Cry "Havoc!" - SS6.2 Hotseat Story Thread

[The Lemongate]

This thread is for the players in the Stainless Steel – Dogs of War game to post creative writing related to the game.

This can take the form of full or partial turn write-ups, battle reports, stories or other creative writing forms inspired by the game, so long as the posts are consistent with and related to events in the game.

PLEASE REFRAIN FROM POSTING OOC IN THIS THREAD.

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

William surveyed the city of London, his new capitol... his new home. The Normans were a tough people, a people who took what they needed by force. And what William needed was the British Isles united under his new banner, the banner of the Kingdom of England. The Saxons were on the run, but even after the last of the Saxons were finished, he still had a long series of trials before him. The Scottish were a proud people, one who would not easily fall to his armies, a kingdom whose people were at least as tough as Williams own.... and to the west the Irish.... a people who William did not understand, did not WISH to understand. But a people that were strong and warlike none the less. William was strong man, but at the thought of all this he almost collapsed.... almost, but one did not become the king if they were not ready for the burdens.

He steeled himself, and looked to the north, to where he knew his son Rufus camped, Where he waited to march on the Saxons at York. He would crush them this William did not doubt. Then to the south, where Robert was no doubt readying the remaining Normans to cross the channel.. With the new treaty with the franks there was no reason to keep a large number of troops there. Thought of the treaty brought a smile to Williams face, he was glad Philip was seeing the sense and reason in his proposal, in the end were they not two men cut of similar stuff?? Two kings doing what’s best for there people? It was best for everyone for the Franks and Normans to stay at peace, William had every intention of holding up his end of the bargain. The thought of that made him think of his friend John, he had sent the man to France as his voice on the council and he had not disappointed him.

Everything was perfect, all was going exactly as William as hoped. When the British Isles were untied, THEN could England look outward, to the lands to the south, to the east, to the west. The Spaniards wished to reconquer Spain from the Muslims, and William doubted they would turn away England's help. William would make his people one of the greatest in the world. No matter how many men he had to kill to make it that way. But... It all hinged on Britain... It all came back to uniting the isles.... William would not fail his people.... It was their time! This was their battleground, and they planned to come out on top! Let the Scots and Irish come, they will all fall before William and his sons!
All of these thoughts comforted William as he stared out over London. Stared at the people as they lived out their lives, oblivious to the greater mechanics of their world.

[The Lemongate]

Rex Francorum

Philippe. It was an odd name for a Frank. Ann of Kiev had given the name to her firstborn son, a tribute to her eastern orthodox lineage which traced itself, through the Roman Emperor Romanus II, back to the great unifier of Greece and Macedon, Philip II, father to Alexander the Great, the man who conquered the world in only ten years. It was a heavy legacy to bear, even for a King, even for a Frank.

The Franks, in centuries past, through their relations with ancient Rome, had come to rule over much of Western Europe. Clovis, Charles Martel, Charlemagne. Those were Frankish names that had carved their mark on history as brightly as any Cesar or Pericles of old. It was the Franks that had first embraced Christianity of all the people that had come from the dark forests of Germania. It was the Franks that had pushed back the Moslem hordes at Poitiers. It was the Franks that had saved the Papacy from the Lombards and Greeks and gifted the Holy Father his large estates in Italy.

Philippus Dei gratia Francorum rex. Philippe, by the grace of God, King of the Franks.

That so powerful a name would come to bear so proud a title could not be a coincidence. History was God’s favourite tool to teach the teeming multitudes that thrived on the face of His world. His work could be seen in the budding of a lilac flower, in the able craft of smiths and weavers and in the flowered verse of playwrights. But most of all, His work flowed through the deeds of the mighty that shone brightly through the ages, a testament to their will and courage, and to divine benevolence that had guided their paths.

Philippe’s achievements would have to be mighty indeed if he wished to honour his heritage.

Philippe. It was a powerful name. A name fit for the King of the Franks.

[phonicsmonkey]

King Laszlo of the Magyar surveyed his tapestry room, searching the tapestries showing the ancient stories for a clue as to how to proceed.

Here was the Legend of the Wondrous Hind, showing the brothers Hunor and Magor being led to their new homeland by the Sea of Azov by the white hind. From Magor sprang the Magyar people, from Hunor their cousins the Huns. The theme of destiny drawing his people onwards was a long standing tradition in Magyar storytelling.

But how to distinguish the hand of destiny from simple greed? His generals urged him to make war on the errant Poles, and spoke of omens and portents foretelling victory, but how would it sit with the Holy Father? The Magyar Kingdom was a younger child in the eyes of the Papacy, and not yet a favourite..

And here to support their claims for war was the legend of the Honfoglalás, the conquest of their current homelands in the Carpathian Basin by Laszlo's ancestor the Grand Prince Arpad. The martial tradition of Arpad cast a long shadow over his dynasty of royal descendents. There he was, embroidered at the head of a wedge of mounted princes, the leaders of the fabled Seven Tribes which migrated West from the Steppes all those centuries ago.

So perhaps it was right, and in his blood, to respond to the Polish aggression with violence of his own, and seize their lands for his people?

But here as if intentionally to confuse him was the Legend of the White Horse, depicting the Magyar tribal leaders sending a gift to the Moravian King in exchange for land on which to settle. A peaceful exchange, a treaty brokered by Arpad in good faith, demonstrating that not all lands must be gained by war.

Laszlo sank back in his chair in deep reflection, pondering what course of action to take.

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

An Anthology of England, By John Kenneth

The English force mustered outside of Nottingham, a mighty force by all accounts. Of course I would not know anything about that would I? For I am still in France about now, as is expected by a diplomat of my King, William the Conqueror. Talking to diplomats from all the other major nations of the world, chatting up Bishops, meeting some Idiotic people, again as is to be expected of a English diplomat. Of course.... ahhhh I appear to be Rambling again, will have to cut this piece out of the finished work.
The English force was mustered outside of Nottingham, The Crown Prince Robert at its head. They made a intimidating force, with a large force of both Spear men and Archers. In only one way were they lacking, and that was Cavalry. I am not sure why in all honesty, and believe me I have tried to find out. It appears that many of our realms finest cavalrymen had returned to Normandy after the first easy victories in England, leaving Britain with nothing but the stragglers of that group. Of course William was able to muster the men back from Normandy, but the Royal Navy was far to busy to ferry the troops to England. But I digress, The army had only a small contingent of cavalry with even they being of the lightest type, with light lances and little armor.

Discounting this small slight Robert had a strong force. And It would have to be, for the Target of this army was clear enough to all of Britain. Scotland remained fiercely independent from Williams will, something he could not allow slip by him. And so The grand Army of England was assembled, and by Grand I mean haphazard and frankly, inadequate. To say it was the best England could put together was a grave slight to England herself! However, it would be enough. That is what we all thought you see, for it HAD to be enough. In a way, we were all counting on Robert. Were all dearly hoping his fathers tactical Genius had worn off on him. (a note to myself, Rewrite this part, I have called the army formidable then go off and call it haphazard and inadequate..... Not the markings of a good writer. However, thinking about it one could say that the force ISS formidable, just not formidable ENOUGH for the task at hand, and so is Inadequate. Blast it, the note is becoming almost as long as the writing itself.)

Scotland had not moved overtly to attack England, but the tension hung heavily at the northern border. Lately a small Scottish Nobleman had been riding up and down the area, seeming to be marking key villages of the English. It was something that did not go unnoticed by the English merchants in the area, and they reported back to the Garrison of Nottingham. The rest of course is simple enough to guess… however, for the slow members among you I will summarize it. (Perhaps a bit too harsh, rewrite) The English assembled a force under Robert from troops not already engaged in the English’s other operations. It met; you guessed it, outside of Nottingham, which appears to have caught us up into the beginning of my literary work. Which does beg the question why I did not simply start with the situation before focusing inwards on that one moment….. Perhaps a rewrite will be in order.

However, a barrier stood between the English and the Scottish, and it was not one made of Steel or Flesh. Ohh no, it was one far more insidious…. It was a barrier of the church, which stood poised to react harshly against any nation who made the first move against another. And it was this which stayed England’s hand. They seek an in with the Pope, a way to stave that harsh punishment. However, at the time England’s Official Diplomat was still…… making his way towards Rome, a task which had taken him a better part of 3 years. A pathetic lump of lard, this man was…. Ahhh, never mind. Suffice to say the English Diplomatic corps was still on the job. How a decent man like me ever came out of such a corrupt group I shall never…. Ahhh here I go again.
However, the hope was that England would be able to march on Scotland just as the diplomat opened contact with the pope, thus making the attack that would follow a surprise. However, if it came to that William would flirt with disaster to take down the Scottish. Of course he hoped it would not come to that.

Well, that was not so hard was it? I am not sure why these fools in the Monasteries get so much credit, I am positive by my death I will have created quite the comprehensive history of England, as it was during my life.

[Merlox]

Alexandria, Caliphate of Al-Quds, 1084

Al-Quddin: Mohammad... Men! The newest shipment has come from the west!

Many of the men rush over to start observing the fine goods, Al-Quddin, General of the Alexandrian defensive army is busy with the European Cloth shipment, picking himself a rather large hat and placing it on his head.

Al-Quddin: Look at this! I've never seen something quite like this... I think I would look pretty good, almost fit in with the European Crews!

All of the men would laugh, and joke.

"General Al-Quddin, I doubt that you would pass as one of them."
"Yeah! I mean, look at you, You just look silly!"
"Hah, I bet 10 florins that the captain of the Merchant Fleet thinks your bad looking!"

By then, about 40 of the men had decided to all go into a bet against the General, With enough time, The General finally laughed.

Al-Quddin: If all of you are about to lose a few month's pay for over this... Fine! If I win, I obtain... 430 florins from you all! and if I lose, I will pay you all 10 florins! Now I will bring the merchant captain from Iraklion here. and I will show you!

The General would walk for a few minutes, until finding the captain. He would try to flag down the captain of the ship.

Al-Quddin: Excuse me! I must have a wo-

He could not finished due to the captain bursted out laughing at the general's outfit.

Al-Quddin: Ehh... Captain... I just need you for a second, please get rid of the Smirk, If you just tell my men that I look good... or just decent, I will pay you 50 florins... That's quite abit of personal change yeah?"

The Captain would agree and go with the general to the men.

Al-Quddin: Men! I have brought a suitable judge for this, He will decide the winner!

The Captain would say that his dress was better. Though, This would be interrupted.

Messenger boy: General Al-Quddin! A special letter from the Caliph himself!!!!

Al-Quddin: Ahh yes... This is my Promotion letter I was telling you all... What a perfect day for me, nothing can go wrong! Just won some money and now that i'm looking at the letter to know that I a-...

Al-Quddin would drop the letter and one of the men would pick it up and read it to every one.

General Al-Quddin of the Defensive army of Alexandria.
"You and your men will be shipped out as soon as you get this letter. Gather your arms, forces, and be set to set sail in the next few days to give aid to the Western Expansion army, or if worst comes to worst, give aid to our Seljuk Allies in the War against the Roman Empire. The Chance that you will ever be back in Alexandria are slim, So bring what ever personal belongings, and go... Your promotion will be decided after you complete the tasks!"

Al-Quddin: Men... Pack up, we set sail as soon as possible!

As Al-Quddin sighed, The Men start to pack, they ready their spears, their swords, and their bows... As only the Promoted generals would be sent to the Arabian Campaign, which was going as a huge success. The western though, Was a slow and with no glory, Filled with barbaric Catholics Traders that fiercely rivaled the Venician trade nation, the Kingdom of Silicia that the rumors spread that they were the source of all pirates, and that all of them had scurvy. or the over egotistical Roman Empire who were known to be imbredded enough that the children looked like beasts not men... none of these were to gain good reputation, and Al-Quddin knew that his promotion will be very long...