Finn of Devon
Recruit
Eorl Aethelwulf of Lundenwic groaned... His envoy to Kent had been shot at. The city that had fallen to Erik the Usurper, a heathen who brought his warriors from Agder to settle the fertile Christian lands. A damned affront to all men of Saxon stock, all men who knelt before the White Christ.
His men howled for justice, for revenge... but it was too late. The bloodthirsty Heathens of Kent had began to move, they had reached the bridge bordering Wessexian land and Mercian land. The game was afoot, a battle ready. Erik was no fool, he was a wiley man and cunning like a fox. Aethelwulf knew this, and knew to meet his men in the field as they baited them was no wise move. It'd be foolhardy to charge from their walls and risk the lives of the clergymen of Westminster and Lindisfarne, especially as they had horsemen riding the fields.
Erik's cavalry smashed open their north gate, and it was time for them to fall back to the Town's Keep. Hustling panicked serfs and cursing clergymen into the thick walls, as Aethelwulf relied on an old bargain struck with the finest warriors of Agder. Fenris, Helgrim, Surtur.. and those who would follow them. The battle raged, men of his killed in the streets, hacked apart by the Heathens of Hedeby. They held within the Holdfast, defending the stocks of food, the stocks of weapons, their Eorl's honour and most importantly the good Christian folk of the land.
"Cowards, face us!" Erik the Heathen roared.
The battle continued, archers trimming the lines of Erik as the men of Mercia held a tight shieldwall in their holdfast, unwavering and slaying any who dared push against it. Erik's anger grew, and the men within the Keep grew restless. Wishing to charge, yet forbayed. Holding their ground like good men of a discipline only Christ could bring. Arrows sang and javelin flew. The battle raged, Heathens dying upon the shield wall of the men of Mercia who had taken to their defensive stone walls.
And then they came.
Roaring with the might of their Pagan Gods, Fenris and his brothers charged through the gates of Lundenwic and brought the attackers to the sword. The pact was sealed. A rush of Mercian steel and sweat clashed to make the Wessex line sandwhich and crumble. Routing the wounded Erik and his men from the lands, a decisive victory for the Christian folk of Mercia... or was it?
The Danegeld was made to be paid. Ships restored to working order by Ceorls of Mercia, coffers emptied to appease their Pagan friends. And wine drunk in plenty to celebrate a victory, as friends, not foes.
The battle was won, and Eorl Aethelwulf's men gathered about the Keep's courtyard, picked the fallen bodies clean and buried those who had fallen with the aid of Brother Gudbrand and Brother Rathorn.And then it was declared.
All hail Aethelwulf, Cyning of Mercia! Bretwald of Engaland!
And so it was declared. Peace was made with the Heathens of Agder, trade routes established and a common mutual agreement to not raid. Erik's days were numbered should he not kneel. Yet the men of Northumbria, although present amongst the Cyning of Mercia's ranks, were yet to speak on it. Trouble brews amongst the Four Kingdoms. And as a wise man once said,
"Once you pay the Dangeld, you will never be rid of the Dane."
His men howled for justice, for revenge... but it was too late. The bloodthirsty Heathens of Kent had began to move, they had reached the bridge bordering Wessexian land and Mercian land. The game was afoot, a battle ready. Erik was no fool, he was a wiley man and cunning like a fox. Aethelwulf knew this, and knew to meet his men in the field as they baited them was no wise move. It'd be foolhardy to charge from their walls and risk the lives of the clergymen of Westminster and Lindisfarne, especially as they had horsemen riding the fields.
Erik's cavalry smashed open their north gate, and it was time for them to fall back to the Town's Keep. Hustling panicked serfs and cursing clergymen into the thick walls, as Aethelwulf relied on an old bargain struck with the finest warriors of Agder. Fenris, Helgrim, Surtur.. and those who would follow them. The battle raged, men of his killed in the streets, hacked apart by the Heathens of Hedeby. They held within the Holdfast, defending the stocks of food, the stocks of weapons, their Eorl's honour and most importantly the good Christian folk of the land.
"Cowards, face us!" Erik the Heathen roared.
The battle continued, archers trimming the lines of Erik as the men of Mercia held a tight shieldwall in their holdfast, unwavering and slaying any who dared push against it. Erik's anger grew, and the men within the Keep grew restless. Wishing to charge, yet forbayed. Holding their ground like good men of a discipline only Christ could bring. Arrows sang and javelin flew. The battle raged, Heathens dying upon the shield wall of the men of Mercia who had taken to their defensive stone walls.
And then they came.
Roaring with the might of their Pagan Gods, Fenris and his brothers charged through the gates of Lundenwic and brought the attackers to the sword. The pact was sealed. A rush of Mercian steel and sweat clashed to make the Wessex line sandwhich and crumble. Routing the wounded Erik and his men from the lands, a decisive victory for the Christian folk of Mercia... or was it?
The Danegeld was made to be paid. Ships restored to working order by Ceorls of Mercia, coffers emptied to appease their Pagan friends. And wine drunk in plenty to celebrate a victory, as friends, not foes.
http://images.akamai.steamusercontent.com/ugc/45377511642964355/C519051BE88428F1EF4284470560DBD14B5DB244/
http://images.akamai.steamusercontent.com/ugc/45377511642964875/8657ABB70CC3D0013D7C467766C98FDE0D1B5AB1/
The battle was won, and Eorl Aethelwulf's men gathered about the Keep's courtyard, picked the fallen bodies clean and buried those who had fallen with the aid of Brother Gudbrand and Brother Rathorn.And then it was declared.
All hail Aethelwulf, Cyning of Mercia! Bretwald of Engaland!
And so it was declared. Peace was made with the Heathens of Agder, trade routes established and a common mutual agreement to not raid. Erik's days were numbered should he not kneel. Yet the men of Northumbria, although present amongst the Cyning of Mercia's ranks, were yet to speak on it. Trouble brews amongst the Four Kingdoms. And as a wise man once said,
"Once you pay the Dangeld, you will never be rid of the Dane."
Massive thanks to EVERYONE who participated in the battles and RP tonight, really helps to keep the server alive and to build a community when we're able to communicate and create awesome events like we have these last few days! Here's hoping it will only bring more fun about, and establish great groups and a direction for the developers and leaders when this leaves Beta!