The Tale of Dragar (After Action Report)

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After reading monnikje's wonderful tale of Floris, and seeing the current gap between posts, I was inspired to start my own little series of posts about my experiences in Caladria.  I have been playing the game for about a month now, and spending a great deal of time on it, so I am somewhat used to the mechanics.  So, being supremely confident (read:  highly overconfident) in my abilities as a fighter in the game, I decided to start a new game in the Diplomacy mod (3.3.2).  Also, I decided to crank the difficulty up substantially from what I had been playing (the default, so not exactly hard but quite fun to run rampant through the lines of the lesser men) to 92% (full damage to myself, my companions, automatic lance control, good campaign and battle AI, normal speed, 70 battle participants).  As I progress, the battle size limit may increase--I will put that at the beginning of the post.  Save with quit was implemented as well--it just wouldn't be fair to write an AAR under other circumstances. 

The Tale of Dragar, Chapter One:

I have been in Caladria for a week now, and have decided it would be best for me to start a journal of what has transpired since I arrived.  In fact, I had better start with the beginning--before I arrived.  I keep this journal for posterity, that any heir I may have may know the full story.  I was born to a guardsman in a border town, living in semi-retirement after his service in the wars that had plagued my homelands.  The living was not good, but it was safe.  We barely had enough to eat, so my father prenticed me to the smith, for a little meat on the table.  I grew older and stronger, working the bellows and running water for my master.  As such, a poorer knight, raised to status rather than born, saw my potential and took me as squire, for a time.  I learned much from him, growing to a capable fighter.  Finally, I learned to write--he had grown up illiterate, and had only learned himself recently, as part of his duties.  He said he'd need a squire to be able to read and write, that I may one day be given such responsibilities and be knighted myself.  Ser Rastor was a kind man.  He was slain in battle two months ago, along with his liege and most of the army in a damn fool crusade.  Ser Rastor knew it would be grave folly, but went with his liege as was his duty.  His last act before riding to his death was to release me of my service, and told me to leave--there would be nothing for me back home, after our army was smashed and the enemy would rape and pillage and destroy what we had.  My father had died of the plague several years prior, and my mother...I do not wish to speak of it at this time.  There was nothing for me in Molhrond, so I left.  With what little coin I had I took passage to Caladria, and journeyed to Reyvadin, where I heard there was a living to be had.

Shortly after arriving, I was accosted in the street by a bandit.  I acted swiftly, and with some luck I might add, and placed a bolt from my crossbow between his eyes as he approached me, sword arm raised.  A merchant approached me, and ushered me into his home.  He had a proposition for me.  Apparently, bandits had been waylaying and ransoming people of means in town, his brother being the most recent.  He asked that I recruit some men from the local villages, and find these brigands.  He paid up front, a small sum but a sum nonetheless.

I set out to recruit some men.  After doing so, I was accosted by some minor ruffians.  I thought to have my men gain some experience fighting these six (we were five, myself included, but I was on horse old as it may be).  While these filth were put to the sword, my men did not survive the conflict.  They were too rash, and inexperienced.  Were troubles new to this land of Vaegirs, that they knew not even the basics of fighting?  I took the little of value of salvage from the battle, and searched for more men.  I acquired them, and spotted a training field.  I saw this as an opportunity to further my skills, and spoke with the master there.  He had me spar with some men, first of lower quality, then increasingly better.  I was overeager at first, and was incautious--one of the first knocked me firmly on my rear with ease.  That my injuries from the previous battles had not healed was certainly a factor, but I thought that I would not always be able to fight without hurt upon me, so I continued to train.  I learned from my mistakes, and quickly bested most of his men.  Then, with the best amongst them, I ran into troubles.  Not only did the trainer consistently refuse to grant me more than a staff, whilst my opponents would have sword and shield, or greatsword.  He said that in battle, you often must take up equipment you'd rather not have, and he saw my relative lack of skill with the staff.  It took some time, but finally I could best three in sequence.  He said I was ready for combat, or as ready as he could make me.

I left the field, and spotted another, larger, group of brigands.  Poorly equipped, they outnumbered us 10 to six, and my I was bruised and cut still.  No matter--it was time to test my men and my skills.  I lost two men, and took some more hurt, but the rest of my men garnered much useful experience.  I allowed them to improve their gear, and granted a small bonus to them for a job well done.  I picked up some more men, on my path to Reyvadin.  When I went to meet the merchant in the tavern, a woman named Katrin asked if I was hiring more hands.  She had been a camp follower for some time, and had decided to take the life of mercenary up.  I welcomed her to the party, and together we left to find the kidnappers.

We found them shortly after leaving town--a band of four men.  They fell quickly before me.  I had sense enough to use the flat of my blade to knock one out, to be questioned later.  He told me of the location of his comrades, on the condition that I not send him to the gallows.  I agreed, and went to their hideout.  It was a lonely place, and hard to approach--a good place for scum to hide.  My men bested them, though I nearly fell--one of my men, overeager to kill some bandits, obstructed my arm as I swung for a bandit, causing me to miss and opening me for attack.  I brought my shield up, too late, and I was able to dispatch him as he struck at me again.  I hung back as my men raced towards the last remaining bandit.  He stood no chance.  The merchants brother was freed.  We returned to Reyvadin.

There he told me that a local guard captain had been letting the bandits operate, having lost his money in a trade venture when bandits struck.  I agreed to help him capture this man in the morning.  The plan was of his making, and a poor one.  When on the streets, he just had his men charge blindly at the guard's bandits, without even giving me proper warning.  As I drew my sword and shield, I was struck from behind by a bandit, and knocked unconscious before I could even swing at one.  Merchants.

I awoke to find that the captain was captive, and was being turned over to the guard.  I gathered my men, who had more luck than myself in battle, and went to the tavern.  King Yargolek was not pleased for the breach of peace, but he was generous enough not to hang us for our actions, and let the merchant sell his interests at a fair price.  The king here is weak, the merchant said, and had to look to his authority.  Had I erred in coming to this land?

I left Reyvadin for Curaw, and there I found that Iron was quite cheap--a quarter of the price it would fetch at Reyvadin!  This is but a short journey, so I naturally bought what I could, and left for Reyvadin.  I made a tidy profit, and returned to Curaw and repeated.  Katrin was better at negotiating than I was, so I let her handle these affairs.  I then loaded up, heavily, on iron at Curaw, and set out for Khudan, where I was told I could fetch a similar price.  I did, and now had a tidy sum of denars in my pocket.  I went to the tavern to celebrate.  I met another woman, Ymira, who had left her family when her father sought to wed her to a man more than a decade her senior for something as petty as money.  She had no real skill in battle, but a decent aptitude with trade and with healing, so I took her aboard.  A drunk somehow took offense to this, managing to clear out of his wine-fog long enough to accost me.  I was able to defend myself ably, and I received his purse and sword.  Not a bad sword, better than the one I had now.  Still, it was a terrible waste.  I shall rest here, and let my wounds heal a bit, before I continue my trade.

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My (almost) initial stats--I forgot to take a screenshot until I leveled, so I took one before I spent my points:
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Stats at close:
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I'll be posting every couple of days here, and I'll start keeping better track of some of this stuff, like my gear and that of my companions.  Steam takes larger screenshots than I thought, so I'll start resizing them after this.  For now, they're in spoiler tags. 
 
Good start. One tip though: figure out how to resize your screenies so we don't have to scroll so far over. If you use ImageShack you can set the screen size you want it to come out as when you upload. I use the 17-inch monitor setting.
 
Not bad. It feels kind of rushed though as you're typing, but that may just be because it's the beginning and you may not be very experienced. Other authors of AARs started similarly, but they improved over time. Keep going at it though. :grin:

Also, you may want to try headings, similar to how monnikje does. His use of headings and screenshots make it seem like you're reading less than you really are. Nobody likes to read a wall of text, so try to make it look like it isn't one. Again, that might not be something you are familiar with now, just toy around with it.

But still, good start :grin:
 
The Tale of Dragar, Chapter Two

Journal of Dragar, second entry

I have been here for a little over a month now.  I have become, of all things, a sort of merchant.  For now, at least.  The incessant warring of the nobles may make it quite difficult.  At Curaw, I purchased a load of iron for a song, and took it to Reyvadin to sell.  I made such runs several times, between Curaw and either Reyvadin, Rivacheg, or Khudan.  Then, the warring of the kings saw to interrupt such plans.

Curaw has been besieged numerous times, almost constantly, over the last several weeks.  The Nords took it quickly, but since then, it seems the Boyars have sought to retake it, constantly besieging and then fleeing the moment the Jarls come into view.  The constant sieges have caused merchants to stockpile their iron, rather than sell it.  Though there are rich mines nearby, I could potentially make a living selling iron to here!

As I could not complete such routes, I sought greener pastures--ones without hordes of looters and bandits that have sprung up as the kings fight each other in preference to tending their realm.  The merchant's statement of the weakness of the kings has been showing how understated it really is.  I've been accosted by deserters, and forced to pay them free passage.  The Vaegir lands are all but too dangerous.

I thus headed to Dhirim.  There, I found iron at low prices.  Curiously, tools were at a premium there.  I spoke with the Guild Master, and he sold me some land that I set an ironworks on.  The price of tools has been grand--I make nearly 800 a week in net income from that enterprise.  Profitable, indeed.  The Guild Master also mentioned a bounty for some bandits that had troubled the town.  I set myself upon them, and claimed the bounty.  The people were pleased, that is for certain.  I acquired some more men in the lands nearby, as well as a man named Lezalit to train them.  His skills as a trainer are not to be underestimated--the quality of my men improved, literally overnight.

Ymira, however, was not pleased.  She thought Lezalit was cruel for cruelty's sake.  I dismissed her complaint, for I know that discipline in the ranks saves lives in battles.  They may hate him during the drills, but they will thank him surely later.  The Guild Master also informed me that some other bandits had kidnapped his friends daughter.  Cowards!  These men could not achieve on a level playing field, and sought to take from those who could.  I was tasked with being a courier to ransom the girl.

I rode north, to Rhudan, a journey of nearly two days, with the ransom in my purse.  It occured to me:  why settle for 130 denars, when I could keep the whole 500 beside?  Ride in there, kill the bandits, take the girl--no one's in a position to complain.  When I was speaking with them, Ymira asked if they were dangerous.  "No, Ymira, these men are cowards."  Taking offense (as I intended), they attacked.  I speared several upon a lance I had found, but my wounds from my previous encounter with bandits proved too much, and I was knocked unconscious as I fell from my horse to a blow.  I awoke shortly thereafter, to the cheers of my men and the care of Ymira. 

I rode back to Dhirim, to the thanks of the Guild Master.  I purchased a lot of iron, and placed some into the stores of my warehouse.  I then rode to Reyvadin, and sold the rest.  There, I met a man named Nizar, who spoke in a flowery manner.  I welcomed him to my company, along with a merchant named Marid.  He seems a more decent sort than Katrin, and is certainly more use in battle than Ymira.

Curaw was still recovering from the siege, and iron was quite expensive there still.  I spoke to the guild master, and he told me that there were many looters nearby, emboldened by the recent troubles.  I set out, and caught all of them, putting them to the sword.  Some had fled quite a field from Curaw, but none escaped justice.  I fought some sea raiders as well, and took some nice armor as prize.  Finally, I feel like a soldier than a merchant.

I returned to Dhirim, and registered in the tourney that was there.  I placed a bet upon myself, at long odds I admit.  I survived the first round, but the second, a man on horse struck me from behind, and I was eliminated.  I hired a man named Jeremus as physician--he seems quite competent.  I know I already have one, but why take chances with my health in battle?  Before I left, the guild master asked me to put an end to the war between Swadia and the Khergits.  Trade has ruined prices there (iron is too expensive to buy, and almost too expensive to run my ironworks.  Thankfully, I have some still in reserve.)

I ride to find Count Plais and the Noyan who oppose peace.  Perhaps I can persuade them that peace, at least for now, will be better than their incessant fighting.

I have seen the weakness of the kings, and their rapacious works.  This must be put to an end.

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I forgot to take screenshots during play, but I have a few thus far:

Dragar:
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Uploaded with ImageShack.us

Glad you like it so far.  I do like the increased challenge, a bit, but some things are just frustrating--like the dramatic increase in iron so soon after I started my ironworks, due to incessant sieges on Curaw.  C'est la guerre. 
 
I wish to preface this by saying "I'm really sorry that I took so long for an AAR, and that the AAR is going to be very not good in detail because I played a marathon session, then did not promptly write the next chapter, and then didn't get back to this for a couple of weeks."  So there will be a large gap in events, and I am sorry for that.


The Tale of Dragar, Chapter Three
Journal of Dragar, October the Seventh, Year of Our Lord 1257

Has it truly been so long that I write in this journal?  Have I lost myself so fully in pursuits that I forgot to keep any record of what I have done these several months?  What is most shameful about this, almost unforgivable, is that I have mostly been the merchant.

I am shamed, somewhat by this, but I have come to the realization that if I intend to truly do something about this, to truly fix this broken land of Caladria, then I first must do so from a position of power.  And, for a common-born man such as myself, power means wealth.  Filthy lucre, as my father used to call it, the bane of poor and king alike.  It seems that so much of what was fought for back home was over money, now that I can truly see it for what it was.  Money, and a lust to control it.  Thoughts for the people seem...nonexistent.  If there will be one land that sees this fool course end, then I will make it so.

Firstly, I found the two stubborn nobles, so called, and sought to entreat them to put an end to their war.  They agreed--but for a token sum, to line their pockets.  Their conscience was bought by mere gold?  I cannot abide by such men.  With peace in hand, however, I began making routes from Curaw to Tulga, picking up spice and salt, and selling it across Swadia, picking up Iron in Dhirim and again selling it in Tulga.  I also traveled to the Sarranid sands, where I found that Ahmerrad had good quantities of and prices for Iron.  I began a varied route then, grabbing what was profitable to sell, and doing so.  As my wealth increased, I set up various enterprises across the lands--mostly dyeworks making velvet, but I have an oil press in Shariz and a tannery in Yalen. 

As I wandered across the lands, buying small parcels of land for enterprises, I found and fought several bandit groups.
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I was accosted several times in cities by bandits at night--I fought them all of, naturally, but I began to wonder how effective the town watches truly were.  I have yet to make enough of a name for myself for anyone to want me dead enough to send such brigands for me, but it gnaws at my mind.

Farmers asked my aid of them, and I gladly obliged--their lots are hard enough as is.
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I fought some Taiga bandits in their lair, as their patrols constantly upset my travel plans:

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Guildmasters paid me to destroy groups of troublesome bandits, and I obliged.

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Looters and various other filth troubled towns, and I dispensed them as well.  I was paid for this work, but I would have done it for free.  Bandits are filth, and I will endeavor never to stoop to such measures.

During this time, Katrin heard of my desire to see the lands united, perhaps under my banner. She seized my hand, and proclaimed that the markings of my hand were that of a king!  She offered to tell of my inherent right to rule, and I accepted.  It would mean that the woes and troubles she caused by being in my group would abate, and my plans could slowly manifest.  Artimmener took offense at this, believing there to be a proper course to determine such things:  the divination of an astrologer.

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One superstition is good as the next, I suppose--all worthless, in my eyes.  If it were truly so simple and worthwhile, whence comes the fighting?  I think that those who know such things simply sell the idea of what the purchaser wants to hear, and the buyer remembers only that which he wants to and forgets the false promises. 

I also entered every tourney I saw, and wagered on myself.  It was just pocket change, given my current stream of revenue, and it made the whole lot of it more entertaining for myself.  I did fairly well, overall--rising to the fifth and sixth rounds, consistently.  Sometimes, it was bad luck in equipment that did me in, or poor teammates.  How can anyone expect a team of three archers, in a tiny arena, compete against any force of cavalry at all?  Still, one time I managed to unhorse a rider, take his horse, and use that mobility to survive the round.

Which brings me to the present day:  the Khergits and the Swadians are at it once again.  Having grown weary of simple travel, and fighting of the occasional bandit group, I hired my blade to the Khergits, since they truly have the upper hand and will likely win this conflict, for good, soon.  It means peace in that segment of land, which means trade can flourish and the peasants can live their lives.  Also, it creates a bit of a name for myself, for when I do take a stand and begin to carve for myself a kingdom. 

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All images uploaded with ImageShack.us, and sized for your hopeful convenience.

I'll try and do one a week from now on, but we'll see how that goes.
 
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