Through Mud and Iron

[Censored69]

((OOC Notes:

Hello folks. Hopefully this is the right place for this. Welcome to my first attempt at an AAR. I've chosen Brytenwalda due to the vast amount of content it has and how well it runs despite that.
I tried to find some info about the Dark ages before starting this, however accurate information is mostly scattered and the links here in these forums lead primarily to deleted youtube videos so I apologize ahead of time for the historical inaccuracies.

My difficulty setting is 114%. I have it so player takes 1/2 damage and lance controls are automatic. I'm kinda terrible at warband so I expect this character to get the crap kicked out of his from time to time. Luckily that will be pretty fitting for his concept. I have also disabled the trip when walking backwards function cause all that does is frustrate me. Anyways this first post will be a prologue and I'm open to (and appreciate) criticism.))

Prologue:
Pope Honorius the First​

It started with an argument. Well maybe that's oversimplifying things a bit. More properly it started with an election. You see I had grown up in the Roman Catholic Church. My father was said to have been a rather unsavory character who forced himself onto some serf's daughter. The product of that encounter was my birth and my eventual abandonment. I had been left on the side of the road and I still consider myself lucky to this day that Brother Morris found me before I starved. Thus I spent the next sixteen years of my life being trained as a Acolyte in Rome. It wasn't the most exciting upbringing but I was rather fond of it. That was up until the election of Pope Honorius the heretic. I've been reprimanded far too many times for calling him that, however I was taught that when the lord urges you to speak you cannot keep your mouth shut.

You see Honorius believed in only one will. Divine will. He believed that Christ did not have a human will. How crazy was that? Any discussion of such a thing should have been considered blasphemy. Think of the implications! Christ having a human will meant that he made his choices despite temptation. He managed to bypass his human nature for us so that his sacrifice could cleanse of our sins. Without that his sacrifice meant nothing. It would simply be a cheap pardon to absolve us of our guilt. Well after too many debates with too many fools I decided it was time to get away from Rome for a bit. I was initiated into priesthood in January of 636 and I signed up to join the next group of missionaries headed for England.

I was to be sent to Centaware. Apparently King Eadbald of Kent wished to have a priest at his side during battle. Why was I chosen? I think someone was hoping I'd die surrounded by naked barbarians. Or maybe I'd get sacrificed to their false gods in trade for good soil. Nonetheless I was excited at the opportunities this would bring me. I felt it would probably be far easier to convince a man of god's mercy whilst I was patching up a spear wound and honestly, how bad could battles be? I was naive. Now I wish I had stayed in Rome.​

 

[TheFlyingFishy]

Seems like it has potential. Good luck!

 

[Idibil]

Added

http://forums.taleworlds.com/index.php?topic=155978.msg3749582#msg3749582

 

[krisvk]

I like this prologue, do you have resting disabled too? (not that it matters, im just curious )

 

[delavaskez]

(( Cool thingy mate, also.. note about the the tripping when walking backwards.. It saved my head countless of times, no way Im gonna disable it xD. Even though it irritates me when Im not trying to fight and for some reason I walk backwards -.- ))

 

[Censored69]

((OOC Note:

Oh, wow. I got added to the AAR topic. Now I kinda feel obligated to continue. Thanks so much for the feedback, especially considering this is just a prologue. I meant to have chapter 1 up last night but I ran into some technical difficulties and had to restart Balbus twice. So you'll notice some differences with his proficiencies and his face.

I was actually worried I wouldn't have enough content for this post. I only played for an hour.

@krisvk: Nope. I have it set so resting affects morale. I actually rather enjoy that feature and what it does to travel times.

Quick question guys. From reading the prologue what did you think Balbus' age was? I was rereading it and I think I may given the wrong impression and messed up the timeline a little bit.))

Act I: A Year Of Service​

Chapter I:​

Just A Taste​

The ship landed on the 23nd of February along the coast of Centaware. A small caravan was going inland to Cantwaraburh to pick up supplies and I would travel with them. The journey was uneventful, although we would occasionally see Frankish raiders in the distance. I had been warned many times that these Franks were very dangerous folks but they didn't look that bad. The legionnaires back in Rome were far more imposing and indefinitely better organized. Nonetheless none of my caravan had much interest in rushing up to engage the barbarians with a just a couple of sticks and rocks. There was only one real weapon between us and even that was just a rusty blade in the hands of a merchant.

As we entered the town my first feeling was simple amusement. It was nothing like Rome. Every building was simply logs topped with thatch, even the protective wall around the town wasn't stone. The guards were dressed in cloth and leather, often wielding badly made spears and clubs. Did a club really still count as a weapon? It was amusing to think these savages had once driven us from Briton.

I split off from the caravan as soon as we got to the market. We said our farewells and I headed off along one of the side roads in hopes of finding the palace. As I was about to walk away one of the boys I had traveled with tossed me a pouch containing 100 shillings and told me it was a gift from Father Morris. A small smile grew on my face as I wondered down the nearest road, tossing the pouch up and catching it repeatedly. It was nice to know that Morris was still looking out for me. Unfortunately that little pouch brought more trouble than it was worth. Though it was my own fault for flaunting it in what I thought was an empty road. The man who came out of the alley showed a madness in his eyes I had never seen before.

I would later learn to recognize this madness as the madness that takes your heart right before you kill a man for the first time and I would sympathize with this thief. However, at that moment all I felt was the hard knock from the shaft of an axe against my head. My eyesight went blurry as I fell to the ground and the last thing I saw before losing consciousness was a group of guards coming around the corner. It seemed the lord still held favor towards me.

I awoke a few hours later feeling like I was standing inside of a ringing bell. The inside of my head was pulsating and my body was fiercely vibrating. In reality I was in Eadbald's longhouse. Nearby three men stood talking. One was a Bishop wearing an eyepatch. He seemed to be getting on in age and had apparently reached the point where basic grooming no longer mattered to him. Next to him was an incredibly tall, dark haired man with a beard. The barbarian had more art on his chest than most cathedrals had on their walls. Oddly enough Eadbald was the least noticeable person in the room. His long platinum hair covered most of his face and his beard was subtle and well kept. He certainly looked like a Lord. Not like a Roman lord, all imposing and threatening, but like a lord out of the old tales, friendly and welcoming. He smiled warmly as he caught me out of the corner of his eye.​

"You've awakened. How are you feeling?"
"Like someone dropped the commandments on my head." My answer seemed to satisfy him and he introduced himself.
"I am Cyning Eadbald Aethelberhting, ruler of Cantware and lord of Cantwaraburh. I'm assuming you're Balbus?"​

Cyning Eadbald Aethelberhting, ruler of Cantware and lord of Cantwaraburh? I had heard sermons shorter than this man's introduction. How were savages who couldn't even read supposed to remember a name like that?

"Yes, mi'lord. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"It's good to have you with us Balbus. A lot of my men still believe in the Old Gods but I'm hoping you can help change that. Bishop Paulinus has done a lot to help convert the locals but soldiers are far more stubborn in their beliefs and we don't stay in town long enough for him to help them. An army unified in religion in a far more cooperative army."

A more cooperative army? Shouldn't the important thing be saving their souls? Their was something about the way Eadbald spoke of religion that just rubbed me the wrong way. We talked for a while longer and then he sent me off to to the barracks so I could meet his troops.

I wish I could say they were a good bunch of men. However there was just short of four hundred men. I fear saying that they were a good bunch of men would be generalizing too much. I will, however, say that they were rowdy. And loud. And an incredibly friendly group. I was surprised at how welcome I was among them considering my purpose here. That night a couple of men gathered around the fire with instruments. When I asked to join in one of them even handed me his Lyre. By the end of the night I was being referred to as The Lord's Bard. That night is one of my fondest memories from my days with Eadbald.

***February 24th***
We left in the early morning. I had told Eadbald about those Frankish raiders I'd seen along the coastline and he decided to go clear them out. We found them only an hour outside of the city. It scared me to think they had gotten so close without anyone noticing. I found out later that they had taken out Cantwaraburh's patrol the previous night. I had underestimated the Franks.

Eadbald split his men into groups of approximately one hundred. Apparently the way it worked was Eadbald would lead one group of men and if these men failed another group would follow. I wasn't sure the purpose of this at the time, I thought maybe it was to minimize causalities. I was horrified when I was informed I'd be going into battle with the first group. The men assured me that if I stayed in the back I'd be fine. Still I pleaded with Eadbald to let me stay out of the battle. He simply handed me a club and responded with "How are you supposed to lead them men spiritually if you do not understand their plight?" He did make a good point.

The battle would take place mostly on hilly grassland. There was a lake nearby but I don't think anybody felt it was necessary to get wet. I did my best to stay back during the battle and managed to avoid getting hurt, or having to hurt someone else. Still I can tell you that is not what I was expecting a skirmish to be like. For some reason I was expecting a lot less blood. Whenever I had envisioned combat I had somehow managed to forgot that people bleed. It terrified me. I mostly stood in a state of shock as my friend's weapons turned red with blood that drained from the Frank's chain shirts. The blood would ride along their blades like a stream. A axe being pulled from someone's head came with chunks of skull and brain. It wasn't heroic and it wasn't even gory. It was just so real.

That wasn't even the worst of it. Our men defeated the Franks without much effort. The nurses were sent to the field where I awaited them standing among a pile of bodies. Let me tell you, it isn't the dead bodies that get you. Your mind writes them off as if they are no longer human. It's the living, scattered among the dead, too wounded to move, that get to you. It's the men who have to live with their wounds. I recognized the face of the man who had let me borrow his lyre the previous night among the wounded. A spear had punctured his arm. It was bad and to make it worse the arm had been infected. As I stood over him preparing to amputate he looked up at me and said, with a small chuckle "You can keep the Lyre Preacher."

***March 17***
Cyning Eadbald spent a lot of time patrolling for a guy with such a large army. It seemed to me like he could use his forces for better things, like say the war with Gewissae. However for some reason he insisted on dealing solely with Frankish raiders. We'd taken out two or three groups of raiders since my first battle. Eadbald seemed to have some perverse pleasure for sending me into the battle with the rest of his men. He even gave me a sling and told me I was a real soldier now. Remember what I said about Eadbald being friendly? It's a facade. He certainly had a lot of charisma though.

On the 17th of March we found ourselves another group of raiders near the coast. I still hadn't got used to the bloodshed so, as I always did, I pleaded with Eadbald to let me stay back with the nurses. As you can imagine, he ignored my pleas saying that my presence raised morale. If you're wondering how a Christian raised morale in a group mostly made up of pagans it's because I kept hitting myself in the face with my sling and they got a good laugh out of that.

Once again, we had an army that now consisted of over four hundred men and we were facing off against a group of only 23. There wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind we'd win this battle. The terrain in this area just like before except it was covered in trees, which Eadbald complained about. "Oh woe is me, I might actually have to get off my horse!" Despite his complaints he still rode his horse into battle.

A couple of raiders broke off from the main group to attack our archers. Tired of getting laughed and watching people die, I decided to charge them with my staff. I managed to hit one of the raiders on the head hard enough that he fell to the ground. I got excited. And a little cocky. Not a great mix. The second raider was moments away from plunging his axe into my skull when suddenly an arrow sprouted from his mouth. A close call and a rather shocking sight. Still, the adrenaline was pumping and I was ready for another fight. My next move was rushing headlong into the group of Franks that were clashing with our infantry. I figured if I came up behind them they'd be too distracted to fight back.

I was wrong. The raider I tried to sneak up on turned around and with minimal effort stuck a spear into the side of my chest. It was my first time being wounded in combat and my reaction was not at all dignified. At first it wasn't bad. A small sting as the spear entered my flesh and some pressure against my ribs as the spear tip found it's way between two of them. For a few seconds the whole thing felt like an out of body experience. I looked down at the spear, I saw the spear, but the spear didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

And then felt all too real all at once. The raider ripped the weapon from my body and I let out a scream that they heard all the way in Rome. Not like a masculine scream either. A scream that sounded like a little girl who heard a loud noise in the dark. I clutched my ribs as I fell to the ground. Tears streamed down my face and I started making this high pitched wailing noise that the men described as a dying cat mating with a swallow inside of a bucket. They never let me live that down.

It didn't take much to patch me up. The spear hadn't gone more than an inch in. Even the nurses got a good giggle out of the whole experience. From then on whenever we went back to town the soldiers would drag me down to the training pit.

 

[krisvk]

About his age I thought sixteen + how old he was when he was abandoned, though I first noticed that 16 after reading the prologue twice.

I really like the story so far. I think you have convinced me to give the resting feature a chance, thank you.