Blood Red Hand: The Dukes of Ulster

[frogbeastegg]

Blood Red Hand: The Dukes of Ulster 1066

Content warning as demanded by amphibian censorship
Excessive death warning: more than 1,000 people die in the first 100 pages.
Language warning: Culad tends to be upset when his vassals betray him.
Other language warning: this does contain jokes you may or may not get.
Content warning: this is not a happy happy story, Bad Things happen.
Other content warning: features assorted deaths caused by people accidentally falling on daggers and similar.
Horror warning: the assorted outcomes of the various marriages may give you nightmares.
Character warning: Fionnghualla should not be imitated at home for the sake of the mental welfare of nearby bystanders.
Morality warning: this story has medieval morals, people do things that are not acceptable today.
Other morality warning: people kiss. And stuff. Mush exists.
Health warning: this story may damage your eyes, it is long, very long.
Addiction warning: many users of Red hand have reported a growing need to find out what happens next.
Other addiction warning: that mush appears to be even more addicitve than the rest of the story.
Racial warning: features jokes at the expense of the Normans.
History warning: this story is not exactly accurate, all nitpickers should avoid.
Child warning: unfortunately the editors could find no way to remove this peril; read at your own risk.


Principle Characters
In the court of Uliad.
Culad (the Lusty) of Uliad: duke of Ulster and Our Hero.
Donchad of Uliad: marshal, and all round reckless maniac.
Margaret Atheling: one of the last two members of the Saxon Atheling royal family. An acquired taste.
Nuala O’Fearghails: Wishing for a quiet life, but she needs a better fairy godmother.
Fionnghualla: sometimes spymaster, other times courtier, always a bitch
Eve of Mar: seventeen going on forty
GillaÍsu: an early gambler
DubEssa: in possession of a cute smile
Ayd: steward
Gofraid: chancellor, bald.
Tagd: courtier
Toirrdelbach: courtier
Mathgamain: courtier, eventually steward
Seoán: courtier
Enna: captain of the watch in Culad’s army
Eogan: second in command of Culad’s infantry
Pilib: captain of Culad’s cavalry unit
Tomas: eventually second in command of Culad’s infantry
Dunsleive: married to Fionnghualla, God save him Donchad’s elder brother
Colban: Father Abbot’s not so favourite monk

Enemies of Ulster
Aed O’Neill: count of Tir Eoghain, caught between a rock and a hard place
Connor: marshal to Aed
Sigtryg: count of Tir Connail, rebellious vassal, and debonair villain.
Fionna: spymaster to Sigtryg, the kind of girl your mother warned you about.
Brigida: Sigtryg’s wife, not at all distressed at being snatched from her intended and very happy indeed as countess. Really. This is true.
Éicnechán: eventually marshal to Aed
Roolb: eventually marshal to Sigtryg
Niall: wishing he was Sigtryg, because then he’d get his bride back

Assorted others
Conchbar: Duke of Dublin, so old he may be a fossil
Mael-Isu: bishop of Mide and vassal of Conchbar. Big Bad Bishop.
Imag: Mael-Isu’s mistress
Énrí: Mael-Isu’s son.
Cristina, Derbáil, Brigit and Una: too pretty for their own good
Mor: a redhead, daughter of one of Culad’s knights
The O’Fearghails: a family with ambition and, um more ambition
Sir Guy de Brittany: A hooked fish
Cathaoir: a horseman (with a head)
Agatha: sleeping with the enemy?
Eamonn: bucket brigade
Bécc: also in the bucket brigade
A brunette: trouble
A boy: slippery as an eel
A pedlar: actually a evil, cunning agent™ of Sigtryg’s
Assorted peasants: grubby
A gaggle of lady’s maids to assorted ladies: giggly
A big helping of assorted personal servants, squires etc: being useful in a way that makes them indispensable (they hope)
Assorted soldiers in various armies: dead or getting there
Assorted messengers: usually arriving at just the wrong time…
Assorted menial servants: busy in a lazy kind of way
A handful of wetnurses: left holding the baby(s)
A midwife: formidable



January 1066
In the heart of Ulster, inside a small stone castle two men sat at a table talking strategy over a map of Ireland. “Culad you must marry” insisted Donchad of Uliad, his wild light brown hair; big eyebrows and upturned nose making him look like the court jester, rather than the Duke’s marshal and most trusted arm. Culad turned to his cousin and clapped him on the shoulder, “Since when were you a churchman, Donchad? Talking on about marriage like I actually need to get married, well I’ll say I do not”
“Culad you’re 24 now-“
“Aye – young and fit, so not in need of wife to ruin my health I’m quite happy as I am.”
“Playing with any girl who catches your eye, you mean?”
“Of course” Culad winked at his cousin, “And you can’t say you’re any different Donchad.”
“I can at that – I’m not the duke and I have no pressing need of an heir. Think of Ulster, Culad – you must have an heir.” Culad’s mood soured, “You’ll not come into my war room, in my castle, in my province, in my dukedom and tell me what to do – cousin or no I have an heir-“
“Aye, and you’re besieging him for his disloyalty” flung back Donchad stabbing a finger at the province of Tir Eeghain on the map spread on the table in front of them, “That’s why we’re here, remember? Your problems with your only heir War tearing the Dukedom apart Sigtryg count of Tir Connail, and his ambition setting up claim on his inheritance early, and Aed O’Neill agreeing his claim on your Dukedom You have nothing but Uliad left, no heir, and a levy of just 600 men”
“I know that” snapped back Culad petulantly, “I know all this, we’re here to fight a war and you’re yakking on about a wife while I’m trying to plan strategy” Donchad pressed his point, “Elective succession has been a disaster for Ulster Culad, and we need allies. Get married, have a few sons, change the law, and pass it all on to them.”
“If there’s anything left to pass on.” Culad morosely stared at his lost lands on the map, “That’s far from certain now, and if the pox raddled bishop of Mide persuades his God conscious liege to enter the fray we’re in trouble so deep it would take a miracle to pull us out.”
“I’m seeing to the bishop, don’t you fear.” Donchad pointed to one of the castles in the territory of Mide on the map, “You see that small castle there? That’s where our holy bishop keeps his mistress. Pity for him the girl’s rather keen on one of my agents, and she’ll not be wanting her gold mine of a bishop to go to war on her sweetheart, so she’s applying certain…pressures to Mael-Isu and keeping him at home. Our little bishop is quite besotted with her, in a quiet way that he hopes won’t get back to the Pope.” Culad slapped a hand on the table, his bad mood forgotten in light of this news, “Ah Donchad, now I remember why I put up with your damn whining and let you be my marshal”
“So it’s just us and our dear departed friends, Aed and Sigtryg in this war for now. If we strike quickly we can bring them to heel, and you’ll have a Dukedom to pass on to your son.”
“Ah, not that again” Culad slammed his fist down on the table, “I’ll not hear more of your pestering – as bad as any wife I do swear”
“But a lady generally looks better in a frock than me, and you know it.” Donchad tried a different approach, “You know I’m hearing rumours about you…” Culad’s head snapped up, “What rumours?”
“Well you’re well known for your interest in the ladies, Culad the Lusty…”
“Aye, and I’ll build a church or two to save my soul from hell. What of it?”
“All these years, and many women with their names attached to yours, and yet…no, I’ll not be saying that.”
“Out with it man”
“It grieves me to say it, and I don’t believe that you are incapable no matter how many utter it, but you’ve got no children and you know how people are. Not a single bastard, not even a rumoured bastard - people are wondering if you’re even up to it-”
“What?” Culad stared at his cousin totally aghast, “Truly?”
“It’s why so many have flocked to Sigtryg’s cause, he seems more likely to provide a future for Ulster.”
“That man’s 35, and equally childless And you – you’re of an age to me, and also lacking off-spring.” Donchad carefully placed the second piece of his plan, “Well there’s the rumour of a certain boy out in a fishing village Sigtryg passed through, I’m hearing he looks like a splitting image of Sigtryg. And well, “ Donchad allowed a smile to slip on his face, “I’ve got my beautiful little Nuala.” Culad looked at his cousin, trying to decide if he was bluffing or not, “I’ve not heard of Nuala before, or any other child of yours.”
“She’s got golden hair like ripening corn, a very pretty smile, and looks just like her mother.” Donchad played the third part of his plan, “Now you see why the rumour’s so bad. You could kill two bird with one stone – marry some noble girl, have a few children killing off the rumours and setting up a better inheritance and future for Ulster. People will be loyal to a man with good secure succession, and heaven knows we need no more rebellions. Marry well enough, with a good dowry, and we could even take on the bishop of Mide and his liege lord after settling our traitors nicely.”
“Really? Well…” Culad though a moment before sighing in resignation, “So be it – go get me a bride. Make sure she’s pretty; you know my taste well enough. Young too, good family’s a must or I’ll not gain much prestige and I need to inspire a bit of worship from my peasants right now. Get a good dowry then – enough to settle Ulster back under my control and to expand our borders into Dublin…I like the sounds of ‘Culad, Duke of Ulster and Dublin’ and if I’ve got to do this dynastic thing now I might as well make it worthwhile. Best make sure she’s got a good reputation, for I’ll not have my children’s parentage under suspicion, not since I’m squashing that ugly rumour. Oh, and make sure this bride’s-”
“Alright, I get the picture” Donchad held up his hands as if to physically ward off the flow of requests, “I’ve got one in mind actually. Margaret Atheling from the court of England, she’s very suitable. If you could just affix your seal here…” Donchad produced a parchment making the request for Margaret’s hand in marriage to Culad, and placed it on the table before his lord. Culad skim read it, and let slip an appreciative laugh, “You’ve been planning this all along You’ve forced my hand into agreeing to this You rogue I should make you my spy master as well as my marshal”
“Actually Margaret is quite renowned for her intrigue skills. I thought she might fit the position very well. Multi purpose wife.”
“Damn you” chuckled Culad, stamping his official seal on the document, “Send it off before I change my mind then. Of course you’ll come to my wedding – bring your Nuala too. I’d like to see this daughter of yours.”
“Forgive me cousin, but if she comes it’ll be as my betrothed, rather than my daughter.”
“No More trickery?” Donchad smiled, his face brightening as he thought of his betrothed, “She’s 19, and just as I described earlier. She’s stolen my heart, and I suspect she’ll trample all over it too – I’m here straight from asking her father’s permission. She’s talking about buying new clothes already, and refurnishing my little castle…she’s going to trample all over my poor heart, and I have this foreboding feeling I’m going to enjoy it.”
“Well I’ll be I never thought you’d get stuck down, especially not in your prime like this. Donchad, my dear cousin and friend, I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you’re already talking about being trampled by some girl then you’re gone – you were unbeatable in combat, but I can see you’re too soft for that now. I’ll make you head of my wardrobe, and let someone with a stomach be my marshal”
“You tease me, and you’ll not be losing my sword. I’m the fierce warrior I ever was, and you’ll be letting someone else mess about with fashion, not I.”
“I’ll just be hoping that they don’t suborn your Nuala and send her into battle against us, or you’ll stand in the field of battle mooning like a love struck fool while we all get cut down”

Aed O’Neill, count of Tir Eoghain was supervising the drilling of his levy when the messenger arrived. Bowing low the man offered Aed a letter, “From Lord Sygtrig and of the utmost urgency.”. Aed took the letter and moved a few steps away to read it in private. When he had finished reading the note Aed ripped it up into small pieces and stuffed what was left into his belt pouch. “Is there an answer Lordship?” inquired the messenger nervously. Aed nodded, “Tell Sigtryg that it will be done, and to be sure that he’ll back me up when the time comes.” The messenger hurried off, and Aed waved over his second in command, “Connor, come here man. How many men have we got total here?”
“240 men exactly Lordship, that’s all the warriors in the province.”
“I want some peasants Connor.”
“Peasants’ll be no good in fighting Lordship, begging your pardon but it’s true.”
“Peasants can fill ranks, with a bit of drilling they might even march in a straight line. I want 100 peasants drafted and trained secretly, swap them with good men from our levy. Add another 400 peasants to make the levy look bigger than truth, be sure they look like they know which end of a spear to stick in a foe When our duke comes to assert his might we’ll have a surprise waiting for him.” Connor tugged his forelock, “As you command, Lordship.” Aed moved towards his small unit of knights, intent on hammering his bodyguard into peak condition before the fighting began, tossing the remains of the message onto one of the cooking fires as he went. “Oh aye, a surprise for our would-be Lordling.”






And so it begins...

Firstly this does not mean I have abandoned Eleanor, I can easily write two tales at once. As I get stuck on one I move across to the other.

Secondly this story is based on my current game in Crusader Kings, as the Duke of Ulster. The characters are all real, the traits they have in-game decide their personality on the page. Events, likewise, are taken from the game. I have altered a few details here and there to make for better reading, for example Culad is now over a decade younger and Donchad is his cousin instead of some strange guy with no ties to the house of Uliad. The whole thing is very different in tone to my other work, only funny by occasion, quite nasty some times, also a bit of a tragedy on a at least one occasion. Not sure if it works well enough or not.

Thankfully for my sanity the characters and their world remain firmly under my control, even if I wish to alter things dramatically from how they 'actually' happened. So no more mad, self creating princesses to torment poor froggy, the existing one and her bodyguard is more than enough This does have the side effect of making everyone and everything somehow less good, but since I have my hands full with the gooseberry I don't mind too much.

Does anyone want a map of Ireland and its in-game provinces? I can provide one easily, so long as it can go on the story space. Ditto pictures of the main characters.

EDITED: to include character list which will be updated as new faces appear.

[Axeknight]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ April 23 2004,23:49)]Margaret is quite renowned for her intrigue skills.

Will Fulk be coming too?

Seriously, I like it so far. How long do you want this to end up? (how many chapters, I mean)

[frogbeastegg]

Fulk's run off with some tart called Margaret? Eleanor is not going to be happy I never suspected a thing either, I thought he was still crazy about princess Gooseberry... What a rat Even more so in light of recent events outside the current story's timeline. I just don't believe it.

Margaret's spy skills come from her stats, not my invention. 10 in intregue, 10 in diplomacy, 6 in martial and 4 in stewardship. She also has the suspicious trait - a born spymaster.

As for how long this is going to be that depends on how far I write. My overall ambition in-game is to become king of Ireland, nothing more. However that will take until Culad's grandchildren's days, maybe even great grandchildren. I will certainly write until the end of this war, and maybe the bits that follow that. I would guess the story will be about 20-40 pages if I just write that bit, not sure how many pages past that. I'll ber posting new bits as they are written, no specific timing for them and no set places to stop the story until the next part. It all depends on where it gets hard to write and/or too long to read comfortably.

[Axeknight]

One thing about this that interests me is that you're still playing as you write it. So it could all end in ignomonious defeat. That means that the story won't ever become predictable, cause you might just make a stupid mistake in the game. I like that idea

[frogbeastegg]

“Aed O’Neill answers that what you say will be done, Lordship. He says he’ll look for your support when it is right.”
“Excellent, you may go.” the messenger bowed and left, and count Sigtryg turned to his spymaster, “What was your report?” Fionna quickly stepped forward and began her report, “Culad’s marrying, Lordship, Margaret Atheling from the court of England. He’s also sending out feelers into county Mide to delay the bishop from entering our feud, bribing his mistress to influence matters.”
“Married you say? Well, well…” Sigtryg leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, deep in thought, “I never thought he had it in him, and an English wife at that. Now you’d say that’s a lack of faith in our good Irish blood, seeking a foreign wife like that?” Sigtryg’s court rushed to agree with him, a sea of voices calling condemnation on Culad’s folly and unworthiness to lead Ulster. Sigtryg held up his hand, and at once the room quietened, “And it’s such as this that claims to be our duke, well I’ll be saying he’s proved again he’s not fit I too will marry, but a fine Irish girl, for I’m not seeing any fault in our blood” the room filled with cheers, Sigtryg allowed them to continue for a few seconds before holding up a hand, again calling for silence, “Let it be announced I will take Brigida for a wife in three days from now. Begin the preparations.” This time there were no cheers, eventually Fionna stepped forward and nervously spoke the doubt on everyone’s minds, “Lordship, it’s well known that Brigida has been spoken for…”
“I say that is not so.”
“Lordship her father, and her betrothed…they will not be pleased.” Sigtryg brushed this concern aside, “Her father will be pleased she has gone so far in this world, her betrothed will be silent or be silenced – I trust you can arrange that, spymaster? For if not I’ll have me a new spymaster, aye and a new court who sees my glories, not these petty trifles that stand not in my way” There was an uneasy quiet, before Fionna curtseyed and stepped back, and the courtiers began to congratulate their count on his impending wedding. Sigtryg spoke again, in a loud and clear voice, “As to our ally and great friend, the Bishop of Mide, well I say that I’m confidant he will soon see the truth of the matter and come rushing to our side. He’ll not be tarrying with some wench when his divine duty calls. And let it be seen that I, unlike that nothing in Uliar, do not tarnish my soul with such low tricks, nor do I influence things in unnatural ways Court dismissed” As the people filed out of the room, gossiping about the wedding and agreeing loudly that their lord was very different to Culad, Fionna lingered, certain that her lord would want to speak to her. She was right, as soon as they were alone Sigtryg waved her over and said quietly, “I have boundless faith in the Almighty, but even God can use a hand from time to time. Show the Bishop’s mistress a thing or two about divine fury, for I’ll have that Bishop on the field at my side or I’ll be duty bound to send a quiet word to the Holy Father in Rome, it’d be a shame to see a pious man take such a fall.”

Culad stared gloomily across the crowded hall at his new wife and took a large gulp of his mead, “She’s got dark hair.” he accused. Donchad tried to cheer his friend up, “You’ll adapt, come on – it’s your wedding day, be happy or at least try to look happy. Right now you’re looking like curdled cheese”
“And dark eyes. I told you to find someone I’d like.”
“You might like her if you did more than stand as far away from her as possible, drinking.”
“I did try.” Culad muttered. Donchad prompted him, “Well? What happened?” Culad remembered the short meeting he had had with his bride the day before. He’d asked what she thought about their impending marriage, she had replied ‘It was judged best for me by my liege lord, how can I disagree with that?’. He’d answered that with ‘My cousin thought it best for me, how can I dispute that?’ and for a second Margaret had looked at him, instead of beyond him. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else to say, and she soon went back to polite distantness. Apart from that incident she had met his sulky resignation with polite coldness; somehow Culad didn’t want to admit his famous charm had failed spectacularly for once, “She’s too tall.”
“You’d chased after taller, aye and with a silly smile on your face too.”
“She’s so…” Culad hesitated, drank another gulp of mead and continued before he thought better of it, “She hates me.”
“Ah you’ll charm her, same as ever.”
“Somehow I don’t think so.”
“Well then think of it so; you’ll not be needing to like her, merely father a son or two and that’s all. You can visit other women for liking, and place yonder wife in a lonely house you never visit.” Culad finished off his mead and grabbed another cup full from a passing servant, downed half of that in one go and resumed staring unhappily at Margaret, “You know being hated is quite off-putting.”
“Then think of the money you gained – enough to fight the entire year out”
“I think the money hates me too.”
“For God’s sake man, stop your whinging You’ve killed several birds with one stone, all your court is here agreeing how lovely your new wife looks – even if you don’t like dark you’ve got to admit that much, and that’s not even charity but honest truth You’ll be gone from here on campaign inside of a week, and soon you’ll have defeated your traitors and set thing to right. Then you’ll be able to take to the field against the lords of Dublin, and the bards’ll proclaim your glory through the ages just like Cuchulain and Finn MacCool. All you have to do is pretend to be happy for one night, so smile and be nice”
“Easy for you to say, you’re the one who got me in this mess and you’re also the one who’ll not be marrying someone wishing you dead”
“You’re exaggerating.” Donchad wrested the cup of mead from his cousin’s hand, “And stop drinking She’ll not thank you for turning up drunk”
“She’ll not thank me for turning up at all.” Culad noticed Margaret looking at him from a knot of female courtiers, “Look – see The ways she’s looking at me you’d think I’m the plague made human and dancing away with rotting bits falling off onto the floor” Culad grabbed another drink and tried to gulp it down, only to have his cup stolen by Donchad, “Looks to me more like she’s scared, now you can’t blame that since she doesn’t know anyone here being from England, and you’re hardly making her feel welcome and at ease.”
“I wish she’d go back to England, preferably immediately.” Donchad handed both of his intercepted drinks off to a nearby servant, grasped Culad firmly by the shoulders and turned him to face his bride, and gave him a push to get him walking, “Aye, but what you’re going to do is go over there and talk to her and be nice – nice Got that? Nice, be charming or something, you got that reputation for a reason now go put your skills to use It’s getting late in the evening, and you know what that means.”. Culad dug his heels in, “A condemned prisoner gets less from his executioner” Donchad pushed his friend step by stubborn step over towards the knot of courtiers containing the unhappy bride. He hissed in Culad’s ear, “Talk for a bit, then do your duty, get it over with, and be nice” and with one final shove propelled Culad into the middle of the group. Stumbling slightly Culad found himself looking into a pair of deep brown eyes in a closed and wary face. What did the famous lover say to his new wife? “Um, er…hello?”

The next morning Culad met Donchad and the rest of his court in the war room. As Culad walked through the door the room erupted into bawdy jokes, and Donchad pressed a goblet of wine into his hand, slapped him on the back and asked, “How’d it go then, get much sleep?” Crossly Culad pushed his cousin away, “I don’t want to talk about it”. The room stilled to a hushed silence as Culad sat down and swirled the wine about in his goblet. Cautiously one man whispered to his neighbours, “Well that’d be a first then.”, another man nodded and muttered back, “Aye, usually he won’t shut up.”. Again the room went silent as Culad continued to play with his wine, lost in a world of his own. Ayd, the Steward, cleared his throat noisily, “So, the plans of attack then?” Culad didn’t move, or give any sign that he had even heard Ayd speak. Donchad tapped his cousin on the shoulder, Culad started, spilling his wine before blinking and ridding himself of whatever thoughts were occupying his mind. Ayd repeated himself, “The attack, Lordship.”
“We leave as soon as possible.” stated Culad confidently, “Tomorrow morning at the latest, today if possible. The entire levy’ll be going, with myself at the head and Donchad as marshal at my right. Not a single man will stay here to defend our homes, for we’ll need every available body on the field of battle to win through this. We’ll be taking down Aed first, then going for Sigtryg. Once Ulster is united again we’ll see to the Bishop and Conchbar, Duke of Meath and count of Dublin.” Donchad spoke up gravely, “We’ve had news of our advance force, and it’s not good. They were forced to retreat; enemy reinforcements arrived and lifted the siege. Our small force of 50 stood no chance. There’s worse, I do fear. Aed wasn’t even in that hill fort – we were out tricked, and I’m not certain of what trickery lies ahead neither.” Donchad hurried to defend himself, “I’m no spy, leave me fight the battles and let someone else do the cloak and dagger”
“We could use a spymaster, Lordship, to counter the tricks of our foes.” ventured Gofraid, an old man in his 60’s and as bald as a coot. Culad nodded, “Very well. Any suggestions?” The councilmen looked at each other and arrived at a mutual conclusion without speaking. Donchad gave their verdict, “The lady Margaret would be the best we have, by far and away.”
“No suggestions then?” said Culad, ignoring what his kinsman had said, “I’ll speak then. Tagd, the post is yours, so serve me well. Any more business? No, then I’ll be off now. We march tomorrow.” and with that he swept out of the room. The council sat in stunned silence for a while, before Donchad rose to his feet and made towards the door, “I’d best go see what I can find out, for he’s in the worst temper I’ve ever seen.”

Acting on a hunch based off his long time friendship with his cousin Donchad made his way to the stables, and sure enough there was Culad saddling his horse and making ready to ride. Culad studiously ignored his kinsman’s presence until Donchad spoke, “Will you not say what’s bothering you Culad?” Culad didn’t look up from tightening his horse’s girth strap, “You pushed for this marriage, and you got it, and you’ve made two people very unhappy, and bound together in that for life. Be happy with your creation.”
“It can’t be so bad, surely not.”
“That it can.”
“Culad-” The duke of Ulster rounded on his cousin, “No, don’t be saying any more of your nice words, for this is a mess and both partners in this marriage know it – there’s the one thing my wife and I have in common and isn’t it a pretty and precious little thing? She’s terrified of me, lonely and lost in a strange land. I’m not sure what to do with her myself, and that makes me stammer like a fool – me, the famed lover not sure what to do I hate that And you think from this we’ll be happy? Well cousin I say not and doubtless she’d agree” Culad mounted his horse and started it at a walk towards the castle gate. Donchad jogged after him, “Things may change, Margaret-”
“You know what that name puts me in mind of now?” Culad reined in his horse and glared down at his cousin, “Crying, that’s what, and most like my name has the same effect on her memory. Duty never made anyone happy.” with that Culad kicked his horse into a canter and rode away.






Of course Culad and Margaret being miserable isn't in the game, but it's as good an explantion for certain events and timings as any.

[Axeknight]

You're probably getting tired of my comments by now, but here goes

I liked the 'do your duty' bit - v. funny. Is Fionna (Sigtryg's spymaster) a girl? Is it a spelling of Fiona, or an Irish gaelic name?

[frogbeastegg]

I never get tired of comments, while I write for personal fun it is always pleasant to hear of someone else who liked my scribblings, or to hear how I can improve.

Do your duty, I found that rather sad really...well I must admit Culad being pushed over to his wife, and not being able to think of anything to say was quite funny. Their relationship right now is pretty damn terible, but it is funny somehow, even though it shouldn't be.

Fionna is a female name, since you can have female spy masters, chancellors and stewards. Marshals and Diocese bishops are limited to men only though. Fionna is just an alternate spelling of Fiona...or it is a froggy spelling mistake of Fiona, one of the two

[frogbeastegg]

The next morning in the grounds of castle Uliad Culad and his personal bodyguard were assembling, making ready to ride out at the head of the levy. Twenty men dressed in long mail hauberks, with spangenhelms and large shields in the Norman style, clattered about as they stowed the last of their gear on their packhorses, gave orders to their squires, saw that their warhorses were well taken care of, and mounted their palfreys to spare the energy of the great destriers for battle. The twenty-first man was already mounted up and ready to go, his helm hung on his saddle by its chinstraps and the mail coif pushed back onto his shoulders. Culad was staring at a window in the stone keep, oblivious to the bustle taking place about him, once again lost in dreary thought. The window was empty, not a soul visible inside that room. His wife had not come down to see him off, and she was not watching from her window. Culad was surprised to find that he was disappointed, ”Why am I even bothered?” he thought, ”This way avoids awkward scenes, at the very least.” Wrenching his gaze away from the castle window Culad noticed Donchad striding across the courtyard towards him; dressed in a mail hauberk and padded aketon the same as the cavalry guard, with a sword belted about his waist. He had left his other equipment along with his horse in the hands of his squire. Donchad halted next to his kinsman and saluted, “The infantry contingent is ready to move out at your order.”
“Good.” Culad looked back at his own bodyguard, the only cavalry his army possessed, and saw they were still finishing their preparations. Donchad grinned, “I see the cavalry’s as slow as ever, you’d not be needing the horses if you moved a bit quicker on your own feet”
“You’re just sour because I ordered you to the infantry instead of letting you command my cavalry. Well I’ll say it again – I’m not having both leaders in the one unit, and you’ll hardly be seeing a duke marching while his marshal rides into battle now.”
“Aye, fair enough and I always preferred fighting on my own two feet anyhow. It’s harder to fall off them for a start, and they’re not having a mind of their own either” Donchad saw Culad was looking up at the window again, and asked, “Did you say goodbye to your wife?”
“Well…”
“Culad Look the sooner you have an heir or two the sooner you can forget she exists. Besides if you try to get to know her you might like her.”
“I did go” protested Culad defensively. Donchad tutted, “Well why didn’t you say so How’d it go?”
“She, er she…she locked the door in my face.” mumbled Culad. Donchad laughed in disbelief, “What? You, the famous Culad the Lusty, getting thrown out by your wife? What on earth did she say?”
“Er, something about duty’s done, me needing all my energy for the upcoming battles, and anyway she has a headache.”
“What did you say to that then?”
“Um…nothing actually. No one’s ever said no before, and I wasn’t inclined to press matters. Er, don’t tell anyone? I’d not like people to get the wrong idea, or other such foolery.”
“Dear Lord You’ve been trampled, routed in battle, beaten by a superior foe, crushed-“
“Yes, yes, enough already Let’s go kill some rebels, and hope things go better there than they have here. And mind that you’ll be in the same boat when you’re married, so less of the mockery.”
“Oh I do doubt that, and anyway that’ll be some time in happening – Nuala’s father said no.”
“He disagreed to your suit? Why? You’re the second highest man in Uliad, surely not one to be turned down.”
“Not turned down as such, more like told to come back later. He has this strange thing about my getting killed in your little war here; he’s not overly keen to see his daughter a widow inside of a half-year. I do wonder what he’s about, for we’ve both done our share of fighting before and neither of us died, or if we did I hadn’t noticed it.”
“Ah, old men always worry, about death most of all since the reaper is so close on their heels”
“Aye, well I’ll be coming home for our little war covered in glory and then I’ll be asking again. Who could refuse a victorious warrior, especially a victorious marshal?” The conversation was interrupted by the captain of Culad’s bodyguard coughing to alert them to his presence, “Lordship we are ready to move at your command.”
“I’d best get back to my infantry, “said Donchad, Culad nodded, and Donchad left. The unit of cavalry formed up into a column 4 wide, with the baggage, spare horses, and squires at the back, and with Culad at the head they rode out through the gateway of the courtyard and out into the fields where the infantry awaited. As he rode along the road to take his place at the front of the army Culad surveyed his forces. Nearly five hundred spearmen, all with six-foot long spears and round wooden shields of various sizes, most of the spearmen had at least an aketon to protect their body. Some richer men had simple helmets, and a very few wore short mail shirts. ”A good enough core,” thought Culad, ”They’ll be reliable enough and well trained in the spearwall by now.” Scattered here and there throughout the infantry were archers and light infantry skirmishers, about a hundred in all. They would support the spearwall, drive off enemy ranged units, and try to break the enemy shield wall by killing men at key points as the two armies closed for battle. Smallest in number, but perhaps the most valuable of all, were the heavy infantrymen. They were kitted out like Donchad and the cavalry guard in full mail hauberks, conical spangenhelms, and using large full body shields. Each man was armed with a two-handed battle-axe and a sword. These men were professionals, the elite of the infantry, and the ones who would be responsible for keeping morale in the spearwall high. Dispersed in the front ranks of the spearwall they would swing their axes in a deadly, never ending pattern that would cleave a man in two if he were foolish enough to get in the way. Culad was worried by how few of these men there were, dangerously few, and maybe not enough to keep morale steady and put fear into the hearts of the foe. With a pang Culad noticed one man saying goodbye to a woman, who was busy fussing over him, and most likely telling him to be careful. He finally realised why the absence of Margaret had bothered him – this was the first time he had left to fight without someone to see him off, usually it was him with the woman pleading with him to come back alive and in one piece, and promising dire retribution if he didn’t. “But which would be worse?” Culad wondered, “The not having anyone at all, or the fact I’d know she’d be happier if I didn’t come back?”

Aed was dining when Connor reported to him, “Lordship, Culad is on the march. He’ll be at our border inside of a week.”
“So, campaigning in late January while the weather’s foul…our duke obliges us with his eagerness. Let him march up and down the province in the mud and weather, wasting his resources and men. He can take a hill fort or two, but we’ll not give direct battle. Harass his lines, kill a man here and a man there, but lose as few as possible yourself, for I’m only giving you that hundred of good men we set aside. Make him over confidant in his victory, for we’re naught but cowards who fear his might. Keep him occupied for as long as possible, I’ll be running in terror with my levy to guard me, off to hide and cower like a baby.”
“Lordship” protested Connor, shocked and disgusted by his liege’s orders. Aed smirked, “Then when he’s spent much of his power and is confidant of easy victory we’ll be calling on Sigtryg and enacting our plan, and that’ll be putting an end to him. What’s the loss of a few wood huts and the local peasant militia who’ll manning the walls? Nothing, not when the dukedom is at stake. How long can you keep him occupied chasing after you and laying siege to our less important hill forts?”
“A month at least, given the time of year and the roads being bad to travel, maybe longer. If your Lordship could be seen by people at the far ends of the province from time to time it’d help, for our duke’ll gladly chase off after you in a bid to bring you to heel quickly, and if he’s chasing ghosts that’ll slow him still further.”
“I do doubt the dedication of our militias and how glad they’ll be to die for our cause. Best put word about that Culad will be killing all who surrender to him, and that he’ll be oppressing the people if he takes this province – you know the kind of thing that’ll put some spine in those farmers.”

[frogbeastegg]

For the past 11 days Culad’s army had been camped outside a minor hill fort just past the border between Uliad and Tir Eoghain, starving the garrison out, as assault was judged too costly for a small army with many battles ahead. Inside his command tent Culad was discussing strategy with his generals. “It cannot continue so.” reported Enna, the watch captain, “We’re losing men from these raids and doing little in return, and it’s harming morale. We cannot be letting our sentries and patrols be picked off like this”
“Have you tried sending out lager patrols?” asked Eogan, second in command of the infantry. “Aye, that was the first thing,” Enna didn’t try to hide the scorn in his voice, “I’m no boy playing at soldiers, and I know my craft These raiders are canny though, and they’ll avoid any large groups, only to attack some small party elsewhere. We’ve not been able to pin them down, not at all.”
“How many men are in these raiding parties?” asked Culad. Enna shrugged his shoulders, “We’re estimating about four score, mayhap more but it’s hard to tell.”
“It seems to me that they’re wanting a good target,” mused Culad, “And if we’re obliging and provide that target we’ll be the piper calling the tune.”
“But what kind of target?” asked Donchad, with a creeping suspicion as to the answer. Culad slowly smiled, “Why the duke of Ulster, nearly alone and unguarded, ripe for the killing.”

Two days later Culad and his mounted bodyguards rode along the road, far from the safety of the siege camp set up outside the nearby enemy hill fort. Without hesitating Culad continued to follow the road, leading his troop into a thicket of trees with no care for scouting ahead. When the troop was about half way through the trees everything turned to chaos, armed men poured out of the bushes and foliage, blocking the escape routes and moving to attack. Culad levelled his lance and kicked his horse into a gallop, aiming to break through enemy lines with a charge, and hoping at least some of his men would be able to follow him. He didn’t reach full speed, there wasn’t space, but all the same horse and rider smashed into the thin line of enemy infantry, who jumped out of the way in panicked fear. One man wasn’t fast enough, and Culad’s lance speared him through the chest. Immediately Culad released his lance and drew his sword while still recovering from the recoil of his impact, slowing his horse and turning back towards the fighting. With his charge halted the three closest survivors gained courage and moved in to kill him. Culad encouraged his horse to rear and kick at the two men in front of him, they dodged back from the flailing hooves, and Culad slashed at another man on his right side, trying to keep the men at distance. A spear lunged at him, by reflex Culad leaned to one side, out of its path, but he felt a line of fire burn across his right hand. The owner of the spear howled as Culad’s horse bit his arm, and Culad finished the man off with a slashing blow to the shoulder, struggling to keep a grip on a sword hilt made slippery by his own blood. Suddenly, without warning Culad’s horse reared wildly, pitching him from his saddle. He landed sprawled on the ground, winded and vulnerable, and only just able to roll out of the way as one of the enemy lunged at him with a sword. Sensing victory the two nearby men closed in on him, giving him no time to regain his feet. Then someone was there, sheltering Culad under his shield and giving him time to regain his feet. Culad greeted his rescuer, “Damn you man You took your sweet time” Donchad fainted at one man, “Well your fools plan called for us to be a long way back And you’ll know how slow infantry move without fancy horses.” Culad spotted an opening and thrust his sword past his opponent’s guard, stabbing him in the armpit. With a scream the man collapsed, his fall wrenching the sword out of Culad’s slippery grip. Cursing Culad drew his dagger and took on a new opponent who had appeared from the melee, while Donchad felled his man with a cut to the leg that hacked through the shinbone. Over the din of the fighting a call could be heard to retreat, and slowly the enemy began to fall back. Culad didn’t join the pursuit; instead he dropped his heavy shield, pulled off his helm and wiped his sweat-streaked brow. Donchad stayed by his cousin’s side, leaving the pursuit to his officers, “Let’s be having a look at that hand of yours then.” “It’s not so bad, just a scratch that’s gone right through a vein. Where’s my horse? Cursed animal threw me, aye and how’s our status? How many lost? How many enemy killed?”
“Why can’t you be asking questions I know the answers to?” replied Donchad good-naturedly. Culad ignored him and looked about at the battlefield. There were surprisingly few bodies, either wounded or dead. A few riderless horses roamed about; under a tree some distance away Culad spotted his own horse. It was immediately apparent why he had been thrown – the stallion had an arrow protruding from its shoulder. “Lordship?” Culad turned to face the source of the voice; it belonged to the captain of his cavalry guard. The man saluted and made his report, “We’ve lost one man dead, another 3 are wounded somewhat, and almost all have scrapes and scratches but none so bad. We’re down a few horses, both dead and hurt. None so sure of our infantry though Lordship, for I’ve not had time to conduct a count of bodies, and there’ll be the pursuit to finish before any accurate tally can be made.”
“Thank you Pilib, gather our dead and wounded for transport back to camp, finish off the enemy wounded for we’ve no time to be playing with prisoners.” Pilip saluted again and left to carry out his orders. “Cousin? What’ll we be doing now then?”
“Well I’m for finding my sword, taking care of my horse, then going back to camp and getting this hand seen to before I bleed dry. You go see to your own now, Donchad.”
“Right enough, I’ll be off then.” When his kinsman had left Culad started searching for his lost sword.

That same evening Culad and his war council met again, this time to hear how the plan had gone. Donchad made the main report, “We lost 2 cavalrymen, one dead outright, the other from wounds. All others should make it back into battle within the week. From the infantry we lost 9 men killed in battle or from wounds, there are a couple mutilated and in need of releasing home, and assorted wounded who’ll be fit as fleas again soon. Now our enemy, well we’ve counted 27 bodies, and that includes those wounded we finished off. I think we put the fear into them, and they’ll not be so bold now.”
“None so bad then.” said Culad, playing absentmindedly with the bandages on his right hand, “Continue with the siege, keep the patrols of good size, and we should have solved the problem. Dismissed.” Everyone filed out of the tent except Donchad, who lingered. Culad sighed, “What is it you want to pester me about this time then?”
“It’s time you were off home for a day or two Culad, it’s been more than a month since the wedding and there’s not been any reports of impending fatherhood.”
“I’m needed here.”
“Now that’s just an excuse, for you know you’re not I can handle this siege for a few days, and if you don’t believe I can you’d best be finding a new marshal who can. I can order an army, but you’re the only one who can make your heir.”
“Thank you for putting such a blunt point on it, Donchad I do swear sometimes you’d make even the most well travelled man blush”
“Go home, Culad. You’ll have to go sooner or later, and if you go sooner you may not need to go later.”
“You remind me of my old granny telling me to go to church”
“Well she was a fine old woman with a good head on her shoulders, and doubtless she’d say the same as I – go home.”
“Ah, so be it then, if it’ll get me away from your pestering” Culad immediately started planning excuses to avoid even meeting Margaret.



Ok, so I'm no good at writing fight scenes.

[Axeknight]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ April 26 2004,23:08)]“Have you tried sending out lager patrols?”

ROFL

Maybe if you put big signs all over the Guild you'll get another critic . I liked the fight scene, actually, I thought it wasn't too long, and you kept the pace up nicely.

[The Wizard]

Well, the only gripe with your fight scene is it started a bit too abruptly. But the description of the scene itself is A-OK



~Wiz

[frogbeastegg]

Sigtryg was glad he had chosen to receive this message away from the yes men of his court. “Get Fionna, and hurry about it” The messenger practically ran out the room to find the spymaster, and Sigtryg reread the message again. ‘I am far too grieved with the tragic loss of Imag to go to war, or even to speak to my liege lord on the matter. I’ll not be joining your cause, for you are to blame for this.’ Sigtryg clenched his fist, crushing the scrap of parchment into a crumpled mess, “Damn him He’ll not be doing this, not now.” he began pacing up and down the room, waiting for Fionna to arrive. About quarter of an hour later she appeared, Sigtryg didn’t give her chance to say anything, “Read this.” he demanded, thrusting the crumpled letter at the spymaster. Fionna read the note, and Sigtryg resumed his pacing, “Well what do you think to that then? You said our assassin was undetected, that there was no suspicion that could be falling on us”
“Lordship it is true, he shouldn’t have been any the wiser-”
“Aye, well he is and now we’ve got an outraged bishop to deal with We need him and his influence, and I’ll not be letting him off the hook so easily as that. Replace with me some leverage - something to work with to my advantage, and find it quickly.”

When Culad was about a mile from his home castle he spotted a small group of riders out hawking. His heart sank when he recognised the figure in the centre of the group. It was Margaret, and there was no way to avoid her. Sending his escort on ahead Culad rode over, hoping he could say a polite hello and then leave as quickly as possible. Any hope Culad had of a less than awkward reunion vanished as soon as Margaret saw him; her face fell into a mask of cold neutrality. Her companions drew back out of earshot, gossiping excitedly. Culad bought his horse to a halt next to hers, and they sat there in an uncomfortable silence for a while before Culad ventured, “No door this time.”
“No.” There was a long pause before Margaret spoke again, “How long do you plan on staying?”
“Tomorrow, the day after, then back to the fighting.”
“Oh.” Another long pause followed, before Culad answered the unspoken question, “I’m planning on claiming my wounds are too serious to do anything about an heir, I’ll say that suits us both well enough.” Margaret finally looked directly at Culad, “You were wounded?” Culad held up his bandaged hand, “Only a scratch, not so bad as you were doubtless hoping. I’ll not be dying from this.”
“Why would I wish you dead? I would only have to return to England for another diplomatic marriage.”
“You might like the next one.”
“I could do even worse.”
“Even worse.” repeated Culad bitterly, Margaret kept looking directly at him, and said equally bitterly, “I dare say you could do even worse too, someone taller, or with darker eyes.”
“You heard that? How?”
“I heard nothing.”
“Then how’d you know?” demanded Culad, “Tell me”
“I can lip read.”
“In Irish?”
“In any language I speak.”
“Damn it” exclaimed Culad, “Why did no one tell me of that?”
“You never asked.” They lapsed into silence again, Culad’s mind frenetically working to think of something to say to end this meeting. Margaret interrupted his thoughts of an escape, “You could just go.” she smiled very slightly at Culad’s surprise, “I read faces too.”
“Damn it” Culad rode off before he could embarrass himself further, certain he could hear Margaret laughing at his rapidly retreating back.

Late that evening Culad was still awake, sat in his rooms with a jug of wine, wondering how quickly he could leave without being bothered by Donchad on his return. “So you’re alone then.” Culad started, surprised by the voice. He turned around and saw Margaret stood in the doorway, silently closing the door behind herself. Culad dabbed at the wine he had spilled on his tunic, “Sweet Jesus, don’t do that Of course I’m alone, what were you expecting? To find me in a compromising position with a serving girl?”
“From your reputation, yes.”
“Aye, well I’m a mite sick of people who’re interested in the duke, but care naught for the man behind the title – besides all those gifts I had to give out were expensive, and I’d rather not be bankrupted.”
“So I am married to a retired womaniser?”
“Before you know it I’ll be a chaste monk.” said Culad, needled by her tone, “Look why are you here? Not to offer to replace that serving girl that’s for sure.”
“Not unless you order it and I can’t escape fast enough.” Margaret edged slightly closer to the door as she spoke. Culad snorted, “I always thought that clause was invented for fat, foul old men with too much interest in their young wives.”
“I always thought it was invented by them.” There was a rather shocked silence as both Culad and Margaret realised that they had almost managed to make a friendly joke. Culad took a sip of his wine; “I’m thinking we’ll both agree that we suffered enough on our wedding night, without repeating the experience.”
“What about that heir everyone is endlessly fussing about?”
“Oh I’ll just continue this elective thing, and make it known I have a new favourite to follow me.” Culad grinned wickedly, “I’m thinking I could name Donchad, for then he’ll have good reason to stop pushing me at you, making life easier for us both.” Margaret laughed, the first time Culad had seen her without the mask of cold politeness, “Now that is an interesting idea”
“I’ve this awful feeling he’ll not be happy though, Donchad’s the kind of man who’ll point out that he might rebel, and therefore he’ll not be a good heir. He’ll be complaining about not wanting to be duke because it’s too much dull work. Some folk are never happy. So you’ll stop slamming doors in my face then?” wary silence answered his question. Culad sighed, “Look I’m not over keen about getting my face smashed by a door, I’m none so bothered about an heir, I’m not a fat old man who needs to learn to grow old gracefully, and most important of all I’m really not interested in sharing a bed with someone who doesn’t want to be there – it’s damned off-putting and I’m still feeling guilty enough about last time without lumping more bad conscience onto things.”
“So you will go and bother someone else then?”
“I might just pursue that career as a monk, for a while at least – I need my gold to fund this war, and as I said before I’m sick of being a title. Er…I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take up with the court jester or something.”
“There’s little danger of that – your jester is a hunchback.”
“So we’re in agreement then? Good, now all that remains is to trick Donchad into accepting being my heir somehow, I’ll not be announcing anything until I can do that.” Culad poured another goblet of wine and offered it to Margaret, “You never did say why you’re here.” After a slight hesitation Margaret came closer and took the goblet, “One of your army officers is a traitor, but I am not certain which. I suspect it may be a man called Eogan, is that name known to you?”
“Aye, second in command of my infantry, right behind Donchad. Are you sure? He’s an old veteran of my father’s, I always believed him loyal.”
“The existence of the traitor is certain. I have ears in the enemy camps-”
“That was fast, and without my say so Why?”
“Intrigue and diplomacy are my specialities, I like to know what is going on. Before you swear and ask why no one told you I’ll say again you never asked.”
“Why would I ask?” Margaret frowned, irritated, “There is a reason I was the most sought after catches of king William’s court – I am rather famous for my skills, you were one of many offers.”
“Well Donchad did all the arranging and searching, he never mentioned anything.” Culad conveniently forgot that Donchad had told him his wife would make a good spymaster. Margaret smiled wryly, “Chased by half of Western Europe, fat old men and a bare handful of younger ones, for my skills and I end up with the one man who not only didn’t care, but didn’t even know I suppose there is some poetic justice in that”
“Er, I’ll count this as an unexpected bonus then. If you’re right about Eogan I’d best keep my eye on him.”
“You do that. If I find anything else I will let you know.” Margaret stood up to leave. “Wait a minute.” Culad sat up straight, “Why are you telling me of this?”
“Better you than some fat old man with an eye to his rights.” This time Culad let her go when she tried to leave.







Axeknight the only critic job I can advertise now is 'froggy critic', that being a critic who follows me around, criticing That is a job you can apply for without me advertising, which saves me money - these org adverts are expensive

Thank you both for your comments on the fight. I thought it started too abruptly, seemed too short considering this is over 10 minutes of fighting, had a rather lame ending, and just didn't quite work. I'm still not ecstatic about how it reads, but if people are saying that it was ok then I do have some hope of writing the later battles...it appears shorter is slightly better.

[The Wizard]

Froggy, I saw in the LibrAARy in the CK official forums that there was an AAR also called 'Blood Red Hand of Ulster'. Yet it isn't written like yours...

Also, could you post some screenshots of how your game looks? Thanks



~Wiz

[frogbeastegg]

There are two AARs with blood red hand in the title, mine which is identical in title ect to this topic, and another one which is entirely different, The O'Neill Chronicles: The (Blood-) Red Hand of Ulster . That second story has Aed has the hero.

By pictures do you mean portraits, character screens, maps etc? I'll send a few in to the story hosting, and if Monk thinks it is appropriate to use the space for story illustrations you should see something soon...ish.

[Axeknight]

Follow you around, eh? *hides night vision goggles* Why would I want to do that?

Personally, I reckon old Donch ain't gonna be duke. Methinks Culad will have an heir, eventually

[frogbeastegg]

:draws curtain over the window so no one can see in:

I wish I had been so sure of Culad's heir - it makes you feel so perverted when you find yourself sitting around anxiously monitoring the sex lives of two characters, tearing your hair out because it has been 3 months and still no pregnancy announcement I mean come on everyone else manages it quickly enough, what's the hold up? She's 21, good health etc so there should be no problems, hell she even looks good for a CK character Culad is getting old (remember he is over a decade older in the game), has the lust trait but no children, so maybe the problem is him? Probably not, but you never know...

Then you find yourself thinking maybe there is something you can do to encourage things. In the end I just came to the conclusion that they must really hate each other, and that was responsible for the lack of that urgently needed male heir. Things get worse when you find your hated rival and rogue vassal has outdone you, and you find yourself wondering if you can arrange for Margaret to have an accident with a lover or something, and then scribble Culad's name on the birth certificate At that point you start contumplating the corrupting influence of games.

It is really worrying, because if Culad dies childless I have no heir with my name, and so the game ends...

I have uploaded pictures of Culad, Donchad and Margaret, as well as a map showing where everything is and who owns what. Are there any other pictures people want?

[The Wizard]

Sounds good to me.



~Wiz

[Axeknight]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ April 27 2004,19:52)]Then you find yourself thinking maybe there is something you can do to encourage things.

Right. So I'm dressing up as a sailor, and you're...

[frogbeastegg]

Aed O’Neill stood near the front of Sigtryg’s court, wondering how much longer it would take before the count got on with whatever he had called this gathering for. Aed hoped it would be the announcement that they were finally going to take the war to Culad, since he had been forced to flee his own lands and take refuge with Sigtryg nearly two weeks ago he had been itching to get back and take revenge. As a staged hush fell over the court Sigtryg began his speech, “You’ll all be knowing that nearly two months ago I married Brigida, well today I’m announcing the impending birth of my son and heir. That’d be far more than Culad’s managed with his fancy foreign blood, and more than he’ll ever manage. Go spread the news.” Sigtryg beckoned Aed over to him, and they retreated to Sigtryg’s private rooms. Aed was able to hold his tongue no longer, “Why do you fill your court with such spineless nodding fools? They’ll give naught but bad advice”
“Oh I know that” Sigtryg sat himself down beside the fireplace, and gestured for Aed to do likewise. “My court is the biggest collection of worthless fools in the province, all of them noble, and all of them worthless – you noted that none dared tell me Margaret was a far better catch than Brigida, who was never more than a poor second best? None of those mentioned Culad’s victories in our little war? Nor said my child may not be a son, or even live to be born? Not a soul said Culad might yet have children – they all nod and giggle along to my stupid remarks, but it is the ones who don’t and the ones who speak out that I’m really having a court for. Wheat from the chaff, Aed, wheat from the chaff.” Realisation and understanding dawned on Aed, “So, the man who’ll defy popular opinion and his lord to give good advice against his own say so…aye, that’s the one you’re after, and this is a grand way to find them out.” Aed changed the subject to one dearer to his own heart, “Now when’ll we be going back to finish Culad?”
“Patience, patience – without patience we’ll be in a poor position, and I’ll not allow that.”
“Patience Easy for you, doubtless, but my lands, my fortifications, my crops all being burned I’ve not lost the province, but too many of my forts have been burned down for me to continue hiding while waiting for you and your plan”
“Calm down man, we’ll sort matters soon enough and you will be well compensated for your losses.”
“Then we’re to the battlefield then? At least”
“Nay, not yet – another few weeks then we’ll move.”
“Weeks” protested Aed, “Culad has taken all my little forts, he’ll now be moving in on my larger and better forts Give him another month and he’ll be besieging my capital – I’ll have naught left”
“That my friend, “ explained Sigtryg patiently, “Is why we only give him a few weeks more. We will take him to battle at the end of the month, by the beginning of April you’ll be safely restored to your home and we’ll be the ones on the attack.”
“You’re playing a finely balanced game here and it’s my holdings as stake”
“Aed, we agreed before that this was the only way, Culad has more men than us, well trained men, even though we can out do him in the peasant stakes we have fewer good soldiers and it’s the steady hearts that will win the battle. In a few more weeks he’ll have lost a handful more men, got a touch more over-confidant, become slightly more reckless, been drawn deeper into land we know better than he. In a few more weeks we can make our play with a fairer hand, and I’ll not be doing otherwise. You’ll be well seen to when I get my dukedom, and that’ll make all even.”
“You’d better Sigtryg, for I’m not happy with this damage Culad’s wreaking”

With a loud clatter the catapult launched its missile into the air, Culad watched it fly until, with a loud splinting crash, it hit one portion of the hill fort’s wooden ramparts. The catapult crew immediately hurried about, winching the arm back down, fasting it securely into place and reloading it with another stone ball. It was now mid March, and Culad had been watching such scenes for over a month now. He was, truth be told, beginning to get bored, but he was sure that boredom wouldn’t last much longer. He turned to his generals, who were also watching the progress of the siege, “Well? You think the breach’ll be large enough soon?” he demanded of Eogan, “Will you infantry be able to do their work?” Eogan nodded curtly, “Aye, mayhap tomorrow afternoon, if not then it’ll be morning the day after.”
“Excellent, be ready to go in as soon as possible.”
“Speaking of as soon as possible…” Donchad didn’t even need to finish his sentence before Culad groaned, “No I’m not going off on a trip home”
“You’re still in need of an heir, for I’ll not be it”
“Donchad, if I’m naming you heir then I’m naming you heir, and you’ll be shutting up and smiling politely while saying thank you”
“And I’m saying if you name me heir then I’m going over to join Sigtryg” The two cousins glared at each other while the other officers looked on uneasily. “Go home Culad.” insisted Donchad, intent on his goal, “Give it a few more years, if you’ve still no son then I’ll be stepping in if you wish – but only in a few years, not now. We’re not going to be wasting our efforts arranging that marriage, and I’ll not stand by while you turn yourself into the laughing stock of Christendom.”
“Fine” snapped Culad, “But I’ll be going alone, for I’ll not be taking men from this battle.”
“Culad-”
“I’ll go alone or not at all, and that’s final” on that note Culad stormed off. The officers began to mutter amongst themselves, Donchad excused himself and left. Checking he was not being followed he met up with Culad near the blacksmith’s area of the camp. “Well?” demanded Culad as quietly as possible, “Did they fall for it?”
“Aye, I’d say we’ll be knowing soon enough if Eogan’s a turncoat or not.”
“Right, then all’s as arranged. I’ll leave tomorrow, alone. Take care of my siege for me.”
“Take care of yourself – we can’t afford to lose you, and I’m not over enthusiastic on this plan.”
“Aye, nor am I, but it seems the only way, for we’ve given our traitor a way to end this all in one go, and with great gain to himself. Let’s just be hoping Margaret really does prefer me alive to dead, or I’m a corpse inside of a day from now.”

[frogbeastegg]

Sweating profusely under the heavy layers of his armour Culad rode homewards, painfully alert and watching for the slightest sign of the man he knew must be following him. He knew Eogan must strike soon or not at all, they had been careful to choose a hill fort to besiege that was within a day’s travel from castle Uliad so Culad could make the trip home in just the one day. Culad made an effort to look relaxed, as if he wasn’t wearing twice as much armour as usual and waiting for someone to kill him, the absurdity of the situation struck him, and with a grin he reached for the canteen hanging from his saddlebow. Without warning something impacted with his left shoulder, flinging him forwards and making his whole left upper body go numb. Thinking quickly Culad wrapped his right fist in his horse’s mane and stayed slumped over the animal’s neck. The horse was startled, and broke into a run, fortunately still headed homewards. From his slumped position Culad sneaked a glance behind him and saw Eogan riding after him on a fast horse, gaining rapidly. Culad let fly a litany of curses and wondering if he should sit up and draw his sword now, or wait a little more and see if the promised help arrived in time. He could feel something running down his back, he hoped it was just sweat but he had the ominous feeling it was blood, and if so things weren’t looking good if he had to fight. Eogan was closer now, too close for comfort. Culad sat up, his whole left side protesting loudly, and drew his sword, steering his horse into a turn so he could charge back at Eogan. Halfway through his turn Culad saw Eogan’s horse flounder and fall, and two men wearing a motley assortment of greens ran out of the tree line towards them, one man flinging away a short bow as he went. His help had finally arrived. Culad slowed his horse, coming to a halt near Eogan, who was trapped under his dying horse. “Why?” demanded Culad, “Why? You were my father’s man”
“You’re unfit to rule, and Ulster’s greatly harmed because of it.” Eogan spat on the ground “Look at you – less than three years as duke and your realm’s split asunder, warring on itself”
“What’ll we do with him, Lordship?” asked one of the two men. Eogan laughed, “Kill me – that’s what you’ll be doing with me I’d be mighty grateful if you’d fish me out from under this horse first though.” The two men looked to Culad for orders, “Fish him out, we’ll take him back with us for trial.” The two men set to work, and Eogan kept talking, “You’re a vengeful man then Culad.”
“No, not vengeful, but not particularly forgiving either.”
“Ah, well you’ll be finding a mite of a problem in your grand plan then, Culad.” Eogan screamed as he was dragged out from under the now dead horse, the reason was obvious – his leg was broken in several places. He spoke through clenched teeth, doing his best to be persuasive, “So you see Culad, I’m not going anywhere, not unless you’re willing to lend me your horse and I’m thinking you’ll be needing that yourself.” feebly Eogan pointed at Culad’s thigh where a red stain was slowly spreading on his trousers, a similar stain was growing on his left sleeve. “I’m thinking that crossbow bolt did some harm, even if you’re still alive.” Culad turned to his rescuers, “Did you bring horses?”
“Nay Lordship, they’d only be making us more obvious. We’re able to keep pace on foot hereabouts.”
“As much as I’d like to keep chatting to you Culad, keep chatting ‘til you bleed to death, I’m hardly having a grand time here and I’d be grateful if you’d get a shift on” Culad hesitated for a moment, before drawing his dagger and tossing it down where Eogan could reach it, “For my father’s sake.” Culad turned again to the two men, “I’m for home before I fall off my horse, wait until he’s done and bring his body back for burial.” Culad kicked his horse and rode off at a walk, trying not to jog his wounds. After a while he turned and looked back, and saw Eogan thrust the dagger into his throat. Feeling dizzy Culad slumped forward onto his horse’s neck again.

Culad’s homecoming caused quite a stir, on seeing their lord bought home slung across a horse with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his back and accompanied by two men, one of whom was carrying the dead deputy commander of Uliad’s infantry people began to gossip, and word began to spread that the duke was dying and all was lost. Culad was rushed up to his room, where the castles surgeon went to work. Once his armour was removed it became obvious the crossbow bolt had done little real harm, only tearing a deep gash under his shoulder blade. The wound had bled profusely because the bolt had not stayed in to block the hole, but had instead been pulled loose by the armour at some point. When the surgeon had finished dressing the wound he told Culad to stay in bed and not move or else, and then left, with orders from Culad to find Margaret and send her in his direction, preferably accompanied by a large pitcher of strong mead. When Margaret arrived she had a pitcher of small beer instead, “You will stop drinking so much, you’re in danger of getting a reputation for being indulgent and you can’t afford that.”
“Thanks kindly for the enquiries after my health.”
“You’re not going to die, and that’s all I care about.” Margaret placed the jug on a chest just out of Culad’s reach, and seated herself on the foot of the bed. Culad sulked, “You really have a talent for making someone feel loved”
“Likewise Culad, likewise.”
“Aye well since you’re not going to ask I’ll just tell you anyway – my entire left side’s one giant bruise, I lost a fair bit of blood, and I’m going to be stuck here for a few days until this shoulder heals up enough to travel without the cut being reopened.” Margaret shrugged her shoulders, “So?”
“So next time will you be coming up with a plan that doesn’t make such a mess out of me? Culad struggled to reach the jug, gave up, and tried to look pitiful, “You could at least pour me a drink.” Margaret rolled her eyes, got up and poured Culad a drink; “You want me to drink it for you? Or can you manage that yourself?” Culad took the cup; somehow he got the feeling he would get his drink tipped over him if he didn’t, “That I can manage, I just thought you’d like to make yourself useful.”
“Useful? I have turned you into a hero, considerably boosting your prestige, and ended a small panic about the end of the world being scheduled for tomorrow.”
“And there was me thinking you’d only been sat about enjoying my agony.”
“Well what do you expect when you fight off a small enemy raiding party with just Eogan for company?”
“They’ll go looking for the bodies.”
“And they will find them, I have arranged a few to be delivered to the site of your little skirmish. Congratulations – you killed 4 men single-handedly, a pity then that Eogan fell in battle at your side.”
“And despite this I don’t get so much as a jot of sympathy from my dear wife.”
“I don’t do sympathy.”
“I’d noticed.” remarked Culad dryly, before remembering something, “I thought you’re supposed to be all diplomatic?”
“I was being diplomatic, if I wasn’t I would have said your whining reminds me of a kicked dog.”
“You know all this has made me think I’d better do something about an heir-” Margaret immediately leapt to her feet and headed quickly towards the door, Culad protested, “No, not like that I meant Donchad Damn it I haven’t lost all sense of taste” Margaret halted halfway across the room, “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“You hardly gave me chance I gave you my word, remember?”
“Call me suspicious if you wish, but I don’t really trust that.”
“Lovely, positively lovely” Culad frowned, “By the way I’m making you my spymaster.”
“It’s about time too. Oh, and you can’t make Donchad your heir.”
“Why not?”
“Because he has no land and no title, and therefore can’t be elected. Go conquer your rebels, husband, and then he can be your heir with their lands.”
“The day I need your advice in military matters is a dark day indeed”
“Charming.” Margaret left, and Culad resumed staring at the ceiling of his room, wondering if he could manage to leave tomorrow, and if not how to avoid seeing his wife again.




Note: small beer, for those who don't know, is a very weak type of beer that most people used to drink instead of water. It is about as alcoholic as tap water, and you'd have to drink gallons of it to get drunk.

[frogbeastegg]

Picture time


This is Ireland in 1066. Right now I own Uliad and nothing else, but I do have claims on my rebeling vassals in Tir Eoghain and Tir Connail. The squarer shaped shields represent dukal seats of power, and the more stereotypical medieval shield shape represents a count. All these counts, with exception to my two, are vassals of the various other dukes.

Now people, you only get to see the portraits and not the other information because that would spoil everything


This um...vaguely ok looking chap is Culad, no he looks nothing like the good looking twerp in the story, but that is because everyone in CK is ugly - Culad is actually outstandingly good looking in comparison to many in his world.


Donchad, aside from his crazy hair and strange facial expression, is vaguely ok looking for a CK character. He reminds me of an evil clown...


Margaret, one of the better looking women I have seen in CK. At least she doesn't have grey hair at the ripe old age of 21

Anyone or anything else you want? It's not worth posing pictures of my realm yet since I only have the one province.

[Monk]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ April 27 2004,10:43)]By pictures do you mean portraits, character screens, maps etc? I'll send a few in to the story hosting, and if Monk thinks it is appropriate to use the space for story illustrations you should see something soon...ish.

Of course, I find that it is most appropriate. It is called the story space afterall. If people want to upload a few pics/portraits/or whatever to help them tell their tale, then i have no problem with that. Although reading the rules people might asume that such a thing isn't permited, though to tell the truth i really don't mind if they use the space for that.

I like the story you tell here lady frog, but i am far from a good critic. All i can ever manage is a nice job or very good... eh, maybe one day i can think of a comment that is longer than two words. Until then, these will have to do

Now i should find my way back to my own work, a world of mispellings and plot holes

Good day

[frogbeastegg]

Of course the rules are in a post I did which you can't alter. If you want anything changing drop me a PM and I will edit my old post.

Sometimes a simple nice job is all you need to hear, thank you Monk. I share your problem with thinking up comments, it must be a requirement of the AM for Mead Hall job

[frogbeastegg]

It was, Aed decided, a glorious morning. While it was still only early in the day the weather was good and promised to remain so for the rest of the day. The weather was the perfect compliment to the day’s activities – pitched battle. It was the 26th of March, and he had finally bought Culad to battle. Now, God willing, he would inflict a devastating defeat on his former lord…with a little help from Sigtryg. Aed was feeling quite confidant, for although he only had just over 200 good soldiers left to fight his peasant recruits numbered more than 400, and that was more than enough to play his part in the plan. Aed surveyed his lines, he had drawn up on a slight slope with his best men in the centre of the shield wall, and the peasant rabble placed on the flanks. Currently his men were sat down with their helmets off and spears and shields set aside, since there was no danger of fighting just yet. The enemy line rippled, after squinting for as few seconds Aed saw that Culad was sending his archers forward to begin the archery duel, “Archers forward” he ordered, and his own lines rippled as the lightly armed men pushed their way to the front and took up position. Aed bellowed his second order, “Shoot when you have good targets – no shooting at extreme range Conserve arrows for when they’ll be doing the most damage”. He could hear the order being repeated and passed along the army. It was time to put his armour on.

Culad was in full armour, but with his helmet off and his shield left slung over his saddle by its straps. He looked about his small council, “Donchad, you take command of the infantry. You’re to move the spearwall into position and charge the foe. Enna, you’ll be commanding the skirmishing as we advance and throughout the actual battle. I don’t need to tell you more than that. Tomas, you’ll be doing what Donchad orders, but if he falls you’re the second in command for the infantry – make sure you stick to our battle plan. Pilib, I’m assigning you control over our new unit of light cavalry, just as we talked of. Remember, everybody the plan is simple enough. We’ll skirmish as much as possible, then advance the infantry in good order to contact. Meanwhile my heavy cavalry, accompanied by our new light cavalry, will charge the enemies left flank, and try to roll it up. If we can do that we’ll be sweeping along the enemy line, and this battles as good as won. Everyone certain of their orders?” The officers all indicated they were, “Right then, to your posts. God protect you all.”

It was nearly an hour since Aed had sent his archers forward, and in that time they had used their slight height advantage to win a slight edge over Culad’s own bowmen. Aed was just about to order his archers to use their hard won advantage and move forward to target Culad’s infantry when a lookout called, “Lordship The enemy are advancing”. Aed lost no time, “Form spearwall Not a single man to break formation – hold your ground regardless of cost”. As the order was passed along the idle infantrymen got to their feet, picked up their shields and spears and took up formation. Aed put his helmet on and laced the chinstraps in place securely, “Order the archers to fall back and support the spearwall.”

From his position on the right flank Culad watched his army advance, in a din of men clattering their weapons on their shields, and shouting war cries at their enemy. Skirmishers ran in front of the main formation, peppering the enemy ranks with javelins, slingshot bullets, and arrows. About 100 yards short of the enemy the formation halted for a space, redressing its ranks, before advancing more rapidly, finally breaking into a charge, yelling a unified war cry as they went – “Duke Culad”. Culad was dumbfounded; Donchad must have arranged that without telling him. The two spearwalls clashed, and from a distance it looked as though the two lines had merged into one. Culad knew this would not be the case, as the very instant the shield wall lost its formation the army crumbled away, defeated. Culad checked his helm was on securely, settled his kite shield onto his arm and raised his lance from the resting position, “Form up.” The standard bearer unfurled Culad’s personal banner – a red hand on a bright yellow background – and moved up close on Culad’s right. The 18 remaining heavy cavalrymen formed up in two ranks, so close to each other that the men were brushing knees. Immediately behind the heavy cavalry the 34 new light cavalrymen formed up into three ranks, but in a slightly looser arrangement. The idea was for the heavy cavalry charge to punch a hole in the enemy line, and for the light cavalry to exploit it. Culad had come up with the plan himself, he would have preferred more heavy cavalry to perform a proper charge, but even this small group of light cavalry was stretching his resources to near breaking point. At Culad’s second order the group of cavalry started to walk forwards, maintaining their formation with practised ease. Culad aimed towards the very end of Aed’s left flank, the most vulnerable part of his enemy’s army. As the distance closed Culad could make out details of the men forming the shield wall – simple peasants ill equipped just as his scouts had reported. As the cavalry reached medium distance from their target the heavy cavalrymen couched their lances, tucking the butt of the lance firmly under their arms and aiming the points down and slightly to the left, the light cavalry drew their swords. Culad was gratified to see panic start to spread through the peasants at this unmistakable signal of a cavalry charge, the peasants started to loose cohesion and the men at the front were trying to edge backwards, to put some other body between themselves and the oncoming lance points. The few experienced men tried to force the peasants back into position, knowing their only chance at surviving this charge was to keep in good order. Culad ordered the unit to begin the trot, advancing faster but not fast enough to tire the horses. The peasant’s officers were losing the battle to make their men stand and fight, struggling to make themselves heard over the growing thunder of hooves and jangle of armour. Culad was now close enough to see the faces of his foe clearly; it was time to charge properly. He gave the order, and dug his spurs into the flanks of his horse; the stallion immediately sprang forward into full gallop, followed by the rest of the unit still in tight formation. It took just seconds to cover the remaining ground, Culad’s lance slammed into the shield of the man unfortunate enough to be in front of him. The force of impact knocked the man off his feet, under the flying hooves of the horses, and sent Culad reeling back in his saddle as he let go of his now shattered lance. Swiftly he drew his sword and started hacking and slashing at any targets that presented themselves as his horse slowly lost room to keep going forwards. The scared peasants soon lost all will to stand and started to run for their lives. Culad let them go, there was no time to waste pursuing routing peasants while the main battle still raged. He turned to find his standard bearer still at his right, and rapidly gave his new orders, “Regroup the units, and form up for a new…” Culad trailed off, for there behind his army was a second, a long way off in the distance but closing rapidly to encircle his entire force. Sigtryg had arrived.



From this point on the org copy of this story will be ahead of the Paradox verison, asince it has been suggested I am posting new parts too quickly. Since people here seem to be able to read as fast as I post I won't atificially slow this version down. Paradox get one chapter a day, theorg will get whatever I have writen and want to post.

As ever I'm not that happy with this battle, once they get fighting it isn't so bad but the parts without brains spattering on armour are very dry, repetitive and dull.

[frogbeastegg]

In the middle of Culad’s spearwall Donchad was fighting for his life, the press of men was so great that some of the dead were still on their feet, unable to fall to the ground. An axe splintered the top of his shield, blinding him with splinters and knocking him backwards into the men behind him. Blindly Donchad lunged his sword forward, and was rewarded with a grunt as he hit someone. Blinking Donchad shook his head to clear his vision and saw his attacker crumpling to the ground, trying to hold his stomach in place with one hand. Donchad stepped forward, batting a spear point out of the way with his tattered shield and thrusting his sword tip at a pair of eyes visible over a shield rim. The target managed to ward off his attack, ducking behind his shield, only to fall at the hands of Donchad’s neighbour. Where was Culad and his damn cavalry?

“There is only one chance left for victory, or even survival.” thought Culad, ”And that’s to behead this army and rout it, and hope my spearwall has enough time left to turn about and make a stand.” “Form up the cavalry, we’re going after Aed and his personal guard.” The standard bearer saluted and shouted the order, and the cavalry quickly began to regroup. Culad set off as soon as the formation was slightly recognisable, leaving it to his men to neaten the ranks as they went. This time the cavalry didn’t walk to engage, they moved at a rapid trot, conscious of the lack of time. Moving parallel to the back of Aed’s army Culad could see that his own left flank was forcing Aed’s right back. That, combined with the routed right flank, put Aed’s centre in a precarious position. After what felt like an eternity Culad’s cavalry were in position behind Aed’s centre and began to charge. Somehow, even above the dim of the melee, someone heard the pounding hooves of the horses and shouted an alert and the men at the rear of Aed’s spearwall started to turn and present their spears onto a hedge of points. Unfortunately for them they were too slow, and Culad’s cavalry hit them half way through the manoeuvre. The charge was less effective this time, as no one had a lance and the cavalry were up against proper soldiers now, but all the same the enemy began to crumple. Under pressure from two sides Aed’s men slowly began at look for ways to flee. Culad kept hacking away at any targets that presented themselves, encouraging the rout and slowly working his way towards his own lines. As he fought Culad searched frantically for Donchad’s personal banner, finally he spotted it and changed course to it. As soon as he was in shouting range he started calling for his cousin, “Donchad? Donchad, where in the seven hells are you?” A battered man in armour waved his badly mangled shield to attract Culad’s attention, “It’s not like you to be so eager to find me when victory’s assured cousin, you must be anxious to get on with the drinking”
“Damn it you fool there’s another army behind us Get the men turned round and formed up again”
The distance was too great for Culad to see the horrified shock on Donchad’s face, or to hear the quick order he gave to turn the army about. All Culad heard was the delayed reply, “What if Aed’s lot regroup? They’ll be right in our rear”
“I’ll be seeing to them with my cavalry, I’ll be back in support if I can.” Culad turned his horse and joined his men in harrying the routing army, chasing and cutting down any man within reach to make sure they didn’t gather enough heart to return to the battle.

Donchad paused for a moment to catch his breath, throwing away his next to useless shield and casting about for a battle-axe he could take from a fallen man. He’d ordered his men to about face, so the exhausted front line would be bringing up the new rear while the still fresh men at the back would head up this fight. The heavy infantry, and his own guard, would have to fight again in the front to keep morale high. It was on days like this Donchad wished he had become a priest.




Yes it's short, but it's a battle and hard to write. To be continued in part 3...

Also patch 1.2 for CK is out, and it has a 50/50 chance of ruining your save game. Thankfully even if my save doesn't work I have enough material to provide a good ending to this, I played until Culad's death whenever and however that happened.

[Axeknight]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 01 2004,22:47)]It was on days like this Donchad wished he had become a priest.

Spare a thought for the poor guy - he has to deal with Culad's 'heir problem' afterwards

GAH Cannot... Escape... Must... Comment... On every... Episode...

[frogbeastegg]

Sigtryg’s army was advancing at the double, racing to reach Culad’s force before it could complete its turn and draw up into good formation. It was a test of training, turning an army was no easy task, but neither was advancing at a jog without your army breaking up and wearing your men out. Sigtryg was leading by example, jogging along in full armour, his mail hauberk slapping against his legs as he ran just fast enough to stay a pace ahead of everybody else. This was the make or break moment of his plan, if he could break Culad’s army now there would be nothing left to protect Uliad from being besieged, and even without Aed to occupy one half of Ulaid’s levy Sigtryg was confidant his superior leadership and fresher troops could swing the balance in his favour.

All around Donchad was chaos, officers bellowing at their men to get in place, wounded being dragged out of the way, and new weapons being distributed as best as possible from the reserves. From his position in the centre of the new front he could see Sigtryg, closing too fast for Donchad’s liking. Looking sideways at his army Donchad hazarded that they would be in formation just in time to meet Sigtryg, but the formation would be ragged and the men too tired to fight for long. It was a perilous position, and the battle could swing either way. If Culad’s cavalry made it back soon then it’d be a victory, if Aed’s army made it back then it’d be a defeat, and Donchad wasn’t happy with waiting to see what hit him in the back. He needed to buy a bit of time, just enough time for his men to rest and form up, and he needed to disable Sigtryg and his famous cunning. Further along the line Donchad could hear someone reciting the ballad of Finn MacCool’s duel with Aillen of the Flaming Breath to pass the time, and that gave him an idea…

Sigtryg held up his hand and called a halt, gratefully his army slowed to a stop, the less fit men gasping for breath to the scorn of their better-conditioned comrades. So it was too late to take advantage of the real chaos, but no matter, Sigtryg knew he still had the slight advantage here, and it wouldn’t take too much to exploit that. He was surprised when a lone man stepped out of the enemy lines and hailed him, “Sigtryg A word if you’re not minding?” Sigtryg smiled inwardly, delay tactics from a frightened enemy. He answered the hail, “If you want then, Donchad of Uliad, but make it quick for we’ve not got all day to kill you.”
“I was thinking, it’s been a grand day and it’ll be a legend sure enough, but how if we were to make it more legendary? Wouldn’t you like to tell your grandchildren of how you won the greatest victory since ancient times?”
“What are you on about man? All I need is Culad’s head and I’ll have my legend.”
“Let’s be having a duel, you and I. Not to the death, just to first blood. A bit of embellishment to be passing on to the next generations, I’d rather be going out a blaze of glory, and you’d be all the more grand and heroic like.” Sigtryg smiled cynically, so that was the plan, and not such a good one. “I’m thinking I’ll not be doing that, Donchad of Uliad. I’ve got you where I need you and a duel’d be a waste of time.”
“So it’s true what I hear then? Sigtryg the coward? A man who’ll scheme and plot away, making free with other’s lives but holding his own safe always.”
“Petty taunts, Donchad? A child could do better” Sigtryg was rather touchy about his reputation; he knew it was wisdom to avoid fights where he had little to gain and his most important resource – his life – to lose. Sadly not many saw the world in such sensible terms, and Sigtryg could hear a current of sullen muttering run through his army. Donchad heard it also, and intensified his efforts, “First blood is all, a mere scratch so you’ll not be needing to worry about dying.” The muttering in Sigtryg’s army intensified, and he could feel his hand being forced. Quickly Sigtryg weighed up his chances, Donchad was tired and maybe wounded already, he had no shield and was limited to axe and sword, while he may be famously valorous that meant he should be easy to manipulate in combat. With a spear Sigtryg could gain the advantage of range, and he was in better condition overall to face a fight. With a little strategy this should be possible, “Alright then Donchad of Uliad, you’ll have your duel. My rules – we’ll both use exactly what equipment we have now, no borrowing form others. We’ll be fighting immediately, so no wasting of time if that’s your big plan. First blood sounds like a game for children, so I’d be suggesting until one of us can fight no more.”
“Done, we’ll be fighting in the open space between our armies then, no trickery.” As he spoke Donchad left his place in his army and moved towards the no man’s land. After a slight pause to watch how his opponent moved, to check for obvious wounds, Sigtryg did likewise.

The two combatants started to circle, slowly, and looking for an opening. Sigtryg balanced his spear in an over arm grip, crouching behind his round shield for maximum protection, always working to keep Donchad just in range of his spear. Experimentally Donchad swung his axe in a downward arc towards Sigtryg, stepping forward to get in range. Swiftly Sigtryg leapt to one side, dodging rather than trying to block. Both men resumed their wary circling. Sigtryg let Donchad take the aggressive stance, skipping and dodging out of each and every attack, and seldom making a counter attack, and wearing the already tired man out. After a few minutes of this Donchad was weary enough to begin to make mistakes, and over balanced on a downward cut. Sigtryg dodged to one side, as he had been doing before, but this time he punched out with his shield, catching Donchad’s hands and knocking his battleaxe flying. Frantically Donchad back-pedalled, dodging away from Sigtryg’s spear as he struggled to draw his sword left handed, as the shield had broken his right forearm. Sigtryg pressed his advantage, aiming a never-ending flurry of stabs at the retreating, nearly defenceless figure. Sigtryg’s army started to cheer their leader on, certain of victory. Finally Donchad managed to draw his sword, and awkwardly started to parry the spear, trying to cut through the wooden staff below the iron head. Sigtryg jumped back, putting a few extra paces between himself and Donchad, before throwing his spear. Donchad ducked, the spear barely missed him, but before he could recover Sigtryg was on him – literally. Not bothering to draw his sword Sigtryg had instead taken advantage of his opponent’s distraction to drop his own shield, and leap on him and wrap both hands about Donchad’s left arm, wrestling to twist the sword out of his grip. The two men struggled, Donchad was the stronger but now he was only able to use one arm in the struggle, and his left arm was slowly being twisted backwards by Sigtryg’s two-handed grip. Suddenly Donchad’s arm gave way, and he twisted hid body to use Sigtryg’s momentum to throw him to the ground, Sigtryg immediately rolled to one side and regained his feet, but Donchad moved surprisingly quickly and picked up one of the discarded swords. All Sigtryg had left was his dagger, and that would be little help. Donchad hesitated for a second, before speaking, “Go, get a sword before I change my mind. I’ll not have it said I killed a defenceless man.” Sigtryg grabbed the other sword, warily watching Donchad for any trickery. Again the two men started circling each other. Donchad suddenly launched a blow aimed at Sigtryg’s head with all his strength, unable to dodge this time Sigtryg flung his own blade up to block and the two swords clashed. Sigtryg’s blade shattered, and Donchad’s sword continued until it hit Sigtryg’s helm with sufficient force to cleave through the metal. Sigtryg wavered and dropped to the ground, unconscious rather than dead, as the blade had barely nicked his scalp. Exhausted Donchad collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

As Culad’s levy exploded into cheers and clapping a handful of men came out from Sigtryg’s force to collect their leader. Even above the din of Culad’s army Donchad heard the shout, “Cavalry Retreat”. Sigtryg’s demoralised and leaderless army began to withdraw. Culad’s cavalry had arrived.





Poor Sigtryg, he has fantastic stats and is a great general, but he has the coward trait. it's a cute little picture of a chicken. Donchad, on the other hand, has the valorous trait, and that is an ugly arm with a sword.

Axeknight I agree, you do have to pity poor Donchad, even more when you know parts of his future. Well that's the way the cookie crumbles, and only half his problems are my invention. Well I suppose he does get a lot of good too...

Since you are compelled to comment each time I think I had better make you an unofficial froggy critic, here you go :gives Axeknight a badge in the shape of a frog:

[frogbeastegg]

The evening of the battle Culad held a great victory celebration for his army in one of the hill forts they had captured less than two miles away from the battlefield. The officers and richest soldiers were crammed into the great hall, while the common soldiers crowded about great fire pits with assorted meats roasting on spits. Alcohol flowed freely, and Culad was trying not to think about how much all this was costing as he sat at the head of the high table in the great hall. A beautiful red haired woman smiled shyly at Culad, before turning and walking away, being careful to sway her hips. Culad stared after her, “Who’s that? She’s been placing herself in my eye for days now.” he asked. Donchad spoke up, “That would be Mor, daughter of one of your knights.”
“Oh. Too expensive then.” said Culad morosely. Donchad slapped him on the back; “Sounds to me like you’re losing your touch Culad”
“Well think it through a bit Donchad – I’d have to be giving her some kind of fancy gift, and her father wouldn’t be best pleased so I’d have to bribe him with lands or something, since I can’t be doing with revolting knights as well as rebelling vassals.”
“So you tell her your company’s a gift, since she’s practically throwing herself at you that’ll probably work. Then you just promote her father to one of the positions now left empty by a dead man. Simple, neat and tidy – you used to think all this up by yourself.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Blimey Now that’d be a real first” Donchad looked at his cousin, trying to keep a serious face, “That wife of yours didn’t do something drastic with a knife?”
“No Good grief – no I’m just not interested in being a title tonight, since she’s looking for the duke, and I do suspect it’s on orders from an ambitious parent with an eye to gathering a bribe or two. And anyway her hair’s too red.”
“Too red? Your wife has hair that is ‘too dark’ and this one is ’too red’ – what kind of colour are you looking for man? Pink? You never complained about red before, or black for that matter. I’m thinking we’ll be renaming you to Culad the Chaste before the year’s out.” Mor reappeared carrying a flagon of fine red wine, which she brought up to the high table, “Would your Lordship like another drink?” Culad put his goblet down on the table with a small thud, “Are you an angel?” he demanded. Mor smiled,“Your Lordship does me honour to compare me to such a celestial beauty.”
“No, I was meaning that you’re popping up each and every time I turn my head like some angel with a message that it can’t quite manage to deliver” Mor froze for a split second, before trying to save the situation, “Well…it’s kind of your Lordship to notice me at all.”
“Aye, perhaps, but seeing how I do doubt your angelic status very much I’d rather not be bumping into you each time I turn around.”
“Lordship…?”
“And you can be telling your father that I promote on worth, not on compensation payouts for a night or two with a precious daughter Now shoo” Blushing furiously Mor left, and went to talk to a man at the far end of one of the lower tables; it looked like they were arguing. Culad watched as the man pointed vigorously in his direction and shouted something, before pushing Mor back towards the high table. Culad sighed, “She’ll be back, and he’ll not be giving up on his plan then.”
“Well she might have been sent after someone different this time…I think I could find space for him in my infantry guard – I could use a new man to stand in the missile fire and absorb the arrows for me.”
“Donchad, you have the ethics of a Norman.”
“There’s no need to be so insulting, I was merely pointing out how I could use the situation to the advantage of all, no more. She and I get a bit of fun, dear daddy gets his new job, and you get some peace. Now speaking of peace…”
“I can tell what you’re going to say, and I was in fact thinking of going home tomorrow. I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“So you’ve finally worked that out, then?”
“Oh aye, I think I’ve got something to take care of that’s best not left for too long.” Of course Culad was thinking of something very different to the heir Donchad was meaning.

A couple of days later Culad arrived back in castle Uliad in the early evening. Within an hour of his arrival he was talking with his wife in their private rooms, trying to put his plan into action. Margaret was having difficulty believing her ears, “You want me to let it be known I will have any girl who is even rumoured to be your lover killed?” she asked incredulously. Culad looked uncomfortable, “Well not quite so, more any girl and her scheming relatives who sent her off after me in the first place, and not just the rumoured ones but also the ones I might be trying to keep secret but your many spies will be reporting about. Um, maybe if you could go so far as any girl who I kiss, look at in a remotely interested way, get looked at in a remotely interested way by, or am rumoured to have done anything of a even slightly carnal nature with…aye, if you could threaten to kill all those that’d be grand.” Margaret stared at Culad as if he had gone mad, “Why on earth would I do that? As long as you are at arms length from me I don’t care what you do in that regard.”
“Um, well you see…I do care – er, not that I’m saying anything daft and you and me No, not at all More that I’m sick of being chased by women, it’s boring and I can’t be standing the expense anyway. There’s no challenge in a line of people flinging themselves at you.”
“If I let it be known I will kill anyone who goes near you you’ll have a mite too much challenge finding someone suicidal enough”
“Well perhaps there’s one who’s caught my eye, and wouldn’t be put off by these death threats.”
“Then I would have to kill her – I can’t go about making threats and not keep them.”
“Somehow I think you’d not want to kill this one, although I might be interested to see you try.” Margaret eyed Culad suspiciously, “And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Culad presented a perfect picture of happy innocence; Margaret kept studying him, saying nothing. Culad continued from where he’d left off, hoping to divert her attention before he looked guilty, “Well, you see it’s well known that you’re the suspicious type, although I can’t imagine why people are getting that impression” Culad grinned at Margaret, who was still the very essence of suspicion, “And if you’d also be the jealous type that’d sort this little problem for me.”
“And what would I get in return? Being known as a suspicious, jealous, murderer of a wife isn’t the kind of accolade I look for in life.”
“Well…it’d be an off-putting reputation for any potential husbands you might end up being chased by in the future – generally even the desperate hunchbacked, lisping, club footed 60 year old men don’t want a wife like that for fear it might cramp their life a bit.”
“I suppose that could be advantageous in the event of you doing something inconvenient, like dying. Although I can’t say I like the idea – the only difference between those girls you asking me to murder and myself is that I at least got a church ceremony out of someone deciding it was a good idea to throw me at you.”
“Now just be thinking of how grateful you are for the results of that ceremony, and you’ll maybe be finding your opinion changes.”
“You’re right – killing them is a mercy The relatives, that is. I think the girls can disappear into convents.”
“Good enough for me, thanks. Those girls who chase me of their own accord can go to the convents too, but we’ll be leaving their families alive.”
“You know I’ve a funny feeling this idea will depopulate half of Ulster.” remarked Margaret, a hint of a smile on her lips. Culad laughed, “Now if only everyone else was as immune to my charm and good looks as you”
“Men.” said Margaret in that age old tone always used to lament the stupidity of half a species, “Now you can go bother the suicide case who has caught your eye, I have better things to do than stand here wasting my time with you.”
“As you wish.” Culad planted a quick kiss on Margaret’s forehead and shot out the door before she could say anything.

The next morning Culad held an audience in his great hall for any issues that people may have for their duke’s attention. “Lordship, Your Honour, um…Sire, it pleases me immensely to show you my great discovery.” A nervous peasant was stood before the dais, twiddling his cap in his hands nervously. Next to him was a box with a blanket thrown over it, which the peasant guarded jealously against all who came near it. Up on the dais Culad and Margaret exchanged a look. Culad gestured to the peasant to continue, and so he did. “Well I was told to be bringing it here to show Your Greatness, aye and you too Ladyship, begin’ your pardon of course…aye, well it’s my firm belief this discovery of mine’ll increase our income by a good margin, and put us ahead of all others in this area of expertise.” the peasant paused, wringing his cap between his hands, “Well, um, with your permission I’ll be showing you now then.” Culad nodded, and the peasant pulled the cloth off the box, revealing a cage with a chicken in it. The audience chamber went silent. Finally Margaret spoke, “You have invented the chicken?” The peasant beamed and nodded vigorously, “Aye, Ladyship, it’s the latest thing.”
“We already have chickens, in fact we’ve had them for hundreds of years” said Culad, trying not to spoil his dignity by laughing until he fell off his throne. The peasant looked insulted, “I’m knowing that Er, begin’ your Lordship’s pardon, of course and no insult intended It’s just that this chicken’s different to all the others, and that’s the big gold mine.” Margaret saw Culad had jammed the knuckle of his right index finger into his mouth, and was biting it in a frantic effort to maintain control. Hoping the peasant couldn’t see the same thing from where he was stood, Margaret filled the gap, “Well what’s so different about this…chicken?”
“It’s the eggs, Ladyship. You see they’re this lovely pastel colour of blue or green, and not egg coloured like normal eggs. Can be selling them for a great sum, for those fancy folks that want pretty coloured eggs.” A strange snorting noise came from Culad as he nearly lost his battle, and Margaret’s face was twitching slightly. Quickly, before it was too late she spoke, “Great work, Mr. Peasant. Go and do whatever needs to be done to use your…invention to the full. Now it’s getting late in the morning and my husband and I will retire now for a light lunch. The audiences will resume in an hour.”. Before anyone could comment Margaret and Culad swept out of the hall, and almost ran back to their own rooms. As soon as the door shut they both collapsed, laughing hysterically. “Sire I’ve invented the Chicken” mimicked Culad, Margaret wiped a tear from her eye, “And to think before I came here I thought Ireland was a backward land without basic technology Now we have the chicken nothing will stop us”
“Don’t be mocking our great people.” chided Culad, “We can do grand things with that chicken. I’m thinking of am army of them, to march on our foe and peck them to death and pelt them with pretty pastel coloured eggs.”
“That would make you Chief Chicken, of the great army of Chicken. Perhaps we could rename Uliad to Chicken Land?”
“And you’d be Lady Chicken, and the poets would never shut up about your outstanding beauty – not that they ever shut up about it now.”
“No poet who wants to get paid would ever repeat your verdict. Songs about famous ladies who are too tall, too dark and too miserable don’t go down terribly well.”
“Well perhaps the poets have more sense than the fool who said that.”
“Is that an apology, or a change of heart?”
“Both.”
“Culad, you have a suicide case to bother, not me.”
“Suicide case? Oh. Aye, I suppose I do.”
“Ah, from that am I to take it that she had more interest in life than you thought and turned you down?”
“I suppose…that would be right.”







Yes, this part was done very quickly. That is because I was writing this every time I got stuck on the battle, now there's a sick idea - writing vaguely romantic mush for light relief

There are a few game related noted needed for this one. Firstly yes, you can invent the chicken. The animal husbandry researching events are unfortunately named, so you will invent the chicken, cow, goat, sheep and pig as the years roll by...makes you wonder where all these new animals came from.

Secondly Mor is not a side effect of the pretty wench catches your eye event that happens frequently to characters with the lust trait - if it were Culad would find his life long interest in red heads and upset fathers still intact because that would give me a guaranteed bastard son who could act as heir in desperate circumstances. Funny that, all bastards are male and they always appear the instant you choose the give in to the passion response. Normal children appear after a 9 month pregnancy, bastards appear as soon as you meet the mother

I would offer a cookie to whoever can figure out who Culad's 'suicide case' is, but that is way too easy Instead I will give a cookie to anyone who can explain, in full, this: “Men.” said Margaret in that age old tone always used to lament the stupidity of half a species. That should prove some slight challenge...

[Axeknight]

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 02 2004,17:55)]“Men.” said Margaret in that age old tone always used to lament the stupidity of half a species,

Now wait just a minute there...

I like the badge, though.

[frogbeastegg]

A few more pictures.


Aed Sigtryg Nuala

This resembles a gallery of big noses and strange facial expressions Now maybe you begin to understand why Culad and Margaret are both classed as good looking, believe it or not there are many who are even worse than Aed out there...

Axeknight if you have never heard Men. said like that before then you are either exceptionally lucky, or have been living in a monastery. That would be the exact counterpart of the 'bunch of men exchanging a meaningful look and declaring Women.'. Of course the challenge is always to work out why that this said, men tend to be rather blind to what provokes the Men. comment, and probably likewise...although I suspect it has something to do with fussing about how you look.

So I suspect I will be eating that cookie myself