Prologue
It was a dark November night on the Frisian Islands and Godfric entered the ‘Wagon and Horses’ Bardic Circle. Through the dark light he could see the Chieftain of his village, Freiwine and his closest friends listening closely to the Bard weaving tales of glory and honour. Other, lesser men sat around a large table drinking and dining, he could see his sister, Hilda, a maid of the Bardic Circle was serving the Chieftain’s brother, Geltung. Geltung was a hero; he had seen many battles, killed many foes and endured many wounds. His scar-ridden face was obviously drunk. Suddenly he grabbed Hilda and tried to punch her. Godfric was infuriated. He grabbed his broadsword and walked over to Geltung, fuming with rage. “Mess with my sister, you mess with me!” Godfric bellowed, Geltung span round to face him, draw a vicious notched dagger and lunged at him. Silence spread round the room like a wave of shock. Gasps went round like shots of an arrow. Sword blow after sword blow swung and were parried by Godfric. He struck. A sword blow pierced Geltung in the thigh. He fell. Freiwine walked over slowly and punched Godfric with one massive fist and he fell like a stone.
Chapter 1
Godfric awoke. It was dawn, he was in Freiwine’s hut. Freiwine walked over to him, “I would like to talk to you. I was impressed last night by you, my brother only has a flesh wound and I can understand your anger.” He spoke, quietly but with a booming voice. “So you won’t kill me?” Godfric asked. “In the name of God, no, Quite the opposite in fact. I wanted to ask you if you would like to join my Hearth Troop band.” Freiwine asked. “You are having me on!” Godfric shouted in a mixture of joy and disbelief. “No I am not, there are 2000 able-bodied men on this island and my Hearth Troops number 160, and you would be an excellent addition.” Freiwine replied. “I have nothing except a small field and a hut, I would love to.” Godfric responded. “Report to the Hundredmen’s hall tomorrow at dawn.” Freiwine ordered.
The next day Godfric walked the half-mile across the Island to the Hundredmen’s hall. There were 15 other men stood in front of a straw mattress each, Godfric took the one at the end. A huge 7 foot tall man marched in. “RIGHT YOU WINE-SIPPING TOGA-WEARING SONS OF BITCHES!” He screamed every time he opened his mouth. “I am Eutlinde! It is my job to turn you Romans into lean, mean Frank-killing machines! You may have had 2 days training as levies, you may even have fought a battle but for the next month, you are mine! This is the itinerary for the next 4 weeks! Week 1, fighting in formation! Shieldwalls, Wedges, Advancing, fighting cavalry! Week 2! Survival! Foraging and a 5 day field trip on the mainland! Weeks 3 and 4! You will receive your equipment and choose between a sword or an axe! There are 8 of each so you can fight over who gets what!” The next day the recruits received their chainmail armour, their helmets and a shield each. The equipment was brand new from the smithy. They spent the next week perfecting the shield wall, wedge and many other drills. The 8th day they boarded a longship and sailed off the Island for the 1st time in Godfric’s life. “You have had 2 days training in living off the land! You must survive here for 5 days here! Meet me here 5 days from now!” The trainees built a camp with view of the landing point, they took turns to cook, forage and stand guard. They built 1 large shelter out of branches with a sleeping area and a cooking area. After 5 days of living off Squirrel and Rabbit the boat returned. “Against all odds, all of you have survived! Board the boat!” Eutlinde bellowed from the boat. They returned to the mainland and resumed the training. The next day they chose their new weapons, Godfric chose a long, vicious axe. The final fortnight was spent stabbing straw bags and lobbing blunted throwing spears at each other. After training finished, Godfric painted his shield in an abstract circle pattern in orange and white. He visited Freiwine “Ah! Godfric! You made it! Now, my Hearth Troops have been asked to join a Saxon army in a war against the Allemanni. We are leaving tomorrow.” Freiwine informed him.
Chapter 2
They marched through the Germanic forests in late spring, along the way Saxon Spearmen, Hunters, Keel, Axemen and Cavalry joined the warhost. The column was headed by Freiwine himself, followed by his Hearth Troops. After a week marching, they found the enemy. They formed in a Shield wall ½ a mile long. The Hearth Troops were flanked by Keel and Chosen Axemen, clearly, the Allemanni would hit hardest at them. 1 hour later, the Allemanni lined up, fringing a dark Pine forest chanting in a brutal barbarian tongue. The Saxons started shouting into their shields for extra bass and noise, A line of Hunters behind them started to loose pitch arrows into the forest. The fire arrows looked like God himself’s spit in the wind. The Lombardi archers on their side fired back, the main line crouched behind their shields, but the Hunters couldn’t hide, the bowman behind Godfric was hit square in the throat and sprayed the line in blood as he fell over, screaming. The Allemanni had a pile of wood, soaked in flammable Paraffin on which they intended to burn the Saxon corpses, a fire arrow hit this bonfire and set it alight. A colossal explosion ripped the lines of Lombardi archers. Burning oil soaked the archers and the trees, setting them all alight, a cheer like a volcano erupted from the Saxon lines. The Allemanni infantry started to charge at the Saxons. When the enemy was just 30 feet away, the Hearth troops all hurled a throwing-spear into them, the front rank collapsed, hit by the spears. The enemy hit home and the meat-grinder of battle started, he hit an enemy square on the head with his axe, behind this man was an enemy chieftain, he took his guard, the chief dodged or parried the first 3 strikes, but the fourth cleanly decapitated the chief, he didn’t see it coming. Dismayed by this, the Allemanni turned and melted into the forest like butter into a frying pan. Freiwine stepped out in front of the battle-bloodied line and bellowed “Englisc Victori!” The Saxons had started calling themselves the ‘Englisc’, Saxon being what the Celts and Romans called them. Did they know, in the 7th Century AD they would find a new homeland and give it a very similar name?
Chapter 3
1 year later.
Godfric, after slaying the chieftain, was promoted to a tribal elder. Freiwine had called an urgent meeting to decide whether or not to migrate to this big wonderful new island called ‘Britannia’. Whereas everyone could attend, only the elders could speak. “What is ‘Britannia’ like?” asked Richsberg, the smithy who had forged Godfric’s wargear. “It is of a similar clime…” Freiwine answered but someone shouted “You mean it pisses down with rain everyday and it’s foggy when it isn’t pissing it down!?” “Let me finish, the soil is better, there is more space and more fish.” Freiwine responded. “Is anyone living there at the moment?” Godfric asked. “Yes, there are Celts but if you leave them for long enough; they get bored and kill each other.” Freiwine answered. “Beating them won’t be hard, even their women have 2 foot long orange beards!” Geltung shouted and the whole circle roared with laughter. The open meeting decided to join the Angles, Jutes and other Frisians in moving en mass to Britannia. They hit land at a wide estuary, a Saxon village called Hull, so named because they moved all their building materials in the ‘hull’ of the ship. “Let’s sail down the river!” Godfric shouted. “Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Replied Freiwine happily. After 50 miles they came to a shallow bend with a wooden bridge. “That’s the west of the Bridge ford so that’s West Bridgeford and that’d the east of the Bridge ford so that’s East Bridgeford.” Geltung suggested. 5 miles further down, they stopped. “This looks nice!” Exclaimed Freiwine, pleased it had paid off. “I know, let’s call it Nottingham because it’s ‘not’ theirs anymore!” Godfric shouted. Laughter went round and they pulled over the ship. They unloaded wood and small tents for temporary shelter while they rebuilt the village; boats would dismantle the old buildings and ship them over for re-assembly.
Chapter 4
Next morning, they awoke to the site of a Celtic warhost mustering on a hill 2 miles away. “Oh crap, let’s go and meet the neighbours!” Freiwine said clearly but quietly. They grabbed weapons and armour, and then formed a shield wall. “Where did they come from, the frontier is 40 miles east of here!” Geltung roared, with a hangover from last night but looking forward to a punch-up. They could see light chariots lining up for the charge. The chariots started rolling down the hill towards them, the noise of wheels turning loud and intimidating. The chariots stopped to start firing javelins. The Hunters behind them loosed off a volley of vicious fire arrows; several chariots were hit and caught fire, the crew instinctively jumped out of the chariots. The battle-buggies charged at the shield wall, Eutlinde’s guarantee that javelins stop a cavalry charge easily had better be true. They hurled spears into them and broke up the charge, the horses started running away. On the hill they saw sight to terrify any sane man. Gallowglasses. These were elite Celtic warriors, armed with a huge 2 handed sword. They ran down the hill at them like men possessed. Even a massed volley of arrows didn’t stop them, nor did the javelins of the Hearth troops. The clash of battle lines came and Godfric was drawn into a melee with the Celts. His axe blows were dodged and parried, no side made any gain until behind the Celts, he could see cavalry with a banner emblazoned with a Stag, a Saxon banner. The horsemen charged into the rear of the Gallowglasses, they tried to run but they couldn’t. All of them were trampled under the cavalry or hit in the back by Saxon axes.
Chapter 5
3 years later
Godfric awoke. His sister Hilda ran in, “Freiwine! Freiwine has been murdered by Geltung and he has proclaimed himself chieftain!” She screamed, shocked and upset. “I’ve beat him once, I can beat him again.” Godfric pointed out confidently. He donned his Chainmail and Shield, and then picked up his axe. He remembered that in a battle against the Franks, he took a Fransica throwing axe as a trophy; he tucked it in his belt. He found Geltung sitting in the chieftain’s seat in the Wagon and Horses. Godfric had a sense of déjà vu. He drew his axe and walked over to Geltung, Geltung drew his sword and swung a wild blow, Godfric parried it, and he stabbed with his axe and grazed his shoulder. Geltung backed down but Godfric drew a throwing-axe and threw it with deadly accuracy into his chest. Geltung didn’t know what hit him and he died instantly, pouring blood over the shocked drinkers. “This man murdered your chief, I will take the post until a permanent chief can be found, from now on, chiefs will be elected by the council of elders, anyone can be chief.” Godfric announced solemnly.
But I won't go to England due to the prescence of scruffy in shottingham. - Scenter102
This is Scruff we are talking about. I can't think of anything I don't see Scruff doing just for the hell of it. - Agrippa 271
The cake was made by Scruffy and it was... a rude shape. - Liam
monkey in a suit on a cycle - Scenter102 describing Scruffy
It was a dark November night on the Frisian Islands and Godfric entered the ‘Wagon and Horses’ Bardic Circle. Through the dark light he could see the Chieftain of his village, Freiwine and his closest friends listening closely to the Bard weaving tales of glory and honour. Other, lesser men sat around a large table drinking and dining, he could see his sister, Hilda, a maid of the Bardic Circle was serving the Chieftain’s brother, Geltung. Geltung was a hero; he had seen many battles, killed many foes and endured many wounds. His scar-ridden face was obviously drunk. Suddenly he grabbed Hilda and tried to punch her. Godfric was infuriated. He grabbed his broadsword and walked over to Geltung, fuming with rage. “Mess with my sister, you mess with me!” Godfric bellowed, Geltung span round to face him, draw a vicious notched dagger and lunged at him. Silence spread round the room like a wave of shock. Gasps went round like shots of an arrow. Sword blow after sword blow swung and were parried by Godfric. He struck. A sword blow pierced Geltung in the thigh. He fell. Freiwine walked over slowly and punched Godfric with one massive fist and he fell like a stone.
Chapter 1
Godfric awoke. It was dawn, he was in Freiwine’s hut. Freiwine walked over to him, “I would like to talk to you. I was impressed last night by you, my brother only has a flesh wound and I can understand your anger.” He spoke, quietly but with a booming voice. “So you won’t kill me?” Godfric asked. “In the name of God, no, Quite the opposite in fact. I wanted to ask you if you would like to join my Hearth Troop band.” Freiwine asked. “You are having me on!” Godfric shouted in a mixture of joy and disbelief. “No I am not, there are 2000 able-bodied men on this island and my Hearth Troops number 160, and you would be an excellent addition.” Freiwine replied. “I have nothing except a small field and a hut, I would love to.” Godfric responded. “Report to the Hundredmen’s hall tomorrow at dawn.” Freiwine ordered.
The next day Godfric walked the half-mile across the Island to the Hundredmen’s hall. There were 15 other men stood in front of a straw mattress each, Godfric took the one at the end. A huge 7 foot tall man marched in. “RIGHT YOU WINE-SIPPING TOGA-WEARING SONS OF BITCHES!” He screamed every time he opened his mouth. “I am Eutlinde! It is my job to turn you Romans into lean, mean Frank-killing machines! You may have had 2 days training as levies, you may even have fought a battle but for the next month, you are mine! This is the itinerary for the next 4 weeks! Week 1, fighting in formation! Shieldwalls, Wedges, Advancing, fighting cavalry! Week 2! Survival! Foraging and a 5 day field trip on the mainland! Weeks 3 and 4! You will receive your equipment and choose between a sword or an axe! There are 8 of each so you can fight over who gets what!” The next day the recruits received their chainmail armour, their helmets and a shield each. The equipment was brand new from the smithy. They spent the next week perfecting the shield wall, wedge and many other drills. The 8th day they boarded a longship and sailed off the Island for the 1st time in Godfric’s life. “You have had 2 days training in living off the land! You must survive here for 5 days here! Meet me here 5 days from now!” The trainees built a camp with view of the landing point, they took turns to cook, forage and stand guard. They built 1 large shelter out of branches with a sleeping area and a cooking area. After 5 days of living off Squirrel and Rabbit the boat returned. “Against all odds, all of you have survived! Board the boat!” Eutlinde bellowed from the boat. They returned to the mainland and resumed the training. The next day they chose their new weapons, Godfric chose a long, vicious axe. The final fortnight was spent stabbing straw bags and lobbing blunted throwing spears at each other. After training finished, Godfric painted his shield in an abstract circle pattern in orange and white. He visited Freiwine “Ah! Godfric! You made it! Now, my Hearth Troops have been asked to join a Saxon army in a war against the Allemanni. We are leaving tomorrow.” Freiwine informed him.
Chapter 2
They marched through the Germanic forests in late spring, along the way Saxon Spearmen, Hunters, Keel, Axemen and Cavalry joined the warhost. The column was headed by Freiwine himself, followed by his Hearth Troops. After a week marching, they found the enemy. They formed in a Shield wall ½ a mile long. The Hearth Troops were flanked by Keel and Chosen Axemen, clearly, the Allemanni would hit hardest at them. 1 hour later, the Allemanni lined up, fringing a dark Pine forest chanting in a brutal barbarian tongue. The Saxons started shouting into their shields for extra bass and noise, A line of Hunters behind them started to loose pitch arrows into the forest. The fire arrows looked like God himself’s spit in the wind. The Lombardi archers on their side fired back, the main line crouched behind their shields, but the Hunters couldn’t hide, the bowman behind Godfric was hit square in the throat and sprayed the line in blood as he fell over, screaming. The Allemanni had a pile of wood, soaked in flammable Paraffin on which they intended to burn the Saxon corpses, a fire arrow hit this bonfire and set it alight. A colossal explosion ripped the lines of Lombardi archers. Burning oil soaked the archers and the trees, setting them all alight, a cheer like a volcano erupted from the Saxon lines. The Allemanni infantry started to charge at the Saxons. When the enemy was just 30 feet away, the Hearth troops all hurled a throwing-spear into them, the front rank collapsed, hit by the spears. The enemy hit home and the meat-grinder of battle started, he hit an enemy square on the head with his axe, behind this man was an enemy chieftain, he took his guard, the chief dodged or parried the first 3 strikes, but the fourth cleanly decapitated the chief, he didn’t see it coming. Dismayed by this, the Allemanni turned and melted into the forest like butter into a frying pan. Freiwine stepped out in front of the battle-bloodied line and bellowed “Englisc Victori!” The Saxons had started calling themselves the ‘Englisc’, Saxon being what the Celts and Romans called them. Did they know, in the 7th Century AD they would find a new homeland and give it a very similar name?
Chapter 3
1 year later.
Godfric, after slaying the chieftain, was promoted to a tribal elder. Freiwine had called an urgent meeting to decide whether or not to migrate to this big wonderful new island called ‘Britannia’. Whereas everyone could attend, only the elders could speak. “What is ‘Britannia’ like?” asked Richsberg, the smithy who had forged Godfric’s wargear. “It is of a similar clime…” Freiwine answered but someone shouted “You mean it pisses down with rain everyday and it’s foggy when it isn’t pissing it down!?” “Let me finish, the soil is better, there is more space and more fish.” Freiwine responded. “Is anyone living there at the moment?” Godfric asked. “Yes, there are Celts but if you leave them for long enough; they get bored and kill each other.” Freiwine answered. “Beating them won’t be hard, even their women have 2 foot long orange beards!” Geltung shouted and the whole circle roared with laughter. The open meeting decided to join the Angles, Jutes and other Frisians in moving en mass to Britannia. They hit land at a wide estuary, a Saxon village called Hull, so named because they moved all their building materials in the ‘hull’ of the ship. “Let’s sail down the river!” Godfric shouted. “Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Replied Freiwine happily. After 50 miles they came to a shallow bend with a wooden bridge. “That’s the west of the Bridge ford so that’s West Bridgeford and that’d the east of the Bridge ford so that’s East Bridgeford.” Geltung suggested. 5 miles further down, they stopped. “This looks nice!” Exclaimed Freiwine, pleased it had paid off. “I know, let’s call it Nottingham because it’s ‘not’ theirs anymore!” Godfric shouted. Laughter went round and they pulled over the ship. They unloaded wood and small tents for temporary shelter while they rebuilt the village; boats would dismantle the old buildings and ship them over for re-assembly.
Chapter 4
Next morning, they awoke to the site of a Celtic warhost mustering on a hill 2 miles away. “Oh crap, let’s go and meet the neighbours!” Freiwine said clearly but quietly. They grabbed weapons and armour, and then formed a shield wall. “Where did they come from, the frontier is 40 miles east of here!” Geltung roared, with a hangover from last night but looking forward to a punch-up. They could see light chariots lining up for the charge. The chariots started rolling down the hill towards them, the noise of wheels turning loud and intimidating. The chariots stopped to start firing javelins. The Hunters behind them loosed off a volley of vicious fire arrows; several chariots were hit and caught fire, the crew instinctively jumped out of the chariots. The battle-buggies charged at the shield wall, Eutlinde’s guarantee that javelins stop a cavalry charge easily had better be true. They hurled spears into them and broke up the charge, the horses started running away. On the hill they saw sight to terrify any sane man. Gallowglasses. These were elite Celtic warriors, armed with a huge 2 handed sword. They ran down the hill at them like men possessed. Even a massed volley of arrows didn’t stop them, nor did the javelins of the Hearth troops. The clash of battle lines came and Godfric was drawn into a melee with the Celts. His axe blows were dodged and parried, no side made any gain until behind the Celts, he could see cavalry with a banner emblazoned with a Stag, a Saxon banner. The horsemen charged into the rear of the Gallowglasses, they tried to run but they couldn’t. All of them were trampled under the cavalry or hit in the back by Saxon axes.
Chapter 5
3 years later
Godfric awoke. His sister Hilda ran in, “Freiwine! Freiwine has been murdered by Geltung and he has proclaimed himself chieftain!” She screamed, shocked and upset. “I’ve beat him once, I can beat him again.” Godfric pointed out confidently. He donned his Chainmail and Shield, and then picked up his axe. He remembered that in a battle against the Franks, he took a Fransica throwing axe as a trophy; he tucked it in his belt. He found Geltung sitting in the chieftain’s seat in the Wagon and Horses. Godfric had a sense of déjà vu. He drew his axe and walked over to Geltung, Geltung drew his sword and swung a wild blow, Godfric parried it, and he stabbed with his axe and grazed his shoulder. Geltung backed down but Godfric drew a throwing-axe and threw it with deadly accuracy into his chest. Geltung didn’t know what hit him and he died instantly, pouring blood over the shocked drinkers. “This man murdered your chief, I will take the post until a permanent chief can be found, from now on, chiefs will be elected by the council of elders, anyone can be chief.” Godfric announced solemnly.
This is Scruff we are talking about. I can't think of anything I don't see Scruff doing just for the hell of it. - Agrippa 271
The cake was made by Scruffy and it was... a rude shape. - Liam
monkey in a suit on a cycle - Scenter102 describing Scruffy