions on the field." With that, Magloclunos marched off tot he tent prepared for him and went to sleep.
One week passed before the messenger arrived with the message from the Senate. Piso called Maglocunos into his tent. Magloclunos entered just as Piso was breaking the seal. "Well?" inquired Magloclunos, "What does the Senate say?"
"The Senate says that they are favorable to an alliance between us, however, they do not feel that Roman troops should be wasted in a war not in its best interests. Know this however: The people of Rome look favorably on the upcoming war on the Aedui, and that when you march on the betrayers, you march with the blessings of the Roman People."
Magloclunos left the camp, irritated by Roman indecisiveness. "That," he said, "is the last time I'll ever trust a Roman to do a Briton's work", and with that, he made his way nothwest, towards home. He knew he probably would have to return to Bibracte soon to work out the peace negotiations, as he predicted the war to be quick and successful, but he wanted to enjoy as much of his time back home as he could; he hadn't seen it in four years. "Maybe I'll finally have some time to work on that poem I've been wanting to write. I better finish it soon though, as I forsee that I may have to write another one about the events which just passed soon enough!"


Einion ta Cingetorix lay on the furs in his large tent, gorging himself on stag's meat, fresh caught. His second, Aron Moc Vindex sat in a chair beside him. Aron watched with contempt as his cousin sat there stuffing his face with meat he didn't even catch. In fact, it was Aron who had shot the arrow that felled the beast, how irritating it was that someone so underserving could simply claim his game, which he had painstakingly hunted in the nearby forests for two hours. Aron's brooding was suddenly interrupted when a messenger burst into the tent, his black hair was damp, and his clothing streaked with mud. The messenger strode up to Einion and handed him a sealed message. Einion wiped his greasy fingers off on his cloak and slowly took the note from the courier's hand. He broke the seal and read the message. The corners of his sullied mouth thurned upwards into a crooked smile. He started laughing as he handed the letter to his cousin. Aron quickly reached out and took the letter. As he was reading the note, Einion got up and turned to his senior warrior: "Inform the men that training starts at dawn tomorrow." He turned and adressed the men in the tent: we're going to war with the Aedui!" His men roared, as the sun set on the last day of Summer, 220 BC.

[V.T. Marvin]

That great! Nice story and the only Casse AAR since long ago. Good job!

[SwissBarbar]

Very good ^^ Go and kick those Aedui's arses ^^

[the man with no name]

I'm looking forward to thia AAR even if it is only a mini one!

[Owen Glyndwr]

Thanks guys I'll probably do another write up sometime this weekend, depends on how I'm feeling.

A lot of the area to be covered in the AAR has already been played. I've already planned for another 4 chapters without playing. So it's just a matter of doing the write-ups!

[Owen Glyndwr]

Chapter 2: Crisis in Cruddain, Part 1

The Island Hibernia had been a problem to the British Kingdom for generations. Cassean Generals, once greeted as liberators when they arrived at the great cities of Emain-Macha and Ivernis, were scorned as brutes and usurpers not two hours after their departure. For a time, the Cassean Kings were content to leave their neighbors the Hibernians to their own devices. So long as Tribute was paid, and the hatred remained on their island, what did a little unrest matter to the Casseans? Besides, the Casseans were far to focused on the colonization efforts in northern Germannia to be preoccupied with the Hibernian people. However, little did the Casseans know, but all of this was about to change.

Trwtian was seated on the floor, listening intently, trying to pick up on the information his teacher Mergatorix was professing, however, he still could not make out a single word over the din of shouting happening just outside. Unsuccessful in paying attention to Mergatorix, though not for lack of trying, Trwtian instead resigned himself to listening to the mob.

The riots had been going on all day. The mob first arrived at the Druidic sanctuary about an hour after breakfast was taken, they were an unruly lot; most were disaffected by the recent mandates made by the Druidic council regarding the removal of all weapons from the city. Those that did not care about this came because they valued their lives, and feared retaliation lest they be suspected of siding with the unpopular Druidic government.

The people of the city of Emain-Macha had been under Druidic rule ever since the Casse deposed their king in the early 260s BC, and since then, there was never peace within the city walls. Angry citizens voiced their opinions strongly, and the Druidic Council had always tried to keep the citizenry's best interests at heart. But the Druid's policies, though magnanimous in their eyes were viewed by the gentry as despicable, heinous, even tyrannical. Despite the clear disaffection between the Druids and everyone else, conflicts in the city had remained surprisingly nonviolent, that is until one week previously.

Alorix was a retainer for one of the largest families in the city, the Magleis. One day he was gambling with some retainers from another one of the large families. After losing a substantial sum, he accused another of the gamblers. The accused, a man named Deirris was a member of another prominent family within the city, the Comulae. When the lowly retainer accused him of cheating, he was outraged. In response to the charges against him, he pulled out a dagger and stabbed the man, and then fled to the sanctuary of his family's manor.

Unfortunately for Deirris, Alorix was a highly favored retainer, a confidante and close friend of one of the more prominant members, a young, hot headed man named Duratios. Upon hearing of the death of his close friend, Duratrios demanded vengeance. He took up his sword, and went off in search of Deirris. Duratrios cornered the murderer in an alley and proceeded to kill the man, disfiguring him in the process.

The men of the Comulae formed together and marched to the manor of the Magleis. They demanded that Duratrios be offered so that justice could be meted out. Instead the Magleis met their rivals with cold steel. The two families battled with one another well into the night. Many were killed, and later a fire broke out, engulfing the city and killing hundreds more. The Druids were outraged, and so issued a ban on weapons within the city, hoping to prevent any future conflict.

So Trwtian returned to the present. Than order surely was the reason behind the mob, and frankly, Trwtian agreed with the mob. Weaponry was a sign of status in their culture, and although practical, the restriction was also very cruel. However as a young man, no older than seventeen, his place was not to question, but to accept.

Suddenly Mergatorix's lecture, and Trwtian's daydreaming were interrupted by the entrance of another younger initiate. He obviously looked very perturbed as he briskly approached the master. "What is it child?" Inquired Mergatorix.

"Master, the crowd outside is getting out of hand. High Druid Ugain is requesting all members of the council to go out to address the mob."

Mergatorix sighed, wearied in his old age by the incessant complaining of the gentry. He slowly rose to his feet. "Very well, pupils, this lesson will have to be postponed temporarily. Wait here, I shall return shortly." And with that he strode quickly out of room, leaving the pupils to their own devices.

"Hey, guys, let's go watch the council shall we?"

"But the m-master sssaid-," tried another before being sharply interrupted.

"Forget what that old fool said!" The first pupil exclaimed, "I'm not missing this for the world!" The boy got up and left the room, the rest of the boys trailing hesitantly behind him.

The boys crouched behind a low wall as they looked out to the front of the temple complex. The could see the Druidic Council, all nine of them standing before a large crowd. There were hundreds of them, all young between twenty and thirty. They looked outraged, and in the center of it all stood who Trwtian assumed to be Duratios. This was the first time Trwtian had gotten a chance to see the man. He had long, fiery, red hair with a prominent red mustache. Trwtian could not understand how he was doing it, but it looked as though the man was staring down all nine druids simultaneously. He was definitely someone Trwtian did not want to face. Finally the boys got close enough that they could hear what was being said.

"We only did it to prevent any future unnecessary violence," said Ugain calmly.

"Bah!" exclaimed Duratios. "You never were thinking of our safety, but your own. Admit it, you just want to prevent anyone from contesting your power. You arrogant Druids are just drunk on the wine of power and will do whatever it takes to maintain access to the grapes!" The crowd shouted in affirmation.

"Power?" exclaimed Mergatorix, "What would we possibly do with power? Remember, this would not have happened if you could simply have kept your temper and your sword point at bay. All this violence need not have happened, it is on your conscience boy."

Duratios' eyes narrowed. His lips rose to form a distinct snarl, "You would do well to not to call me boy!" he growled. "You are all a bunch of old fools! You do know not our justice, our people, nor our ways. You know only what your predecessors tell you to know. You are useless, and we would be better off without you incompitent, senile,, old fools." Duratios grinned, sure that his words hit their mark, and the point was made. The speech got the mob riled up. They started shouting, and started moving about, some could be heard suggesting that the "tyrants" should be disposed. The Druids realized that something must be done before the area erupted in yet more violence.

Ugain stepped forward, raising his hands in a vain attempt to quiet the mob, however the attempt was met with yet more shouting from the crowd. "Silence!" He commanded. It was at this moment that Trwtian realized just how frightening Ugain was. He was a tall man, with a great mustache and long hair, both white as snow. His great blue eyes pierced through the skin and straight into the heart, stopping the organ altogther, even while his great voice shattered eardrums and chilled bones. The entire crowd was silenced almost immediately. "Now," he continued more calmly this time, "I know you are upset by this turn of events, but it was a necessity enacted to protect the people of this city from unneccesary feudal war. If you can prove to us that you can go about solving problems without violence, then perhaps we may lift the ban, but until that happens, we will maintain possession of your weapons. Now please, be on your way!" The crowd was silenced, and it looked to Trwtian as if the crowd was going to disperse when suddenly calamity struck.

To this day it is still unknown who it was who threw the stone, but the aggression it spurred was almost immediate. The crowd was turning to leave when suddenly, a stone, thrown by someone in the crowd struck Ugain in the face. He clutched at his bloodied face, as someone else exclaimed, "Kill thge tyrant!" The crowd turned and descended on the defenseless Druids.

Trwtian had never witness anything so disgusting before in his life. He and the other initiates watched in horror as the mob litterally ripped the Druids to pieces. He saw his master Mergatorix pleaing for his life, tears streaming down his face as several men began to beat him to a bloody pulp.
The boys were horrified, some were crying, others could not even move. Suddenly a rioter noticed the pupils, and pointed at them, suddenly several men were bearing down on their position. Trwtian turned and ran, as did a few others. The rest, still dumbstruck by the carnage were rooted in the ground. Trwtian was too afraid to look back, but he could only imagine what became of his friends.

Trwtian and his fellows burst into the complex with the rioters hot on their tails. The boys immediately began dashing from one room to the next, trying to find somewhere to hide. From his position behind a curtain, Trwtian listened in horror as his friends were systematically found and killed. As they approached the curtain where he was hiding, Trwtian decided that if he was to die, he would die like a man.

The curtain was drawn back, and Trwtian jumped out at his would be attacker. He pinned the man to the ground and began punching him, biting him, kicking him, anything he could. Though he may die, he would at least mark his existance on the body of another. Suddenly another came from behind. He picked up Trwtian and pinned his arms behind him. The other man got up off of the floor, grinned and reeled back to punch Trwtian. Trwtian readied himself for the impact.

"Wait!" came a voice from behind. "Leave this one, he has spunk, I like it."

"But why?" Asked the man denied his chance at retribution.

"Because I said so, now come along and bring the boy along with you." Trwtian heard footsteps dying away behind him. Trwtian's attacker waited until the man had left. He grinned, and then landed a blow to Trwtian's head. Trwtian sighed and then all went dark as he passed out.


When Trwtian awoke, the mob had reformed, and Duratios was standing on a box, and was about to address the crowd: "My people!" he roared, "the tyranny is over. No longer shall the Druids nor their Casseian overlords busy themselves with our customs and our business. From this point forward I hereby declare us seperate from the Casse, and soon we shall liberate Invernis as well. Hibernia shall be ours, and no one elses!" The crowd roared. Trwtian was afraid. He was not afraid for his own fate, however, but the fate of his people, for Casseian retribution was sure to be swift, and who knows what they may do for such rebelliousness.

Later that night, when the mob had returned home to sleep, one remaining druid slipped out of town. Rather than fleeing to the complex as most had done, he fled towards the town, and hid himself in an empty shack. He knew now what he must do, the High King must be informed of the rebellion, his destination: Camulosadae.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Hey, sorry for the double post, but there are some things I'd like to clarify.

Ok, so I'd like to talk a little bit about the words I'm using regarding geography. Ok, so the main Island, that is, modern day England, Wales and Scotland are refferred to as Casse. That is the center of the Kingdom. So that is why I used the term Casseian or Casse a lot in the previous post. The "Hibernians" (for lack of a better name, I reverted to the latin (right?) name for Ireland), consider themselves highly independant of the Casse, as, as was said, their governements were left largely unchanged with the exception of removing the king of Emain-Macha because he wouldn't bow to the High King of Casse . So anyways, because of this, the Hibernians consider themselves independant of the "Casse" and likewise, the Casse consider the Hibernians lowly and "barbaric". After Casse and Hibernia, there is Germania, Casse's newly acquired territory. Germanai is divided into two parts. The Scandinavian areas were originally "colonized" by myself in I believe the 250s or so, and are considered Greater Germania. People from this area are more highly regarded by Casseians than those people of Lesser Germania (Yep you guessed it, the rest of Germania), because those from Greater Germania are actual Casseians whereas those from Lesser Germania are just subjugated Sweboz. Finally when, (I mean *if* hehe) I get the land I intend to from this war. Those three provinces will be combined with Nervaea Belgae to form Belgica.

The term "Briton" (for the people) and Britain (for the land) is a term invented by the Romans, and adopted by basically everyone else, which is used to incorporate the whole of the isles. A Casseian wouldn't do this ordinarily and they would refer directly to the province in question (Sometimes even more in-depth than that).

Kind of hard to understand, I know. I'll try to get a map up later, that would be nice, wouldn't it?

So I think it's kind of neat because I've role-played in this whole class structure based around race and heritage. So on the top you have the Casseians, followed by the Geman Casseians (from Greater Germania) followed by Begicans (only one province so far), followed by Hibernians (Still of the isles, but different culture) followed by Germans (Casseians are still angered by the Sweboz betrayal, and view Germans as low born, rude savages, worthy of contempt)

So yeah, thanks for bearing with me, I know it was probably a little hard to understand, but it's late, ok? Anyways, I just wanted to clear that up, and show you guys that when I use these terms I'm actually being (sort of) cognizant about it, and it's not like (sort of) I'm just throwing these phrases around willy nilly.

But anywho, I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. I hope you enjoy reading the write-up as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[Olaf Blackeyes]

Its ur thread. No need to say sorry, can double and triple post whenever u want.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Chapter 2: Crisis in Cruddain, Part 2

All was quiet in the Capital city of Camulosadae, the greatest city in Casseia. It was late in the evening; the market had long since closed for the day, the sleepy guards sat quietly upon the city walls, awaiting an attack which they well knew would never come. Indeed, all was silent, even the barking of dogs, and the hooting of owls, common sounds to the residents of the fair city, were inaudible, all was dead silent. All was quiet as the city slept. All, save for the palace. For the palace, this was a joyous day: the greatest hero of the Kingdom, Caratadoc yr Mar, the conqueror of the Germans, the savior of Greater Germany was staying in the city.

Caratdoc was not a family member, but he was regarded as such. He was pronounced the senior general of the 1st Casseian Army at the age of 24. At the age of 30, after 6 years of hard training, he was shipped to Greater Germania, where he first subjugated the natives, and then established the first cities of the colony of Greater Germania, or New Casseia, as some called it. 9 years later, the Sweboz betrayed the Casseians, their allies, and captured the colonial city of Gawjam Kimbrioz. The sack of that city incited Caratadoc into a fury, he vowed to kill 10 germans for every innocent Casseian who was killed in that city. The task was something he took to immediately and vigorously, capturing Gawjam Heruskoz and Swebotraustastamnoz in just 2 years. A year and a half later, at the battle of the Oder, he decisively defeated the main Sweboz army, decimating 2,000 Germans in the process. Despite some setbacks at the Strait of Rugen, he eventually won another decisive battle and took the city of Gawjam Rugoz. The capture of Gawjam Rugoz broke the Sweboz, they agreed to become the protectorate of the Casse, left with their last stronghold at Gawjam Silengoz.

The war was over. Caratadoc's mission now being accomplished, so at the age of 51, he retired as commander of the army, and started his long journey home to Ynys Mon. So here he was, Caratadoc had just put into port outside of Camulasadae earlier that day, and so was staying the day at Camulosadae before carrying on to his old freinds, his old family, and his old life.

The party was drawing to a close, now only 9 remained, the rest having long since gone off to bed, some voluntarily, while others were dragged off in a drunken stupor by their attendents. They were arranged all arranged on a couch, watching the German dancing girls Caratadoc himself had taken prisoner from the ruins of Gawjam Rutoz. Of course there was Massorias, the King, he had just turned 60 years of age. His hair, once thick, and dark brown, now gray. His face, however, was still the same old, unwavering face, unemotional as always. To his right sat his wife, Navi. She was beautiful once, dark brown eyes, fair white skin, with an angelic face, completely unblemished. Now she was old, her fair face, now old and wrinkled, her long brown hair, now white as snow. Seated to the left of Massorias was his older brother, Mowg, delightfully given the epithet of "the fat" by his friends. The epithet was true, he was extremely overweight, his face fat, and putrid, with greasy white hair. Despite being the eldest son of the previous high king, Barae, he didn't resent being passed up for succession; he was far more content to enjoy his lugurious lifestyle as a prince. Seated beside Mowg was his wife Vallicoros. She too was fat, though nowhere near a large as her husband, and was quite a perfect match for Mowg, both equally uncaring about politics, and both contained an equisite love for all things exotic.

Next to Vallicoros, was seated Brigomalos, Massorias's eldest son. He was 29 years old and very attractive: long, dark brown hair, a great mustache, and fair face beneath it. Within his outward attractiveness lay a mind as powerful as his father's. Additionally, he was lively, unselfish, and very upbeat. Unfortunately, he was fearful of public speaking, and did not enjoy being in the limelight, and this fact alone would perhaps be enough to keep him from the line of succession. Beside Brigomalos was Oudiae, his equally lovely wife. Next was Caratadoc, the man of the hour. He was old, now 52 years old, and his mustache and hair were gray to complement this. On his face and arms he bore the scars of a man who had seen much blood in his time. His eyes, however were his most striking feature: they were bright blue, and when looked into, men often swore one could hear the dying screams of the Sweboz he killed personally, a most horrific experience indeed. Finally, on the far end of the couch sat Meriadoc. Meriadoc was Massorias's chief advisor, and a close friend at that.

The music stopped, the women ceased their dancing, and promptly were escorted from the hall. Finally Caratadoc broke the silence: "So, what did my lords think of the entertainment?"

"Oh, most spectacular!" exclaimed Mowg immediately.

Caratadoc smiled, "Yes, I do believe they were an excellent find. The blond one claims that she was once a princess. She was very difficult to break, but she came around eventually." He broke off and addressed his king: "And what did your highness think?" he inquired.

"Most amusing," said Massorias quietly. As always, his face was unreadable, and his statements were concealed and controlled. Caratadoc frowned, bit was not dismayed.

"Oh, don't be so neutral brother!" shouted Mowg, the alcohol interfering with his judgement of volume, "Anyways don't let my brother here get you down, Caratadoc. Let's hear of your exploits in Germania, tell us about how you shamed the Sweboz king!"

"Again, sire? I've told you twice today already!" said Caratadoc. Mowg nodded, urging Caratadoc on.

"Very well, so there I was, outnumbered two to one, to my rear, the Oder, and before me, the entirety of the Sweboz army, I arranged my forces and-" Caradoc's story was quickly interrupted as the doors to the hall were flung open. Behind the doors, the members of the party could just make out the sillouette of a small man, a young boy by the looks of it. He entered the hall, and quickly strode up to the couch where the nine were seated. Caratadoc could now see the boy clearly. He was a druid, or more likely a student, although you wouldn't be able to make it out by his appearance; his clothes were covered in mud, and he was drenched to the bone; he had obviously been traveling for many days, perhaps weeks even. He reached the couch and kneeled before the King.

"My lord," he said hurriedly."

"What is it boy?" Inquired Meriadoc.

"I-it-it's," He stuttered

"Well out with it!" Ordered Mowg.

"Mowg be quiet! You'll friegthen the boy!" shouted Oudiae. "Now, child, what is the problem, what has happened. There's no need to be afraid, you can tell us anything."

The boy glanced up, awed by the woman addressing him, but quickly returned his gaze the floor, lest he be spotted looking at another man's wife. "My lords," he continued, "It's the city of Emain Macha, it has been taken over."

"Taken over, what do you mean?" inquired Meriadoc.

"A nobleman of the town, Duratrios gathered together a large following and declared the town independent of the Casse."

The group started shifting in their seats, murmuring to one another. All except for one: Massorias did not take his eyes off of the boy, his hands knitted together in front of his face. "What of the Druids in charge before?" He asked finally.

"All dead, Duratrios killed the lot of them, I was lucky enough to slip out of town, undiscovered." Massorias's face still did not change, however the rest of the group was outraged. Their murmuring became loud conversation.

Mowg eventually turned to his brother: "Brother, this is nothing to be frightened of, the Hibernians have always been an unruly lot, the uncivilized louts, so long as they keep it on their side of the island, what difference should it make if they decide to call themselves independent?"

"No," responded Massorias, "The Hibernians are a part of the empire, and if this cancerous affliction spreads to Ivernis, we could lose the whole island. No, this is not something we can ignore; this rebellion needs to be dealt with."

Caratadoc rose quickly: "My liege, let me send an army to deal with the rebels! I'm sure with a few hundred men, I could have the Casseian flag flying oe'r the city in a matter of weeks!"

"No," said Massorias emphatically. A show of force will only make their leader a martyr and further their cause. Besides, you've done enough for this nation, I'll not see you fight any more, you're retired, and retired you shall stay.

"My liege," said Meriadoc finally, "I agree that excessive force would not be met favorably by the Hibernians, but perhaps if we sent a small force to administer judgement, perhaps it would be wise to send someone from Ynys Mon to the town, someone they can respect.

Massorias smiled finally, "My thoughts exactly."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Meriadoc, "I'll send a message to Ynys Mon at once!"

"No," said Massorias, "This is a serious crisis, and it cannot be any old family member who is sent off. Nay, this is a man who must be understanding, while not weak, He must be able to administer judgement, while not appearing harsh or cruel. This is a decision which must be made with the utmost care,a job which only a King is capable of accomplishing." Then Massorias turned to Caratadoc: "General, I believe you were on your way to Ynys Mon? How would you fell if I were to accompany you on your journey?"

"It-it would be an honor my liege"

Massorias smiled: "Well then, it's settled. I'll accompany Caratadoc to Ynys Mon, and while there, I'll handpick the future King of Emain Macha."

"No!" exclaimed Navi, "My husband, you are too old to make this journey, I don't think you are capable of the trip."

"That is nonsense," replied Massorias, "I am not as old as you think, I will take the trip." Massorais got up and yawned. "See to it that this boy is given a room to sleep in, and is provided for, I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow, I travel for Ynys Mon." He said as he left the hall for his room.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Hey guys, what do you think? Are you irritated that there isn't any action going on? Or perhaps that this story is such a large departure than from the first chapter? Is it perhaps the lack of screenshots?
Or is it just my writing voice? Whatever it is, I would really like to have some kind of feedback, I would very much appreciate it.

[Olaf Blackeyes]

Well u just got that kind of bad luck i guess. Hey ive gotten my AAR through three acts without too many comments as well. Just keep going ull get there.

[the man with no name]

Dude no offense but i don't think this AAR is that popular. However, i like it, although it would be better if you got the next battle in. Keep it up man. Asking chirugeon about how 2 write an AAR might help. Anyhow

Also is this your first AAR?

[Owen Glyndwr]

Yeah, I know it's not very popular, which is very interesting, because it appears to me that the guide I'm writing is extremely popular in comparison. However, I'm just going to keep writing, because, in truth, I'm not really doing this for anyone's benefits save my own. Really I'm writing this firstly because I think it helps me get into the story a lot more roleplaying wise, and it also gives me some practice in writing and storytelling.

In regards to the action, it's coming soon, don't worry. The thing is that I waited a whole half a year between the "diplomat chapter" and the start of the actual action. In the game I roleplayed this as "training and preparing for the war logistically," but in reality I did it because I didn't want to get caught in the snow. So essentially the chapter I'm writing now is just bridging the gap between the declaration of war and the initiation of conflict, while simultaneously granting the reader insight into the political and cultural stage occuring on the hometurf.

The current chapter has two more "scenes" as I'm beginning to refer to them, and then we'll finally get to see some action. After that it's more political stuff, and then we're all caught up to the point I have played, so who knows from that point.

I have been reading through my story, and am starting to realize that my voice is pretty bad, and the story is pretty scattered; I find myself digressing a lot to fill in backstory, but it doesn't fit into the present action. Also, when I tell the story, I attempt to tell from third person semi-omniscient (meaning story teller isn't part of the story, and follows one character, including thoughts and feelings), but it comes out as third-person completely omniscient, which creates problems because the story ends up appearing scattered and unfocused.

[Ruepelheinz]

I enjoy reading your AAR. Hopefully, you will keep going.

[the man with no name]

Yeah, I know it's not very popular, which is very interesting, because it appears to me that the guide I'm writing is extremely popular in comparison. However, I'm just going to keep writing, because, in truth, I'm not really doing this for anyone's benefits save my own. Really I'm writing this firstly because I think it helps me get into the story a lot more roleplaying wise, and it also gives me some practice in writing and storytelling.

In regards to the action, it's coming soon, don't worry. The thing is that I waited a whole half a year between the "diplomat chapter" and the start of the actual action. In the game I roleplayed this as "training and preparing for the war logistically," but in reality I did it because I didn't want to get caught in the snow. So essentially the chapter I'm writing now is just bridging the gap between the declaration of war and the initiation of conflict, while simultaneously granting the reader insight into the political and cultural stage occuring on the hometurf.

The current chapter has two more "scenes" as I'm beginning to refer to them, and then we'll finally get to see some action. After that it's more political stuff, and then we're all caught up to the point I have played, so who knows from that point.

I have been reading through my story, and am starting to realize that my voice is pretty bad, and the story is pretty scattered; I find myself digressing a lot to fill in backstory, but it doesn't fit into the present action. Also, when I tell the story, I attempt to tell from third person semi-omniscient (meaning story teller isn't part of the story, and follows one character, including thoughts and feelings), but it comes out as third-person completely omniscient, which creates problems because the story ends up appearing scattered and unfocused.

It's ok man. I've been reading the forumss for almost a year now. If you haven't noticed, many good AARs don't have that many posters (as in people posting lololololololololol) What really counts, is the number of views. Keep those updates comming!!!!!!!

[Owen Glyndwr]

I finally got around to outlining the chapter, man it's going to be a doozy. I'll do the write-up tomorrow.

[the man with no name]

I finally got around to outlining the chapter, man it's going to be a doozy. I'll do the write-up tomorrow.

YOU BETTER.......jk

[Owen Glyndwr]

Hey man, I said it was going to be a long one, and my being required to read Frankenstein in a day definitely didn't facilitate the matter. By my figuring I'm about 1/3rd of the way done, and I'll try to do some writing tonight. I could post what I have, but I think that would be, as my irritating English teacher would call, "cheap and dirty", and I wouldn't want to do that to my adoring fans

That I can't keep to my schedule is disappointing as I would really like to get along in the story (I'm dying to continue playing the game out, but refuse to do so until I get caught up story-wise as I'd like to get some screenshots for the next few battles soon to come.

[desert]

Why would you be asked to read Frankenstein in a day?

No teacher would assign something like that, no matter how evil.

[the man with no name]

Hey man, I said it was going to be a long one, and my being required to read Frankenstein in a day definitely didn't facilitate the matter. By my figuring I'm about 1/3rd of the way done, and I'll try to do some writing tonight. I could post what I have, but I think that would be, as my irritating English teacher would call, "cheap and dirty", and I wouldn't want to do that to my adoring fans

That I can't keep to my schedule is disappointing as I would really like to get along in the story (I'm dying to continue playing the game out, but refuse to do so until I get caught up story-wise as I'd like to get some screenshots for the next few battles soon to come.

It's ok

[Owen Glyndwr]

She didn't ask me to, the reason I did it was a little thing I like to call procrastination!

It doesn't matter though, only 230 pages, although it did take all day.

Originally, I wrote a page-long rant about my English teacher, but I don't think you want to hear my problems, heck my friends and I spend enough time complaining about her as it is!

So yeah, I'll try to do some more writing today if I can find the time between doing my homework and listening to Obama's pseudo State of the Union Address.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Chapter 2: Crisis in Cruddain, Part 3

Brycham dy'Aran was seated in his chair. Across interlocked fingers he looked out at his opponent. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Brycham's adversary lifted the dice, he threw: "Ha! Seven!" exclaimed the man, "pay up!" he said, arm extended.

"I have nothing left Erbin," Brycham replied, "You’ve won it all already."

Erbin looked down at the table in front of him, the pile of gold coins glistening and reflecting on his dark brown eyes. He looked up at Brycham, "So I have," he said, cackling all the time. Brycham got up to leave, but Erbin quickly shoved some of his winning to the other side of the table. "Here," he said joyfully, "we keep playing."

"I can't," replied Brycham.

"Nonsense," said Erbin, "It's fine, you can pay me back at any time, just say you'll keep playing!"

"Very well," Brycham said wearily, and then he slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

Erbin gestured towards the dice before him, "Your roll," he said eagerly. Brycham grasped the dice, and was about to throw, when the door behind him opened. Brycham turned to see who had entered; he noticed suddenly that everything going on in the building had ceased utterly, all looked towards the man entering the tavern.

Brycham figured that it must have been raining, for the man looked drenched to the bone. He wore a long cloak, and a hood which covered his face. The man entered the room and removed his hood to reveal the face of a young man, probably no older than 19, with short blonde hair and a clean shaven face.

"Caratadoc!" Brycham and Erbin exclaimed, surprised to see their good friend from the Druidic College. They gestured him over. The crowd quickly returned to what they were doing, and Caratadoc weaved his way through the crowd, leaving a trail of water behind him. Although he tripped a few times on his way, he finally managed to stumble his way to the table Erbin and Brycham were seated at.

"Hey, I have incredible news." Caratadoc said.

"What is it?" Asked Erbin.

"Well let’s see here," continued Caratadoc, "Oh yes, the Carthaginians are continuing to attack the Romans, they took the city of Rhegion just last month! Also the coastal port of Massilia has rebelled against the Romans, they're declaring their allegiance to the Greek alliance, oh, and no doubt you have heard that the Ptolemies have launched another invasion into Anatolia, no doubt the Seleukids will be expelled post haste."

Caratadoc was about to continue when Erbin interjected: "Caratadoc, this is all fine, but surely you didn't come all the way down here just to tell us about Roman pigs and Ptolemaic pansies!"

"I don't know," replied Brycham, "the Romans aren't all bad, politics over there have always fascinated me. Nevertheless, continue Caratadoc, what other news is there?"

Caratadoc snapped out of the trance he had fallen into while the others were talking, "Where was I?" He inquired, "Oh yes! I remember now, the news I had. The High King is coming here"

"What?" exclaimed Erbin, "My father...here?" He shouted.

Suddenly everyone in the tavern stopped what they were doing. They gathered around Caratadoc, eager to gain some more information on the subject. Finally Brycham broke the silence: "Caratadoc, why don't you tell us the whole story. Where did you get this information from? When will he arrive, and for what reason is he coming? Well, talk man, don't stand there with mouth agape like that!"

Caratadoc quickly shut his mouth. "Well, it all started this morning. I left from the college at the crack of dawn. Today I was going to travel down to the southern shore, I wanted to ask the people down there questions about how they felt about the Romans, and their forms of government, as compared to various other Eastern kingdoms. You know, few of them actually knew that the Romans operate in a republic? That they don't elect their leaders for life, but only-"

"Shut up and get to the point man! No one cares about your silly research. No one cares about the Romans, no one cares about anything! Just tell us what we want to hear!"

Brycham raised his hand to silence his friend. "Calm down Erbin," he said. "Now, Caratadoc, we asked you to talk, this isn't talking, so please, talk, and try not to get distracted."

Caratadoc continued, "Well anyways, I was down on the ferry docks talking to a fisherman when I overheard a conversation where someone mentioned High King Massorias being in the area. I immediately broke off my questioning and rushed over to the man. After some prodding, he told me that Massorias was accompanying the great general Caratadoc Yr Mar to his home here at Ynys Mon. He said that they had left Camlulosadae about a month ago, and that they were now waiting for a ferry across the Straits of Mon. Of course by that time it was late in the day, and the ferries were closed, which meant that he would have to wait until tomorrow to continue his journey. Upon hearing this information, I quickly made my way back to Ynys Mon, the rain did not facilitate my journey, and upon entering the town, I made a beeline for the tavern, figuring that Erbin would be here, and I thought that, being the youngest son of Massorias, he'd want to be the first who'd to know.

Erbin grinned as Caratadoc finished his story, pleased that the man was so loyal to him. Finally Brycham continued the conversation: "So, if he's down at the ferry as you say, then he'll be here tomorrow in the late morning." The group gathered around Caratadoc began now to talk to each other in hushed voices, some made their way out of the tavern, eager to tell their wives and friends of the good news.

"This is excellent!" exclaimed Erbin, "This could be even better than last summer, now that my idiot brothers won't be around to steal the show from me," said the arrogant man of 19, referencing his visit to Camlulosadae the previous summer. He continued, "Yes, with this trip, I'll be able to show him just how much I've grown and learned, I'll be able to show him that I am strong enough to lead a city, even a nation, maybe he'll be so pleased that he'll name me his successor once that vain uncle of mine kicks the bucket. The other two brushed this statement off; these statements from Erbin were oft said, but never meant. While he was jealous of the success of his brothers, he never meant them any ill-will.

After listening to the machinations of his close friend for a few minutes, Brycham turned to Caratadoc: "Is the King informed of this information."

"Well, he replied, no, I don't suppose he is."

"Then we must get to the Palace quickly and let him know. The arrival of a high king is an important event; preparations must be made, and made with extreme hast if all is to be ready by tomorrow."

***

15 minutes later the men had left the tavern and were approaching the palace of Ynys Mon. As they entered the great building, they could tell that something was going on; servants were hurriedly running hither and thither through the main hall. Several of the seniors were shouting rapid orders, pointing at various objects, and ordering them to be moved, only to have them immediately returned to their original locations. In the middle of all this sat the King of Cambriae, Esrellyn. It still amazed Brycham that after 6 years of living and studying on the island, he was still surprised Esrellyn's actions. To say that the man was affable would be a gross understatement. For twenty years the man had ruled with such an air of approachability that he quickly became extremely popular with the people, in fact he was one of the most beloved men of the Cambrians. Brycham watched the man for a few minutes; the way he lounged in his throne, crown lying loosely on his peppered locks. A musician playing a lyre, an import from Greece beside as the King laughed with gaiety with his close friends and advisors. Finally the King noticed the three visitors, and, recognized them, promptly gesturing them closer.

"Brycham my friend!", Esrellyn yelled while trying to stifle a laugh, "Ednyfed here just told me the funniest story. Here, Ednyfed, tell Brycham. Trust me, you'll laugh so hard!"

Ednyfed was just about to relate his story when Brycham cut him off. "Sire, we have something important to tell you."

"But of course!" Esrellyn replied, "But you must hear this story first!"

"No sire, this is really important, you must listen to us."

Esrellyn composed himself, he breathed a long sigh before finally, speaking to Brycham: "Very well, what is it."

"Sire, we have just received news that the High King and Caratadoc yr Mar are on their way here, and they'll arrive tomorrow morning!"

A hush settled over the hall. Finally, the silence was broken by the loud, distinctive, boisterous laughter of King Esrellyn. The servants' and advisors' eyes shifted back and forth; everyone was looking to see what the others were doing. Finally, reluctantly, the whole hall erupted in laughter. After several minutes, Esrellyn finally spoke:

"Boy...boy, this is your news? This is what's so important to you, this...information?"

"But my lord!" Brycham complained, "This is extremely important; there are things to be done, food to be prepared, feasts to be arranged, guests to be invited, if we act now, we might get everything ready, but we must move quickly!"

But all Brycham's suggestions did was increase the level of Esrellyn’s laughter, the sharps sounds bouncing off the walls of the palace felt like daggers being thrust into his body.

"I see you look confused," said Esrellyn after the laughter finally died down, "And it only makes it funnier! You see son, I received notification about this journey weeks ago! Everything has already been arranged. However, it is a good thing that you told me that they'll be here tomorrow, I'll notify the cooks immediately."

Suddenly Esrellyn called an old-looking man over. He gave some orders to the man, and then the man stalked off. Then Esrellyn turned back to the three: "Now that that's over and done with, let's get back to business, shall we? Now, when Massorias comes, we will, of course, throw a feast in his honor. Naturally, Erbin, being the son of Massorias, you shall be seated at my right, in the place of honor."

Erbin grinned; he was always happy when people showed their respect to his position in the family line.

Then Esrellyn turned to Brycham: "Now m'boy, to deal with your position in the feast."

Brycham blinked, surprised by Esrellyn's statement, "Me? But, I'm a nobody. A poor man from a poor family, only tied to the royal line by my mother. What could you possibly do with me? I'd probably be better off at home."

Esrellyn smiled, a fatherly twinkle in his eye, "Aye, that is so," He said tenderly, "But do not forget that you are also the senior scholar at the college. You are wiser at age 22 than many men I know who are twice your age. Your dedication is unparalled, and you are one of the most respected men of the college, even among the Drwdae themselves."

Brycham's cheeks reddened; he wasn't accustomed to compliments. "No," Esrellyn continued, "to have you sitting at your home when the most powerful man in all Northern Europe is present would be a waste of an opportunity. I see great potential in your future. Quite the contrary, I want you sitting on my left, both as a representative to the College and as my second in command. Esrellyn smiled pleasantly, Erbin was stunned, mouth agape, eyes wide. Caratadoc was disinterested, he instead sat down and produced one of the numerous scrolls that he always carried on him. "So, what do you say, m'boy? Will you take me up on my offer?"

Brycham was still stunned from Esrellyn's offer, but once he had processed all that Esrellyn was giving him he responded with a succinct "yes".

Esrellyn smiled again, "Excellent, just excellent. Now, we must move quickly. A high king will be here in less than a day and I doubt that either of you know very well how to receive honored guests. Why don't the two of you come with me and I'll show the two of you what is expected of you when our honored guests arrive. I'd extend the offer to you as well," he said, turning to Caratadoc, "But you appear clearly more enthralled by whatever it is you're reading there. I'll leave you to your own devices."

Caratadoc responded with an obligatory "Mmm" before continuing with his scroll; the other three walked off.

***

The three remained in the palace for a long time, and it was long after sunset before they left the palace, all three returning home to get some rest before the momentous day to come. However Brycham noticed that something was amiss. The hour of the day was late, and yet, the people of the town were still moving about; people were running throughout the town gathering things and then quickly returning from whence they came. Finally Brycham stopped in the road," Sir, kindly tell me why it is you are awake at such a late hour?"

The man replied in a hurried tone, "Why didn't you hear? King Massorias and Caratadoc are coming here tomorrow! There is so much to be done; there's no time to sleep. Heck, there's not even time to be talking to you, I must leave." And with that the man rushed off into the darkness.

Brycham was confused. "Caratadoc," he asked, "I am aware that Massorias is the high king, but Camulosadae is awfully far away from here. Why would the common people of this town be working so hard to prepare celebrations for men that they hardly see, let alone know?"

"Well that's silly," Caratadoc responded, "The reason Caratadoc yr Mar is respected is obvious; he is one of the most revered men in the kingdom; his patriotism to Casseia is as well known and respected as his glory in battle is honored. The fact that he comes from this very town propels him into an exalted state of reverence in this area. I suppose that Massorias is beloved by the people of Ynys Mon because of what he did for the Druidic College. When the town was captured 50 years ago, the King of Casseia decided to close the college due to the anti-Casseian sentiment it spawned. Massorias, ever the patron of education, reopened the College upon his coronation." Caratadoc finished his explanation as the three approached the door of Brycham's house. It was modest, not something Brycham could brag about, but it provided shelter and warmth, and to Brycham, that was all that really mattered. Brycham bid his friends a farewell, and entered the house through the front door.

It was dark inside; the hearth fire had dyed out, only the red glow of the embers remained. Brycham figured that his wife, Aur, must have already gone to sleep. Not wanting to wake her, Brycham crept silently to the bed they shared. He arrived at his destination, and promptly slipped into bed. "Honey, it's late, what have you been up to?" His wife was awake.

"Doubtless you heard that Massorias and Caratadoc yr Mar are going to be here tomorrow," Brycham responded finally after several moments of thought. Aur gave a grunt in affirmation, so Brycham continued to relate to her everything that had happened from the moment that he and his friends had entered the palace up to the present, his wife all the while remaining silent. After several minutes, Brycham wrapped up his story: "So then I arrived back here. The only thing I cannot understand is why Massorias, a man now into his 6th decade of life would trouble himself with coming all the way out into the northern extents of Cambriae, and furthermore, why would Esrellyn single me out among all the Drwdae and Druidic students to sit at his left, it just doesn't make sense."

A silence fell over the room for several minutes. Finally Aur gave her analysis of the situation: "It seems to be," she said, stifling a yawn, "that, as you said, the man is old, which means that his reason for coming here must be truly important. I do not think that the return of Caratadoc yr Mar is momentous enough to fit that description, especially considering that Caratadoc had visited Camulosadae before traveling here. Moreover, there are no festivals occurring here in the near future, so that is ruled out. That leaves an emergency, either a local one or a foreign one. Now, I do not believe that Ynys Mon is in any sort of danger; it's in the heart of the empire, there are no wars going on presently, and Esrellyn's extreme popularity among the Cambrians rules out rebellion. So that leaves an exterior danger. Now, the fact that Esrellyn already had information about Massorias's arrival also adds to the apparent emergency of Massorias's visit; it is well known that Massorias likes to travel his Kingdom unannounced, and I believe that the fact that he asked you to be a representative to the Druidic College suggests that the College is involved in this crisis. The only reason Massorias would come to the Druidic College would be to pick someone to either command an army or to be crowned a king of a province, and the fact that Esrellyn chose you as the representative means most likely that Esrellyn has nominated you as the best candidate for whatever Massorias needs. The only thing I'm confused about is what the actual post is. As I have stated, there are no wars going on at present, so that rules out military commander. However, no Kings have died recently, and Germania and Hibernia are currently in self-government which would also rule out coronation. Whatever it may be, this is a good thing for us, and we’re finally going to get out of here."

After hearing this, Brycham could not sleep. To think, he might be appointed to something by Massorias impressed him, and the fact that Esrellyn thought he, Brycham, to be the best candidate astounded him. However, Brycham was a little saddened by what was to come; he had come to enjoy Ynys Mon's nuances, his friends and his home; the life he had come to love over the course of the last 6 years, and, although he was honored by the offer that may come from Massorias, he was unsure if he would be able to part with this land when the time came. So, his mind conflicted by these thoughts, Brycham lay awake for a time. Until he finally found a way to banish the thoughts from his mind before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

***

Morning came, and with it the massive crowds in anticipation of the arrival of the guests. The sun had barely risen, and yet the man thoroughfares of the city were packed with people. Esrellyn was forced to dispatch guards to keep the crowds at bay, but this did not stop the clamor of the morning. Men stood by the side of the road, children on their shoulders, hoping to catch just one glimpse of the heroes. Meanwhile, wives brought fresh bread for the rest of the family to eat while they waited. Naturally there were some disagreements among the people. The wealthier families dispatched slaves or servants to hold a spot for them so the family could come at their own leisure, naturally this caused dissent among the less fortunate families, and some squabbles broke out, but they were isolated cases and were quickly ended by the guards. Meanwhile, some families ascended to the roofs of their houses to get a better view. At the center of the town, meanwhile, sat Esrellyn looking upon the city, his city. To his right were two empty chairs, one for Massorias, and one for Caratadoc yr Mar. To the right of those chairs sat Erbin. To the left of Esrellyn sat Brycham and his wife Aur beside him. Esrellyn looked to the boy as he shifted uneasily in his seat. Esrellyn was about to say something when a roar erupted down towards the southern gates. "So it begins," Esrellyn muttered to himself.

The crowd continued to cheer at the gate of the town as the royal procession began. First through the gate came two chariots manned each by a rider and a soldier. Both men in each chariot wore a suit of armor, its scales glimmering in the sun, now nearly at it's apex in the sky. The soldiers in the chariots held great shields adorned with beautiful patterns in blue and green paint. In their hands they held great spears, and at their hips, greatly decorated scabbards containing long swords. The two chariots, pulled by two majestic horses paraded down the main street towards the palace. The men in the chariots cleared the street and kept the citizens at bay as the next portion of the procession entered.

After the chariots came a division of infantry. They were organized into 5 lines each of four columns. The men walked in excellent order. They, like the chariot soldiers had great shields and their swords were drawn, being held before them. Then approached the heart of the procession. First came three more chariots, each identical to the first two. Following them was the Vallorix, Caratadoc's infamous bodyguard. They were horrific, and everyone knew it. They wore chain mail, with an iron helmet with cheek guards hanging down their face. With great shields, a long sword, and a face that told volumes of the horrors they had endured in the forests of Germania, they proceeded down the street.

Although many would have thought it impossible, the crowds cheering increased in intensity as the next group entered the gates. It was Caratadoc and Massorias. Each rode a chariot. Massorias wore an expensive robe, a blue cape hanging behind him. He stood tall as he smiled and waved to his subjects. Beside him rode Caratadoc, fully armored with chain mail and his mighty sword at his side. With one arm, he saluted the people of his home, and with the other, he held a rope with dragged behind him 5 men. They were the once proud princes of the tribes of Germania. They were taken completely naked, arms bound, their necks attached to the ropes that Caratadoc held. The appearance of the Germans drove the citizens into fervor. They jeered and insulted the men. Some even threw things at the downtrodden princes. And yet, despite the great shame doubtless weighing the five down, they stood tall and proud. Their faces emotionless, it would take more than a shameful procession to break these men's will. Behind the princes were yet more Vallorix, and after them came the regulars, brought into the army, and now finally returning to their homes. Some men spotted their families and broke rank to embrace them; some hadn't been home in over ten years. The regulars - The Lugoae, Sotaroas, and Kluddabro dispersed, melding with the citizens now following the procession up to the palace. The procession arrived at the palace and Caratadoc and Massorias dismounted from their chariots. The two men, flanked by the Vallorix entered the hall.

Brycham was nervous, his palms were sweating as he wriggled uneasily in his seat. He looked over to Esrellyn and Erbin, they sat easily in their chairs, "How could they be so relaxed?" Brycham thought to himself. Finally the guests of honor entered the palace. Esrellyn, Erbin, and Brycham all rose from their chairs and kneeled before their king, the retinue followed suit. "My Lord we humbly place ourselves in your service," they said in unison, exactly as Esrellyn had instructed them to. Massorias strode up to Esrellyn and lifted him to his feet. Massorias stared into the king's face. Finally he smiled and embraced the man. "My friend," he said, "it's been too long."

"Indeed it has." Massorias then moved on to his son, and did the same. Caratadoc meanwhile shook hands with Esrellyn, and was beginning to talk to him about Ynys Mon. Finally Massorias came to Brycham.

After raising the Brycham up, they shook hands, "You must be Brycham, I've heard much about you." Brycham nodded and thanked the High King. Finally, after the pleasantries had passed, the group returned to their seats, with Massorias and Caratadoc yr Mar seated in the middle, the seats of honor. The citizens entered the hall as the Vallorix formed a defensive perimeter around the dais where the High King sat. After everyone settled down, Massorias rose to address the crowd:

"Welcome friends all, Casseians and Cambrians, Silurae and Midlanders all, I have come to speak, and so you have all come to listen, so let's settle down for I have much to say. Doubtless, many of you remember, or your fathers remember the hard times that fell upon us in years pass. I remember well the days spent not knowing if our money would hold, or if I would even be alive to greet the next day. I was there with you when the coffers were empty and my family was forced to borrow from you. I was there when brigands roamed the country with a free hand, no one was there to stop them. I was there when the news arrived that pirates wiped out our fleet in the North Sea. And finally, I was there when the Sweboz attacked New Casseia, burning the land and sending many Casseians to an early grave." The crowd stirred and buzzed; the memories of the dark age of Casseia were still embedded in their minds. Massorias continued, "Yes, I remember those times well. However I am now glad to tell you that a new age has arrived, the darkness that once encompassed our land has passed with the dawn. Our economy has recovered, our debts have been repaid. The brigands have been quelled, and pirates eradicated. And it is with my greatest pleasure that I tell you that the war with the Sweboz has officially ended, and we are the victors!" The crowd roared with applause, and Massorias gave them a few moments, before lifting a hand to silence them. "But this is not for me to tell you, instead that task is for another. Subjects, it is with happiness that I can tell you that after 30 long years Caratadoc yr Mar, your Caratadoc has finally returned home!" The crowd applauded again as Massorias ceded the floor to the great general.

"When the Sweboz attacked our colonies, killed our people, I made a vow to myself, and I made a vow to you. I vowed that the Sweboz would rue the day that they betrayed us, I vowed to make their lives a living hell. Now, after 10 long years, I have accomplished that goal. I have gone to their homes, I have killed their women and children, and I have destroyed their homes. Now these vulgar savages have been quelled. They have been left in the dark depths of their accursed forests to live forever in fear, the fear that I shall return to end their miserable existence. But first, I have given you the opportunity to gain your retribution." He waved his hand and the German Princes were brought into the hall. "Standing before you are the architects of the destruction of Kimbroz. I have brought them here so that you may take vengeance upon them as you see fit. They will be tied down just outside here for five days, and you will be able to do with them as you see fit, although you may not kill them, for after five days I will send them running home to tell all of their accursed people why you do not betray the Casse!" The crowd roared again, and the princes were led out. As they walked away one man fell upon one of the princes, and began to beat him harshly. Soon other men began to descend on the princes. The guards moved to break up the fight when Caratadoc stopped him. "No," he said, "let them have their vengeance for just a while longer." Brycham was horrified, he felt his face become warm as a tear ran down his face. He could no longer stand it, he looked away. After a few minutes Caratadoc had the guards break up the frenzy. The Princes looked badly mauled, all were bleeding profusely, one man had a black eye, and another appeared to have hurt his ankle and would not rise. In response a Guard began to beat him until finally he passed out and the guards had to carry him out, along with the others, to their place of imprisonment.

The crowd cheered as the Princes were led out. Finally they rushed onto the dais. They lifted the chairs of Massorias and Caratadoc and began to parade them through the streets. Erbin got up to follow them, as did Esrellyn, but Brycham stayed behind. He simply could not understand how people could be predisposed to hate a man he had never before met. He remained in his seat and, once everyone had left the hall, he wept. He wept for the Sweboz, he wept for the Princes, once proud and happy, now downtrodden and humiliated. He wept for the wives they left behind, now left alone to raise their children. But most of all, he wept for the Sweboz people, once a proud race, but now beaten and humiliated in public by their conquerors. By his side, his wife attempted to comfort him, but it was to no avail; this pain was long in coming, and would take long to abate.

After some time, Brycham finally composed himself and returned to join in the festivities. He did have a good time, although did make note to avoid the area where the Princes were tied down. He noticed that for a time Esrellyn and Massorias disappeared into the palace for a time, but he was enjoying himself far too much to let that fact disturb him. The festivities drew on far into the afternoon and soon the crowd began to disperse, people were returning home to prepare for the evening meal. Brycham and his wife were about to leave to do the same when Massorias called him over and asked him to speak in private.

Brycham told his wife to go on without him, and then went with Massorias into a secluded alley. Brycham had been dreading this moment, for Massorias's request of a private audience could only mean one thing; his wife was correct in her assumptions. Just then Massorias began to speak:

"I'm not one to beat around the bush , so I'll be brief. I did not come here solely to see Caratadoc home, my reasons for coming here were far more urgent. A couple weeks ago there was a riot in the Hibernian town of Emain-Macha. Disaffected nobles attacked and wiped out the Druidic Complex in the town, declaring the province and all of Hibernia independent of Casseia. Things there are bad, and it is obvious to me now that the Druids are not, nor were they ever capable of ruling the province. Emain-Macha needs a king, and for that reason I came here, to find someone who could quell the rebellion and restore order to the province as King.

However that mission would not be an easy one for anyone. The Hibernians are fiercely independent, and it will take more than a firm hand and a large army to quell the unrest. The prospective king would have to be understanding while being practical, firm while being compassionate. The King would have to be able to win the hearts and minds of the Hibernian people. For this reason, I wrote ahead to my old friend Esrellyn to help me find a suitable ruler. Based off of Esrellyn's council and my own personal observations, I have decided that you are that person."

"What did you observe in me? You've hardly been here, and I've hardly seen any of you."

"Don't think I didn't notice you in the hall. You were disgusted by the actions of your own people towards the Sweboz. That shows me that you are compassionate and understanding of outsiders, more than enough for me to make my decisions, and Esrellyn's council only confirmed by own opinions. But more importantly, I need to know of your answer. Will you go to Hibernia? Will you be a King?"

Brycham bit his lip, this was exactly what he was hoping Massorias wouldn't ask of him. "I don't know," he responded finally. "This is my home, my people. I don't know if I could bear to leave this place, to leave my friends for an unfamiliar and unforgiving place."

Massorias looked into the eyes of Brycham, it made Brycham feel extremely uncomfortable. "I can see you need more time to decide," He responded, "I'll give you some time to think about what I have asked you. If you change your mind, come to me before the feast, there you will have to make your final decision."

Brycham thanked the King for his generous offer and started off towards home. As he walked, he worked the proposal over in his mind, and yet he still could not come to a firm decision. As he approached the door to his house, he decided to consult with his wife, perhaps she could weigh in and give him the answer he needed. As Brycham entered through the door of his house, he found his wife standing before him. Her deep blue eyes gazing at him, her brown hair held in a bun behind her. She looked beautiful to him, he was happy to be married to one such as her.

"Well?" She said, as he came into the house. "What did Massorias want?"

"He wants me to be king of Emain-Macha"

"A ha! I knew it, I assume you accepted of course." Brycham frowned, his eyes looked towards the floor, "You did accept his offer, right?" Brycham shook his head. He told her about what he said, why he did not want to accept.

When Brycham had finally finished his argument, a silence settled upon the house. Aur walked towards her husband and slapped his face. "Brycham, you're a fool," she said, "This is an incredible offer, King? You turned down being a King? Why would you do this?"

Brycham nodded, "Yes, it is a great honor, but what of my life, my friends?"

"What? That arrogant fool Erbin? He doesn't care for you, and I'm sure Caratadoc cares for you about as much as he cares for the scrolls he carries with him every day. But I'm someone who loves you, and I'll be there by your side when you travel to Hibernia. Besides, you need to get out of this place, to long have you been here. What's more, Hibernia will be a good place to settle down and start a family."

"But what if I cannot do what Massorias asks of me? What if I fail?"

"My husband, you will not fail. You are wise and compassionate. You are very easy to like, and even the Hibernians will take to you quickly. I do not think that Massorias would have asked you if he thought you incapable."

"Very well," Brycham responded, "You are correct, as always. Tonight at the feast I will tell Massorias that I have accepted his offer, I will go to Emain-Macha."

***

An hour later much of the crowd reconvened at the main hall of the palace for a feast. Brycham entered the hall and quickly identified Massorias. He moved quickly over to the old man and stood before him.

"Well?" He asked, "Have you come to a decision?"

"Yes sir," I accept, I will go to Emain-Macha and quell the rebellion there."

Massorias's face brightened. "Excellent," he replied, "I'll announce it at the feast tonight." The two of them walked over to the table and the feast began.

It was an incredible night. There were poets both famous and new, most poems were praising the deeds of Caratadoc, although some others that were praising Esrellyn. In addition there were other forms of entertainment; there were some musicians, and some dancers. Once the last performance ended, and the last morsel chewed and swallowed, Massorias once again rose to address the crowd.

"Friends, this has been a great day. Indeed it will be a day to be remembered for years to come. I would like right now to thank Esrellyn for his hospitality, and now I have some important news for all of you. The Hibernians have been a part of our mighty kingdom for many years now, and yet they still are not truly a part of our Kingdom. I intend to rectify this, tonight I will guarantee you that 'ere this year is over there shall be a Casseian sitting on the throne of Emain-Macha. I have made my decision of who that man is to be and he is sitting with us right now. His name is Brycham dy'Aran, no doubt some of you have heard of him. I have asked him to be a Hibernian King and he has accepted, he shall do us all honor."

Everyone in the crowd cheered, all but one. Erbin was mad, soon his anger burst. "Father, why would you choose this lowlife?" He shouted.

The crowd quieted quickly. Massorias turned and glared at his son. "Be quiet son, it is not your place to object."

"It is my place. This man is a nobody. He is hardly even related to us. He is poor, and his family is not highly esteemed. Do you not think, father, that I would be more fit for the role of King. I implore you, retract your offer, allow me to be king of Emain-Macha, I know I will not fail you."

Massorias's brows furrowed, his face reddened in anger. "And what business have you to object?" He roared in a booming voice that would scare the very gods, "I am a king, and what are you? Nothing but an arrogant rat. You have shamed me, and you have shamed your family. Be gone! And do not show your face before me until you have learned some humility."

Erbin's cheeks reddened too, but for a different reason. He lowered his head and quickly slipped out of the hall. Now Massorias's face eased. He smiled, "I would like to ask all of you to put what you just heard out of your minds. This is not a time for anger, this is a time for joy, and a place for praise. I propose a toast. To the new King of Emain-Macha, and the New King of Hibernia."

The crowd cheered. Brycham rose, "Thank you," he said quietly, "I know I will not let you down my lord."

"You had better not," Massorias replied. The crowd laughed. "Now, it is late, and with that last piece of business, I believe it is time we all got some sleep." Massorias got up to leave, and the rest at the table followed behind. Some patted Brycham on the back as they left, congratulating him for his good fortune. Finally Brycham and his wife rose. They bid Massorias a good night, and walked off together towards their house.

The autumn sun shone down on the Cambrian docks as Brycham and Aur waited for the captain to give them the go ahead to board the ship bound for Hibernia. Beside them stood Massorias, Esrellyn, Caratadoc yr Mar, and Caratadoc. It had been 5 days since Brycham had accepted Massorias's offer. As the group waited, Brycham began to reflect on the past few days. Upon hearing of the news that happened at the feast, the crowd erupted in joy, many more celebrations followed similar the previous ones, only now. It was he who was paraded through the streets, it was he who had to give speeches. He had to admit that, while at first unsettling, he found himself enjoying being the object of joy. Although he still was saddened by having to leave his home, Brycham now began to look forward to his new life. Brycham quickly snapped out of his reflections as the captain of the ship walked up to the group.

"We'll be ready to cast off in about five more minutes, so I suggest that you say your goodbyes now." Brycham thanked the man and then turned to say his goodbyes.

First he turned to Caratadoc, who was naturally engrossed once again in a scroll. "Goodbye old friend," Brycham said. Caratadoc didn't look up. Next he went to shake hands with Caratadoc yr Mar.

"Trust no one, and do not become attached to anyone you are capable of losing." Caratadoc yr Mar said, and slipped him a dagger as they shook hands. Brycham thanked the old man for the advice and moved on to Esrellyn.

"Esrellyn," Brycham started, "You have been like a father to me all these years. I don't know how I could possibly thank you."

"Just don't fail m'boy. That will suffice for me." Esrellyn smiled and the two embraced for a few moments before Brycham moved to talk finally to Massorias. However he was interrupted by a yell coming from the entrance to the docks. Brycham looked up to see a man running towards the group. It was Erbin.

"Wait! Brycham, don't leave yet!" He closed in on Brycham and stopped before him. "Brycham, I'm sorry I acted out before, it really wasn't my place to object, and you really were the best candidate. I let my jealousy and arrogance get the better of me, and for that, I am deeply sorry, I guess I still have a lot of growing up to do. I hope you will accept my most humble apology.

Brycham smiled, and embraced his long-time friend. "I could never be angry at you," he responded, "I just hope you might come to visit once I have things under control in Hibernia.

"I will," Erbin vowed. Brycham smiled and the looked up. He saw Massorias gesturing him over. Brycham moved towards Massorias and the two of them walked away from the rest of the group.

"There is one last piece of advice which I must give you before you leave. As I said before, the Hibernians are a very resilient people, and no amount of violence will subdue them. This is very important. Until you have gained the people's trust, you must never resort to violence as the aggressor. If you do this they will harden their hearts towards you, and you will never be successful. Instead, seek ways to earn their respect. You will most likely be the first Casseian they will have seen in generations, and they will be distrustful of you. Do not be discouraged. This won't be easy work, but I wouldn't have chosen you if it was going to be. Do you understand what I just told you?" Brycham nodded. "Then go with my blessing." The two shook hands, and Brycham turned around to find the Captain standing before him.

"We're all set to go, sir."

"Very well," Brycham said, "Well, guys, I guess this is goodbye." The group waved goodbye as Brycham took his wife's hand in his and the two boarded the boat. Before them, lay the dangerous Hibernian Sea, and before that, the far more dangerous Hibernian people which Brycham was to reign over.

"This won't be easy work, but I wouldn't have chosen you if it was going to be" Brycham smiled, "Indeed it will not be easy," he thought to himself, "But the King has put his utter trust in me, and with it, the trust of all Casseians, I will not, nay, I must not fail him."

The couple, along with his retinue boarded the boats, and the agile sailors released the mooring lines, unfurled the sails, and cast off towards the rocky shores of Hibernia.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Well, I told you it'd be a doozy, didn't I?

According to Microsoft Word, this section alone was 15 pages. Whatever the case, I hope you enjoy, it was very exhausting to write. Also, I apologize for any typos you might find; I was more concerned with getting it out than of proof reading it.

I hope to outline and write the next and final section of this chapter done tomorrow. With that done, I'll be done with this and finally get the ball rolling with this story.

[the man with no name]

Great chapter.

[Owen Glyndwr]

I'm glad you liked it. Unfortunately I think whipping out another right away is a no go. Unfortunately I spent so much time working on this chapter I hadn't really worked on the next one. I know what's going to happen, but not the specifics, and now that I'm starting to wrap my mind around this next section, I'm thinking it might be a fairly long one as well. I'll probably be working on it all week as well, I'll at least try to get an outline done by tonight.

Oh, and for anyone who follows my grammar guide, I'll try to get another update for that one done by the end of this week as well.

[the man with no name]

Owen i noticed that you've been here for just over two years, and i have only been here 1 1/2 months and i almost have as many posts as you do.

[Owen Glyndwr]

That's mainly because I've really been off and on on this site, I was never really very active on the site until very recently.

[the man with no name]

That's mainly because I've really been off and on on this site, I was never really very active on the site until very recently.

Oh ok. Now i'm ahead of you ha ha ha ha ha. Jk.

[Owen Glyndwr]

Hey man, quality over quantity :P

[the man with no name]

Hey man, quality over quantity :P

Yeah i guess.