Looks like this old man is going to show he had a epic life.

So far, so good though!

Cheers and as a reward, here's chapter 1

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Chapter 1

My first taste of action was in a siege against the rebel clan which had taken control of the castle of Skara in Vastergotland. They had objected to the taxation levied on them which, in truth, was more than generous in comparison to the taxes levied against other, friendlier, clans. Therefore the king sent his son Karl, who commanded the Zealand Battalion, to crush the rebels and restore the lucrative tax income to the royal treasury. I was in command of a small group of sixty warriors amongst the almost thousand strong battalion. The siege lasted only ten days but much blood was shed on both sides.

On the tenth day, after preparations had been made and the enemy’s failed sortie, Prince Karl ordered that the rams be brought against the gates and the ladders be hoisted onto the walls. My group was to bring a ladder against a section of the wall far from where the enemy had stationed troops. We raised our hefty ladder and I led my men in the ascent.

‘Onwards men! This day is the day we cover ourselves in glory and the blood of our enemies.’ I announced when I had reached the ramparts.

My men soon followed cheering at what they saw as a huge victory, taking a section of the walls which had been left unguarded. I, however, was more realistic and led them against the enemy’s axemen who were engaged in the defence of the wall against our comrades. They were so surprised in fact that they mistook us for reinforcements and only realised their mistake after three of their number had been hacked to pieces by I and my men. I ripped my gore covered axe from the skull of a rebel and parried a blow from another with my shield before burying the axe deep in his groin. Those coming up the ladder finally had sufficient numbers to break the enemy’s will to resist and most, while begging for mercy, were thrown from the walls to their deaths.

‘Good work, Sigmund!’ I said to the leader of the group that we had been aiding. ‘Now, let’s take the keep.’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself Aleksander,’ He replied. ‘We still have to secure the rest of the walls.’

Reluctantly I agreed that he was indeed correct and we led our men to secure the other sections of the wall that our comrades were fighting for. The clearing of the walls took a mere fraction of the time expected and was just in time for the cavalry to pour into the castle from the broken down gateways. The archers were positioned to shoot at the rebels guarding the keep and the infantry, including my own unit, were charged with guarding the archers from any attack. The rebel leader was visibly rallying his men and trying to boost moral whilst also dodging the arrows being fired from our own archers. He was a small, quite insignificant looking man but from what I could hear of his speech to his men, he was a great orator and a man of noble birth who knew just what to say to keep a man loyal. The promise of reinforcements, which were quite certainly fictitious, if the men could hold out for just one more day seemed to keep those ready to capitulate from doing so.

‘Form a shield wall and prepare to attack the keep!’ Prince Karl ordered and his commanders parroted his commands. ‘Just one last push and we shall have our victory over these damnable rebel swine men. Just one more push!’ He roared and a cheer arose from those nearest and spread to all in the force.

The men began beating their shields with their weapons while the archers continued their impressive, but ultimately ineffective, rain of fire. It was only minutes before the prince grew tired of watching arrows bounce off of the keep and slam into the shields of well protected rebel soldiers and he ordered the infantry to advance.

My men and I began our short march towards the enemy when many of our shields were pierced by javelins thrown by the enemy. Luckily, our shield wall held and those whose shields had been hit dropped back to draw them out and were instantly replaced by fresh men without impaled shields. As our line drew near theirs I ordered the charge along with most other unit commanders and our men slammed into the enemy’s own shield wall. The battle was long and hard, neither side willing to break and neither side able to inflict significant damage. I did however get a sword slash to the arm from an enemy soldier whom I immediately slammed my axe into the skull of. The sound of cracking bone was audible over the din of battle when I withdrew my axe and blood from the man’s head spurted over myself and his comrades.

After almost two hours of constant fighting and both sides being at the brink of breaking at various points the rebel line fell to pieces and the swine were cut to pieces by our marauding troops who were drunk on victory and adrenaline. The keep was taken without much of a fight as the leader of the rebels had withdrawn when all seemed lost and hoped to defend it. Or rather, he hoped the few men he had brought with him would defend it whilst he cowered in the corner. Alas, it was not to be, the men charged with defending him surrendered when they saw his cowardice and gave him up without a fight. My own unit was the one that took him prisoner and I myself had the pleasure of presenting him to the prince.

‘Your majesty, I bring you the leader of this rag-tag band of rebels.’ I announced after kneeling to my prince.

‘Very well done…’ He began before leaning to an advisor to ascertain my name, ‘…Johansson.’

He gestured that I should leave before turning on the rebel leader. As I left I heard Prince Karl roaring about loyalty and betrayal and how the old bastard was lucky not to be in front of his father right now or he would be lucky to escape quartering. As it was Prince Karl decided that a straightforward hanging was all that was called for in the situation and the rebel leader, I later found out his name was Dieter Robinson, was hung in front of both the prince’s army and the survivors of the rebellion.

At the end of the day we were told that we would be staying in the castle for a number of weeks for a garrison force to arrive so that night I ventured to talk with Sigmund about the nature of our mission.

‘What do you mean, the nature of our mission ? We were sent to put down a rebellion.’ He said, bewildered about why I would ask about something we had been informed about before leaving Zealand.

‘Do you really think that the king would send one thousand men just to put down less than three hundred rebels?’ I replied with a tone of condescension. ‘Of course he wouldn’t, we’re waiting for a garrison force in order that we can push on and take the Swedish towns and castles that lie before us. The nearest are Uppsala and Oslo. I bet that there is another force heading out from Kalmar to take the Nykoeping.’ I told him, as he sat in front of me, confused and unreceptive.

Sigmund simply refuted my assertions with the claim that if we were embarking upon a war of aggression against the Swedes then the king would have firstly gotten the approval of the Pope and secondly, he would have gotten the support of the nobles. That night passed with much argument, and ale, passing our lips and eventually sleep came without agreement.

I however, I would eventually be proven correct, but that is a story for another time.

[This message has been edited by Legionary_994 (edited 08-07-2010 @ 11:56 PM).]

This guy obviously isnt an ordinary old man.
he can actually remember stuff.

[This message has been edited by RomulusofEpirus (edited 08-08-2010 @ 00:09 AM).]

I resemble that remark, Romulus. If I wasn't of such good cheer, I might even have been offended.

Legionary- nice tale so far. I like the manner you chose to open the tale- reflections of a warrior upon his career. It is seldom used, but quite handy to have a built-in narrator- especially for leaving cliff-hangers.

Overall, well done so far.

[This message has been edited by Terikel Grayhair (edited 08-08-2010 @ 11:18 AM).]

Thanks Terik and it only really occured to me to do that after writing half the chapter so I pretty much had to scrap what I had done and go right back to the beginning. Was worth it though, it was much more enjoyable to write it that way.

And Romulus, thanks (I think ) I kinda used the whole basis for my Ancient History class when we studied Homer's epic poems, before writing and all these things that help us remember stuff people had REALLY good memories and the Danes and Norse had those Sagas to orally relate so their memories were probably pretty good.

oh no sorry did you think it was an insult?
it was only a joke
great AAR anywayz.

I knew it was a joke Romulus (was making a little one of my own ) but even if you did want to insult him, he's a fictional 70 year old, I don't think he gets offended. Also, it's not an AAR, just a little story I'm not basing it off of a campaign I just used Stainless Steel to get the settlement and region names because I know absolutely nothing about medieval scandanvian geography.

K I finally finished chapter 2 so here ya go.

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Chapter 2

The next morning the usual shouting to wake the army ensued before the inspection by the prince. We were told that we had to secure the surrounding area and visit the local villages to gain information about any remaining rebels in the area. My own unit was sent to a village about three miles from the castle, but other sent as far as twenty miles to their target village. We arrived a little after noon to a decidedly cold welcome by the residents. The children ran in fear and the adults glared with hatred.

‘Why are they so unreceptive? Surely they realise that we liberated them from the rebels in the name of the king!’ My junior officer, Peter asked.

‘We didn’t liberate them in the name of the king Peter!’ I scowled, ‘We re-enslaved them for the king.’

‘What do you mean “re-enslaved them”? The rebels went against the king and therefore against God which means that they were liberated to be welcomed back to God’s blessed family with the rebels’ defeat.’ He naively replied.

I decided against arguing the point further, partly because what I was saying was treasonous and I would be killed for it, but also because I admired his lack of cynicism. As we advanced through the village we heard anonymous voices shouting obscenities at us and telling us to leave. We marched to the small marketplace where I announced our intention to search the village for rebels and this meant the locals opening their homes to my men for the purpose of a search. This did not go down well.

‘Why don’t you take your search and shove it where the sun don’t shine!’ One old man shouted.

He was immediately grabbed by a younger man who apologised and dragged him away. I decided to let it go. I didn’t want to cause a riot. My men began the searches and soon came across a cache of weapons in the house of a middle-aged man who denied any knowledge of how they had found their way into his house. I ordered him arrested and the searches continued, without further fruit, for some time. By the end of them the locals had simmered down and ceased their spontaneous outbursts of anger and the children even approached my men asking if they could see the men’s weapons. The children were allowed to hold the various implements of death the soldiers carried, some struggled to wield hefty axes and others tried to hoist longswords over their heads without success.

‘Okay men, time to go!’ I announced when I deemed the searches over.

It was only as we began to leave that I saw the faint image of dust being kicked up on the horizon and after a minute or two the brief outline of men on horses, around twenty, became visible. I ordered our fastest runner, Per, to get as close as he needed to ascertain their allegiance. Were they wearing the Danish coat of arms or were they rebels? It only took him a few minutes to see that they were on our side and return to me with the news. I marched my men towards them, knowing that they had fresh orders for us, and when they reached us they had shocking news.

‘Who is in command of this unit?’ A plump old man with thinning grey hair asked.

‘I am, sir.’ I answered as I stepped forward from my unit.

‘Good. I need you to read this letter from the prince and carry out his orders.’ He told me as he handed down a letter with the prince’s own seal on it.

Before I could do any more than accept the letter he ordered his men to begin their ride back to the castle. I looked on perplexed, not quite knowing whether or not to open the letter. If I did I was sure that what I would find, staring back at me, was a letter ordering me to undertake a dangerous mission which I would surely not survive, but if I didn’t I would return to the castle, be asked why I didn’t go and be proven a liar when I said I didn’t get any such letter and the officer who handed it to me and his men identified me as the one whom they had given it to. It was a lose/lose situation. I decided that it would be better to open it and die on the mission rather than be killed in disgrace for disobeying orders.

The mission I have for you is a very dangerous one and will involve a very high likelihood of death for both you and your men, but it is necessary for our success in the upcoming war with Norway. You are required to cross our border with Norway and begin a covert campaign against their military officers and infrastructure. You will not, however, be alone in this sacred duty. I have also assigned the unit led by a man called Soren Friis this very mission. You will meet him in a village just over the border in Akershus from where you will go to Oslo to begin this duty. Good luck.

Prince Karl

I knew that I couldn’t disobey this order, but why me? Why was I the one that had to do this damned duty? It didn’t matter, either way I was a dead man so I decided to tell my men of our good luck to be chosen for such an important mission and begin to make our way to the rendezvous village. We marched for some four days before reaching the border and as we crossed I felt an overwhelming sense of dread at the prospect of actually going through with this mission. The forests of the area provided perfect cover from the numerous Norwegian patrols we encountered along our route. Evidently they had been expecting trouble in the area as it was no normal volume of military traffic with almost three patrols in the space of six hours.

It wasn’t long after crossing the border that we arrived in the small village where we were to meet Soren and his men. It was a long wait, however, as they had been held up by an even larger number of patrols than us. We waited almost two days and were almost detected a handful of times before Soren’s men arrived. I greeted him at the edge of the village and we talked about a strategy to avoid the patrols. I also learned from him that there were so many patrols as the locals were acting up, some in the outlying villages had begun rioting and some soldiers had been murdered just outside Oslo.

‘Well that will make it easier for us to remain undetected. They’ll think our activity is just an escalation of the locals’ actions.’ I told him with a smile over a drink.

‘Yes, but it also means that before we even begin there will be heightened security around their officers and military buildings.’ He replied with a sigh.

I had to agree, but despite this I remained optimistic about our chances. With civil strife helping to mask our actions we could strike and melt away with ease and therefore avoid detection. I was even willing to wager that some of the locals would harbour us if we ran into difficulties when running from any forces that catch us in the act. All in all I was confident of our chances, what I hadn’t counted on was the expertise of the Norwegian military when it came to counter-espionage, but that can wait for another time.

I set myself the target of getting this chapter in by the end of the night (about to turn 12 here so I just made it). Soz it took so long, I was SOOOOOOOO distracted by other things.

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Chapter 3

The following months were a blur of activity. Soren and his men decided to go to the northern part of the region where they could gain the assistance of the locals who had not yet been pacified by the Norwegian forces and then pick off patrols in a guerrilla style campaign. I decided that my men and I would take the sabotage aspect of our mission and head for Oslo castle. My plan was to find a group coming back from patrol and take their clothes. As long as we bore the Norwegian coat of arms on our outfits we would never be suspected of being behind the disruption.

With this purpose in mind I positioned most of my men on a ridge overlooking a minor track through the sparse woodland which led back to Oslo and I took around ten to the road itself. It was only a short time later that I saw a patrol marching along the road and ordered my men to take up their positions. As it drew closer the patrol of around fifty men drew weapons and came within feet of me and my men. They knew that we were Danish soldiers and ordered us to lay down our weapons and surrender.

‘I was about to ask you to do likewise, commander.’ I answered as my men on the ridge appeared and either drew their bows or raised their spears into a throwing position.

‘I can see that we won’t win this. Lay down your arms men!’ The commander ordered and they did so with haste.

I ordered my men to surround the enemy and those on the ridge came down to help. The Norwegians thought that our purpose was to capture them and ransom them back to their king, which is why I supposed they were so willing to throw down their weapons. My men closed in, awaiting my signal. It wasn’t long before I realised that we needed their clothes before we disposed of them so I ordered them to strip off their cloaks and cotton shirts. At first perplexed they eventually decided that, disarmed as they were, it was not a good idea to resist an order no matter how unusual. As soon as they handed over their weapons my men pounced upon and slaughtered the unfortunate Norsemen. Task finished I had them hide the bodies deep in the woods and we continued on our way to Oslo.

Our entry into the castle grounds of Oslo was a tense affair for all my men, luckily the sentries saw the Norse coat of arms on our uniforms and simply opened the gates without a word. We entered and split up in order to find somewhere to take the uniforms off. I took three men and we found a small side street near the walls of the castle and hid the uniforms in a hay cart nearby. The small settlement in the shadow of the keep was bustling with activity and it wasn’t long before my men had their assignments. To avoid suspicion I instructed my men to stay in groups no larger than four or five and I sent messengers to each group with their individual instructions. I decided that my own group would go to the stables and cause a stampede through the streets to enable us to burn the building down.

We entered a small inn in the town near the stables and got rooms for ourselves. That done we retired to our rooms and awaited the midnight hour when we would begin our mission. It wasn’t long before I knocked lightly on the wall of my room to indicate to Karl that we were going and that he was to do likewise on his wall. I opened the shutter of my room and began my descent to the ground around ten feet below. I placed my feet carefully in the cracks and crevices of the inn and managed to deftly make my way to the soft earth below. I was joined within seconds by my three comrades and we started our journey to the stables as silently as possible. Karl, Aksel and Frederik carried small daggers in case of attack whereas I had brought my hand axe for any well-armed opponent that we crossed paths with.

It wasn’t long before I spotted a soldier on patrol of the town walking towards the stables. I approached quietly and when within five feet of him I hurled my small axe towards him which buried itself silently between his shoulder blades. Unfortunately another soldier was not far behind and he spotted me. However, before he could call out Karl, Aksel and Frederik pounced upon him and plunged their daggers into his body. We dragged the bodies out of the street and plunged each one’s weapon into the other to make it look more like they killed each other. We pressed on to the stables without further incident and I had my men give me a boost to the window on the side. When inside the horses were still asleep and weren’t awoken by the noise of the doors opening and my team entering.

‘Okay, open the paddock doors without waking the horses, when they’re all open smash the lanterns and set the place on fire, the horses should stampede and we’ll get out of here as fast as possible.’ I whispered when we were all inside.

We began this work and within minutes all fifty horses were ready to be stampeded. I grabbed one of the lanterns from the wall and smashed it near the back of the stable and the horses awoke with a start. Most began bucking wildly before charging out of the stable doors. The flames licked up the walls of the stable and spread throughout the building as my men and I made our bid for freedom. The guards at the gate saw that flames were spreading throughout the town as the other groups had attacked targets such as the barracks, the market and forges. Some of the top commanders were also killed and their homes set ablaze in the operation. My men reached the gate first and as the guards were distracted we killed them from behind and opened raised the portcullis. The entire group of saboteurs and assassins escaped and I led them into the forest surrounding the castle.

We came to a large coppice where we could hide from any patrols sent after us and ambush the smaller ones. I gathered my men and congratulated them and set some the task of first sentry duty while the rest of us slept. Those with bows I had scale the trees nearby and keep watch from there while those without were to hide in bushes by the trees. I concealed myself within one bush and settled down for the night, the various shifts were sorted out by drawing lots. The night passed without incident and over the next few weeks my men and I had some success but we also suffered some failures in our quest to weaken the Norse defences before war was declared, but that shall have to wait for another night.

Nice installment.

One logic point- if the teller of the tale killed the sentry by hurling his axe into his back, while the others daggered his comrade- how can it be made to look like they killed each other? The one would have slain the other, who thereafter cannot slay his killer.

Nice use of wooden buildings- most Norwegian cities in those days was almost entirely of wood. Many fires.

Bows don't work well in trees. A bow must be held vertically to have any accuracy, and branches interefere with that.

But overall, a gripping installment.

Thanks Terik.

First, I was thinking of putting in how it would have happened but decided it was too rambley but was thinking, one stabbed the other a few times, went to walk away and the stabbed one plunged his weapon in the back of the stabber.

And the bow thing...you and your logic.

Sorry...

I used to do archery. I could hit an apple at twenty five paces, using a simple bow and well-used arrows. Nothing professional, just standard stuff at summer camp when I was a kid, but I was really good at it.

Recently, there was a shooting booth at a carnival. Holding the bow at an angle because of the counter, I missed from three paces. Twice. I stepped back, held the bow vertically, and put the next four arrows into the exact center of the apple-sized target. Conclusion: bows held at angles or flat like on TV are far more inaccurate (has to do with the fletchings of the arrows and the angle they leave the bow). Bows held normally (vertically) have a much better accuracy.
EDIT: Thinking this over, I am pretty sure the aiming point varies with the angle. An arrow has three fletchings, and when nocking it in the bow, one always puts the horizontal fletching to the outside. In this manner the arrow flies true. Holding the bow at an angle means the horizontal is no longer horizontal, and thus the aiming point shifts. An experienced archer might know to where the aiming point shifts (he would need to know this per angle- 10, 15, 20, 30, 35, 40, and 45 degrees from vertical)- but he would have to practice a lot with the angles and at different ranges in order to hit his target. Mosst archers only use the vertical (which is one reason why horse-archers use smaller bows than footmen).

The above was background. As a writer aiming for accuracy, you will pick up lots of little tips and tricks to make your tales seem more realistic and true. This is but one of them, offered freely and with no malice.

[This message has been edited by Terikel Grayhair (edited 08-29-2010 @ 09:46 AM).]

Who told you I was a writer aiming for accuracy? I'll kill 'em! But I guess I have to pretend I am now.

Seriously though, thanks Terik, but I would have thought that tilting your body in angle you would tilt the bow at would help with the accuracy thing, and if you were in a tree and tilting down, you could wrap your legs around the bough you were sitting on at the time. No?

Quoted from Legionary:

I would have thought that tilting your body in angle you would tilt the bow at would help with the accuracy thing, and if you were in a tree and tilting down, you could wrap your legs around the bough you were sitting on at the time.

Only in Hollywood, my friend, only in Hollywood.

great post sir

Only in Hollywood, my friend, only in Hollywood.

Damnit!

great post sir

I don't think I've been called sir since I had to bring first years to their classes on their first day last year. Thanks.

[This message has been edited by Legionary_994 (edited 08-31-2010 @ 08:10 AM).]

Amazing story legionary. favorite part was defenatly the quiet, attack scene. Well written. Hopefully you make more installments.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while I had to get my comp wiped clean and upgraded. I'll try and add something by Monday.

Great! I look forward to the next chapter