NationStates Jolt Archive

The Frozen Throne

Head of State: Rachejk
Consort: N/A
Heir Apparent: N/A
Territory: Half of Modern Day Scandinavia, Select Counties in Ireland
Religion: Norse Paganism
Capital: Oslo
Languages: Norse
Allies:
Royal Marriages:
Enemies:

Armed Forces
*Note. Weapons such as spears do exist in great number. As do horses. Norse Raiders can convert to spearmen, javelin throwers or cavalry.

The Frozen Horde
Commanding General... Rachejk

8,000 Norse Raiders... Veterans of the Norse Revolution
x1 Sword or Hand Axe (Torch Also Common)
x1 Circular Wooden Shield Braced with Iron
x1 Dagger
x1 Set of Scale/Chain Mail/Studded Leather Armor
x1 Iron Battle Helmet
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

1,000 'Barbaric' Raiders... Veterans of the Norse Revolution Exalted by Rachejk for Exemplary Service
x1 Large Double Sided Battle Axe
x1 Shortsword
x1 Set of Scale/Chain Mail/Studded Leather Armor
x1 Iron Battle Helmet
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

3,000 'Longmen'... Veterans of the Norse Revolution Keen with a Bow
x1 Hunting Bow & Arrows
x1 Shortsword
x1 Studded Leather Armor
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

Various Costal Raiding Cities
Commanding Generals... Various Lieutenants of the Revolution

7,000 Norse Raiders... Veterans of the Norse Revolution
x1 Sword or Hand Axe (Torch Also Common)
x1 Circular Wooden Shield Braced with Iron
x1 Dagger
x1 Set of Scale/Chain Mail/Studded Leather Armor
x1 Iron Battle Helmet
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

500 'Barbaric' Raiders... Veterans of the Norse Revolution Exalted by Rachejk for Exemplary Service
x1 Large Double Sided Battle Axe
x1 Shortsword
x1 Set of Scale/Chain Mail/Studded Leather Armor
x1 Iron Battle Helmet
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

500 'Longmen'... Veterans of the Norse Revolution Keen with a Bow
x1 Hunting Bow & Arrows
x1 Shortsword
x1 Studded Leather Armor
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

Inner Mountain Mining Cities
Commanding Generals... Various Lieutenants of the Revolution

2,000 Norse Raider... Veterans of the Norse Revolution
x1 Sword or Hand Axe (Torch Also Common)
x1 Circular Wooden Shield Braced with Iron
x1 Dagger
x1 Set of Scale/Chain Mail/Studded Leather Armor
x1 Iron Battle Helmet
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

1,000 'Longmen'... Veterans of the Norse Revolution Keen with a Bow
x1 Hunting Bow & Arrows
x1 Shortsword
x1 Studded Leather Armor
x1 Studded Leather Boots and Gloves

Bererker Clans of the East

~1,500 Berserkers... Crazed Nomadic Warriors armed with unlimited knoledge in brutal warfare. Not Controlled by any force. No one knows their leader. No one knows where they live. They are accompanied by wild dogs and wolves, and raid both Norse and Swedish Cities for unknown reasons.
x2 Swords/Hand Axes/Spears/Daggers/Sharp Objects/Whatever they can get their hands on
x1 Set of a combination of leather armor and animal fur clothing
xUnlimited Amanita muscaria. A Mushroom-Like Herb which drives the average man into a complete state of rage and insanity. The nerves of these men go dead, leaving them immune to pain. In this state they are literally uncontrollable, and are driven into a permanant insanity after repeated use.

The Revolution - Pre Frozen Throne

Small Camp Outside Bode, Northern Norway

"Fuckin' Oswald is ruining our land with his filthy Christianity...", Rachejk smacked the side of a tree, talking to three other men as they chopped fire wood. "Did our forefathers practice this nonsense? Eh? NO! They were brave warriors... the terror of Europe... and now what? We chop wood and roast pig, waiting for sunday when we can go to mass... it's nonsense.", the large, bearded Norseman bellowed out as he swung his massive axe into the tree yet again.

"I dont see why we simply dont stop going...", Kurtz grumbled out as he tossed a few bundles of wood into the back of an oxe cart.

"Because shorty... if the rest of them turn to this rabble, and we dont, we are ostrasized. And once they get stronger, they'll get braver, and they'll force it on us. By Odin, what have we come to?", Rachejk spoke again, striking another massive blow against the tree, using every ounce of his 275lb frame to shake the tree.

"Bah you fool Rachejk, its a wonder the clan has'nt kicked ya out on yer ass yet. All this rabble talk 'll get ye head knocked off.", the man known as Svieje chuckled out, tending to a ox. "Bet ya the Berserkers dont practice any Christianity.", all four men belowed out laughing at the mans statement, "Get feckin' blood all over de' Pope's pretty robes! HA!", the men continued to laugh out for several minutes, until an eary silence overtook them.

"Are there any Berserkers left?"... "No fool, they're all dead fifty years ago."... "What? No! They ran into the mountains, ostrasized themselves to escape Christian Civilization... but by Oden, they still live."... "Feckin moron, they're dead since Oswalt sent his goons up ere' to knock em out."... "You think Oswalt's boys could kill the friggen Berserks? You nuts boy?"... Hours later, the general consensus in the group was that the Berserkers were actually alive, but somwhere in Asia.

Frankard the Clean, the Clan trader, walked out of the woods into the clearing, and shouted out, spooking the oxe, nearly causing it to kick out. "EY BOYS! How gos it?", "Christ you mut, you're gonna kill my damn oxe.", Rachejk bellowed at the man, holding his double sided battle axe above his head. Frankard, being a man of small stature, chuckled nervously before continuing, "You boys ere' bout' de news in Bode? The friken Pope in Bode-", "Frankard, the Popes in Rome.", "No, not that Pope, the feckin Pope in Bode.", "There is no Pope in Bode ya pig face. Theres only one Pope.", "Eh whatever the feck ya call em... de' Bishop... Bishop O'Ryan, that dirty Irish prick... he and his fancy lil' goons... they says we need to make a Parish out ere'!"

Rachejk hit the tree again, however, this time left the axe in the tree, and turned to Frankard, as did the other three men. "What?", "Ya... dey' also made sunday mass cumpulsory. Cumpulsory! That means we've got to go!", "I know what it means you runt... and im tellin you right now, there aint gonna be no Parish in out camp, and we aint goin to no mass unless we want to go to bloody mass."

"Thats what the boys back at camp are saying... they just dont know what to do bout' it.", Frankard coughed out as Rachejk and his companions loaded the wagon and headed off for camp.

The Camp - Home of 229 People - 14 Miles Outside Bode

"Alright! Settle Down! Settle down you savages!", Rachejk stood upon a large crate, looking out at the assembly of some eighty men, all yelling over various issues. "Aperantly friken Oswalt is'nt happy with just having his Christianity, now he wants us all to have it. And we aint got a choice in the matter. I for one say, Oswalt can suck my cold hairy cock!", Rachejk roared out, causing the assembly to begin laughing. "I say we go to Bode tonight, and show them bastards what we think of their religion. I say we go on in, and show them what we think of their demands, and their violation of our liberty! I say we burn the bastard down!", Rachejk was greeted by a roar of approval, a unified voice throughout the clan, somthing not seen very often.

Bode,3:45 AM

"There it is... go one now, throw the torch in!", Frankard fumbled witht he flaming ember, before handing it to the man next to him. "Sorry mate... im not the one to throw the first rock...", the next man holding the torch, passed it too, and the next, and the next...

"Are you little rats forgetting what we came here for? Let me remind you!", Rachejk yelled out, kicked in the door of the monestary, and threw two torches in, which clattered ont the stone floor of the monestary. One priest already awake, stopped dead. Two more rushed out, followed by an alter boy and two nuns. "Alright people! Which one of you is Bishop O'Ryan!? Which one of you bastards thinks he can order us about?!" No response.

Minutes later, the monestary was in flames, the clergy dead and impaled on wooden spikes outside the chruch. As the men looted and yelled about, stealing and boozing on mass wine, Rachejk and his men drove the crucifix from the monestary into teh ground, and doused it in lighting oil. It was then ignited as the local Militia arrived to the sight of a burning cross, and a group of blood soaked men. The men which had arrived, about sixty in number, charged forward in total unorganization against the well armed mob, carrying only clubs and pitchforks, Every one of the sixty were dead or dying as only eight of Rachejk's number fell.

Blood covered the street the morning after, scaring the entire city into temporary religious submission. For a time after the incident, the 'Christians' of Bode would'nt say a word displaying the fact. Praying quickly died off as those that did turned up dead in the streets. Terror had struck the town, as the town Militia began organzing. Twelve days after the attack, they were 410 in total, armed with shortswords, hand axes and clubs. Partols were constant, for nobody knew which clan had launched the raid... many believed it to be the spirits of fallen Norse Warriors, come to wreak havoc upon those that betrayed the old ways... other believed the Berserks had returned... the latter was a far mor fearful fate.

OOC: Good. A little less profanitywould be nice but good all the same...

IC: Alfonso had recently learned that the Norse were once again ransacking monasterys and killing clergymen but this time in their own country. I always knew the damn barbarians would never get it right... He had heard of the massacre that had happened a month earlier and knew that Oswald would probably get some militia together and do absolutely nothing with them. He decided to send a letter by way of a merchant ship. The letter read...

Oswald,
It has come to my attention that your fellow norse'men' have ravaged the clergy and a monastery in Bode, even killing the Bishop. If you do not get your shit together I will send 750 Militiamen to you. They will assist in turning back the rebelious. Ifthis does not help then I am sure that the Pope will be glad to pardon the sins of those that kill the rebels in the name of Jesus Christ.

Alfonso

The quick, angry script almost came to life with his anger and frustration. He gave it to a trusted merchant friend, Garcia de Lara, who immediately took the letter to Norway...

Some weeks later in Bode...

"I have an urgent letter for King Oswald from King Alfonso VI of Castile. I seek an audience with the King to deliver the letter as my King commanded."

He waited for the guards reply...

As the Messenger Horse travelled it would be months before the Kievans would here of the Massacre in Bode, instead a Horse had reached Norways capitol, if any assistance could be found for the True Prince of Kiev than it would be here.

A small boy only 12 had found the main gate, he bashed away at it until he was answered.

(Eh, they're Norse folk, what do you expect. Ill asume the messengers went to Oslo, the Capital. Bode is a backwood, relatively minor Norse city, way, way up north, no where near most civilization.)

Oslo, Norway

The Royal Guards quickly took the Spaniard to the king, whom had already began his breakfast as the merchant entered the room. "What is this? I said no interuptions until after noo-.", Oswald was cut short by Captain McDonald, whom handed the Spaniard's scroll to the king.

After reading it, he called for his scribe, and had a reply sent. Truth be told, Oswald had blown the incident off the moment he heard of it. The local lord, a veteran in many conflicts against the Danes, was expected to take care of the minor, minor problem, when in reality, even he ignored it a matter of minor concern.

Dear King Alfonso,
My Dear friend, I am afraid the curse of gossip has turned a most minor incident into a tale of revolution. The 'rebellion' of which you speak, is little more than an organized grouping of bandits which has striken one of our frontier cities, well out of the way of true Norse Civilization. As you surely know, maintaining control over one's nation is a difficult task, a worthy king must surely keep an all watching eye on his people. If this were truly a revolt, it would have been ended long ago.

The massacre of the Bodeian Clergy is a result of greed and drunken lust. The Finnish Bandits whom commited the evil deed will surely be destroyed by the time this letter reaches your lands, and all will be back to normal in the Christian lands of Norway. While we appreciate the offer of Spanish Aid, it is most certainly not nessecary.

(As of yet, this would be an extremely minor incident. A raid on a small city up in the tundra of northern Norway, an area infested with bandits. Few would even suspect possible rebellion, a bandit raid is far more likely.)

The Gates

The boy at the gates however, being of no importance, and of great annoyance to the guards, was kicked in the ribs by a guard, and thrown into the moat outside the castle. "Get lost ya runt!", yelled one of the gate guards, who literally picked the boy up by his britches and threw him down the snowy hill into the frigid water.

6 Miles East of Bode

400 Armed Militiamen walked through the snow covered forests of Bode, looking for any traces of the raiders they could find. It had been several weeks since the raid, but the people had not forgotten it. They were in a sort of premafrost of fear, unable to move on until they knew the barbarians who commited this treasonous act were fallen. Thane of Bode, Lord Garithos trudged dreadfully up the large hill, of which they had seen smoke from days earlier. However, chances the raiders remained were slim, they never stayed in one place for long, always ambushing caravans, raiding small settlements, then dissapearing into the fog.

Garithos turned to his Chief Lieutenant, whom yelled at the men as they slipped in the muddy snowiness of the land. The hill was near unscalable due to these conditions, but up they went. "Which direction do you believe they've gone Franz?", Garithos questioned the man. "Sire, by the time we-", the Lieutenant slipped in the mud, using his sword as a prop, stoof back up and continued. "By the time we get up the damned hill, they'll have sacked Rome.", Garithos laughed, as he heard the Lieutenant slip again. "Get on your feet lad, we're nearly there.", no response. "You hear me?", Garithos turned, only to see his Lieutenant on his back, sliding down the hill with an arrow in hsi neck. "AMBUSH!", was the cry of the men, as yet another man dropped. Arrows rained down upon them, the men not sure if they were fired in an arch from the top of the hill, if men were hidden in the trees, or if it was the trees themselves which attacked, but one thing was for sure. Arrows were flying into the ranks of the militia at a constant pace.

Within a minute, twenty had fallen dead, fifteen others had been injured as the militia desperatly attempted to scale the muddy slide. "FORWARD LADS! Lets kill em!", Garithos yelled as he took several steps forward, before slipping and falling on his face. After ten minutes of insolent stubborness, the Militia, ignoring Garithos' command, turned tale and ran like hell down the hill, slipping and falling at every interval.

Then, a massive horn sounded. A massive horn of the old country, as a long man, a giant of a man, sounded a bull horn with one hand, and held a two handed battle axe above his head with the other. "CHARGE", were the only words distinguishable, as Rachejk pointed his axe forward, and jumped upon his horse. He road down the hill at an amazing pace, and caught up with the militia in a matter of seconds. In one massive swing, he caught a man square in the back, lodging his axe into his spinal cord. The large Norseman then withdrew a smaller hand axe, and cleaved a slice out of another man's neck, only to be followed by hitting another on his shoulder as his horse knocked a man dead with its gallop. 42 mounted barbarians charged down the hill after the stumbling militia, appearing far greater in number due to the circumstances.

Once the militia reached the 'safety' of the hill base, they would turn to look at what pursued them. Those that did'nt immidietly recieve an axe to the face, saw a horde of men and men on horses, charging down the hill. When one looked back at the men on foot, he saw them armed, muddy, and charging. He saw them as barbarians. He continued to run into the forest. No resistance was effectively put up, as none knew who was with who, they knew only that men were slaughtered left and right. By the time the last of the militia had reached the base of the hill, 95 were dead, 133 wounded, and 62 lost in the wilderness, either to die alone or to find a village and abandon the militia. 285 casualties, inflicted by 72 men. Of Rachejk's number. Six were taken. Nine injured. Rachejk, now unofficially the clan leader, lead over 245 men after a number of smaller clans and villages had joined him, out of a mixture of Anti-Catholicism and fear. The others however, were not present at the fight.

The 243 whom survived the fight, 133 of them wounded, returned without Garithos. The people now were frightened byeond normal recognition. In addition to their first hand expiriences, they had the stories the militia told to add to their paranoia. However, nothing before would scare them as much as the next attack...

Two days after the 'Slaughter at Slippery Hill', a wagon, pulled by two bloodied men, rolled into the town. The two men were militia, with scars covering their bodies, but still alive never the less. Their wrists and arms were tied to the wooden 'pulls' of the wagon, as crows and other such birds flocked around them. As they entered the town, they displayed a wagon full of severed limbs, heads and bodily organs. Blood creating a path 6 miles away from Bode. Fingers and feet lining this path. The wagon, surrounded by Raven (The Bird of the Norse God Odi), carried a massive banner inscribed in blood. The banner read... "We are the Eijedran, warriors of the Gods. Odin has sent us to punish you for betraying the ways of the ancestors. It will not end until your treachery has." The banner... the cart... the bloddied bound militia men whom pulled it. A living nightmare out of some freakish story. The people, along with the militia, believed it to be the Eijedran, and not the work of men.

Praying to the God of Christianity was not saving them. It was notlong before Runes and Sacrifices to Odin were erected throughout the city. Somthing was happening.

OOC::eek:

IC: Alfonso had just arrived back from hunting when he saw his old friend Garcia. "Good news or bad?" "Well your majesty, when I left good. Apparently it was only some bandits and the story was exasterbated by the time it arrived here but as we stopped at ports we were dogged by reports of sacrificeing and runes in the same city. I believe that it is once again just mindless gossip as King Oswald said. Anyway here is the message he sent back."

As Alfonso read he became slightly more disgusted at every line. How could a man care so little about the frontier and nation he is supposed to protect? He IS mad. Of course Alfonso was compareing himself to a man that wasn't in the middle of a reconquista and whos nation was mostly backwoods farming villages. He decided that the message required no answer. However if he heard any more nasty rumours he would keep his promise...

The boy coughed up blood and walked back up the hill, he had been asked to deliver this message by any circumstance, the future of Kievan Rus' depended upon it.

"I am Prince Vladimir of the Yaroslav clan of Kiev, we call upon your assistance fellow Scandinavian Christians, if this pledge is not met then truly all honour has been lost in your nation."

The prince spat once more to the ground hoping that the Guards had heard his plee and would open up, thier Honour had just been challenged.

Oslo, Outside the Gates of Oswald's Castle

"A prince?! A prince with no guards? No entourage? No fancy lil' trumpet players?! Christ, if you're a prince, im de' friggen Pope!", yelled out the guard, as he and his partner laughed out, pausing only when the distant sound of trumpets had been heard. "Shit! Eric is back... Scram kid, we've gota be lookin shiny."

Two loud trumpets sounded as prince Eric's convoy marched towards the gates, twenty armored men marched infront, and behind the carriage as nights road to the front of the caravan to display papers. The young Russian Prince was left standing off to the side as the gates were hauled open, and the caravan entered. By a magnificant stroke of luck, Eric caught a glimpse of the boy trough his window as he passed through. "Stop! Stop the caravan."

The Prince, for some reason unknown to all, opened the carriage door, and stepped out? Who are you lad? And why do you linger about the gates of my father?"

Bode

Rachejk and a group of fifty men walked into Bode, weapons in hand, war paint applied, ready for battle. However, as they entered the town, they found not a living soul. The town, which usually bustled with trade, was seemingly vacant. An erie silence clung to the city, one which was broken by the most dreadful sound of some animal screaming. "Come lads... we'll see what this is about.", growled Sven the Boar, as he pulled out his second hand axe, and walked alongside Rachejk towards the town center.

Once there, they encountered the people. All in some massive mob, chanting at designated intervals. The source of the scream was seen. A bloodied goat lay on a wooden platform as the crowd, over 1,000 in number, turned to witness the soldiers, 115 total. Behind the massive crowd, stood a fifteen foot wooden model of Odin.

"I am Rachejk. Son of Gilthore. General of Odin. I have been sent by the Eijedrin to take you from the curse of Christianity, and back to the ways of the old country.", the massive Norseman bellowed out, battleaxe in hand. The large crowd, formerly silent with dread, cheered in a unanimous voice. Events had conspired in Bode, many, many events. Garithos' family had been murdered. As had all known prominent Christian Families. Any religious Christian book was burned, as were any symbols of the faith. Their fear had driven them a not so far step backwards, into the arms of Norse Mythology.

The surrounding villages were by no means immune to the effects of the terror. Small settlements, camps and villages surrounding Bode also turned, not only from fear, but from pride. Their lives had faired no better under the rule of Christ than under Odin. Only Odin had brought them battle and glory, where as Christianity had brought them Sunday Mass.

Within a week, Rachejk had assumed 'leadership' of the city, taken to be a prophet of Odin, a man not to be reckoned with, he actually proved quite effective at getting the town up and running. However, it was not long before he and his men were preparing for a departure, his eyes fell on Nervik, and all lands in between.

Nervik, 2:20 AM, Four Days After the Fall of Bode

Three wagons rolled into the city, twelve men along with them. The city guards, whom were doubled in number, allowed them through, inspecting the caravan, seeing it to carry nothing but grain from the south. The wagon moved onward, deeper into the city. The city was all but silent now. Every home locked up tightly, the local watch kept vigilant from fear. Always they looked to the snowy forests, always waiting for a hail of fire to rain down upon them, alwyas waiting for the Eijedren to charge from the trees and knock down the walls. Fear ran through their veins.

As the wagons rolled by the city monestary, the wheels came to a halt. Two guards, each carrying a pike, stiffened to attention. "What be your business? Keep movin ye-", the first guard's neck was slit, as his body was dragged into the shadows. The second, after turning to see what had befallen his comrade, was impaled through the back of the neck by a dagger. The pikes were taken, as were the helmets and scale mail. Rachejk then toar off the woolen flap of one of the wagons, displaying a pile of grain. The wagon was of considerable length, 13 feet long at least. The norseman then brushed aside a slight amount of grain, revealing a wooden surface. Several other men did the same, until all the grain previously covering the wooden object, was gone, and all that remained was a statue of Odin. The statue was quickly erected infront of the monestary, which was now alit, as a priest opened the door. He was stubbed through the chest, and thrown into a pile along with the guards and nun accompanying him.

From the second wagon were taken three pots of oil. Frankerd, Sven three more men began dousing the inards of the monestary with the brown liquid, until it stank of the city. The monestary was looted, as a crate of gold, containing indulgence money and tithe funds was siezed along with mass wine and bread.

A minute later, screams were heard not far away. Then the sound of horses galloping.Ten men on horseback entered the area, all quickly jumping from their mounts and approching the chest. The loot was divided equally among the ten riders, who took the money, and galloped off, towards the city gates. Rachejk held his torch up, gazing into the flame, and after what seemed like an enternity, hurled the flame into the oil covered church, setting it to fire.

Rachejk and those whom did not leave the city, divided up, hiding in various taverns, alley ways and inns. Coming late to the scene the next morning. A scene equally shocking to the last. Infront of the desecrated church, stood a 10 foot monument, equal in stature to the ones of old, of Odin. Around the statue, were fallen men. The two guards, and seven clergy, all impaled upon wooden spikes, forming a circle around the monument. Their blood formed a pool which covered fifty square feet. The city guards and townspeople stood in a terrorable awe. A message was sent to Alta, the stronghold of the Noth. The home of 1,000 warriors. Help was needed, however, the people had already begun to take matters into their own hands, and began withdrawing the ancient relics of the old country, and mumbling the chants of the pagan times.

Oslo, The Kings Royal Dinner

A box was set upon the table, with a note of urgent attention. Inside the box, lay Lord Garithos' head. It was time he took the situation seriously.

Prince Vladimir knelt before the other Prince, laying beside him his sword and bow.

"I am Prince Vladimir of the Yaroslav Clan of Kiev, I come to ask assistance from our Scandinavian cousins."

Vladimir looked around and realised he'd missed somthing.

"I was not given an entorage as every avaliable man has been sent into combat, please assist us."

Oslo, Outisde the Gates

"Fighting? A prince? Lad, where is your mother, you'll worry her sick. Run on home child, it is'nt safe to be out in this cold.", The prince turned to his carriage, as a guard carrying Lord Garithos' head strolled by. "Soldier! What the hell do you carry in your fists?", the Prince barked out sternly, calling the armor plated man to attention. "Head Sir. From Bode. Lord Garithos'.", replied the guard. The Prince's face lost all color. "My cousins head... who... who did this?", "Rebels sir... they've taken Bode and are attacking Nervik... your father instructed me to dispose of the head and call you to his side. He says it urgent that he speak with you." Eric immidietly entered his carriage, and entered the castle gates along with his carivan. The two original guards looked at the Russian Prince, "Scram kid."

(Just tryin to be realistic. I mean, what kind of king is going to let a lone 12 year old boy, claiming to be the prince of Russia, in to speak with him.)

Nervik

Terror had struck the city. For the last two weeks, massive fog horns, such as those used by the Eijedrin, sounded off at random intervals in the night. The horns would start around ten o'clock. Then once an hour, on the hour, till five o'clock in the morning, they would come closer. Horns loud enough to be heard throughout the city.

In addition to this, came a far more erie attack. Wolves. Packs of wolves would roam into the city in the thick of night, as if searching for prey. This was most unusual, as the beasts usually avoided the city like the plague. However, Rachejks men took it upon themselves to take the organs of killed animals, and create blood trails to the city, luring in all sorts of beasts. The human interference was unkown to all the city, and taken the work of evil spirits... or Odin.

The most violent of the attacks was without argument, the nightly murders. Every single morning, a new body was found impaled upon a stake infront of the statue of Odin, which had been untouched sinse it's arrival. These bodies were usually bled out through the neck and wrists, killed by a wooden spike through the abdomen. The city had reached the edge of Paranoia, as pagan rituals became more and more common. Old pagan symbols had begun showing up on the sides of buildings, a type of primitive graffiti which was never erased or taken down, for the ones who did... found their homes up in flames.

After a full month of the terror, a message, inscribed in blood was written upon a large banner that covered the gates to the Duke's Keep. Upon it was written. "I require the head of the Duke. Anything less shall result in the death of 500 of your number." News of the banner spread like wildfire throughout the city, as it took three hours for it to be removed. The Duke, a paranoid, small man had hid in his 'Palace' since the begining of the troubles, doubling his guard, taking from the regular city guard to increase his own protection. The people were not so happy about their leaders weakness, and took the message very seriously.

9:00 PM, Nervik, Outside the Gats of the Duke's Manor

One hundred and eighty armed men had ammassed outside the gates. Weilding axes, swords, torches, spears and pitchforks, they demanded the Captain of the Duke's guard turn over the Duke, or face death. After stern refusal from the captain, the leader of themob, Rachejk, unexpectedly impaled the guard through the chest with a sword. The mob now ignited, as guards retreated to the keep. The gates were quickly knocked down, and the gathering of men charged the keep. Archers plucked off rebels as the wooden gates suffered heavily from axe and mini-battering rams. After some fifteen minutes of hammering, the gates fell, and the keep was stormed, looted, and destroyed. The head of the Duke was bruned on a mini-altar infront of the massive statue, and Rachejk was taken, once again to be a prophet of Odin.

As Rachejk finished a rather long speech to the towns people, he recieved news. Prince Eric the Bold was heading north at the head of 3,000 Men.

[OOC Sorry to be a nitpick, but as a RL Norwegian, it's a bit annoying to read you writing the city names completely wrong. For instance, it's "Bodø", not "Bode". You could write it as "Bodo" or "Bodoe". Both are acceptable. Also, it's "Narvik", not "Nervik". Anyway, enough of the spelling nazi. This is a very interesting RP. Which "group" do you belong to anyway? EM = ....? Anyway, sorry for hijacking.]

OOC: Earth Medieval...the OOC is called Medieval RP OOC/Sign Up

(OOC: oh I understand completely, well RPed)

Vladimir grimaced, the young Prince had come all this way for nothing, he got onto his Horse and rode back Southwards, his Father had probably began to worry about his least favorite sons wherabouts anyway.

(OOC: I'll be back mark my words I'll be back :P)

OOC: The map from which I take the names is quite difficult to read, thus, 'Bode' and 'Nervik' were formed. Not about to go through all my posts and root out the spelling of cities, but from now on, ill try to check on the names of cities.

IC:

The Battle of Deep Pit

Both Narvik and Bodo had fallen to Norse Paganism. The months of work put in by Rachejk and his men had seemed to be paying off, however, it all seemed to be coming to an end. Eric was a mere fifty miles away, with 3,200 men. 3,200 Soldiers. This was a professional army, not a mere assemblage of Militia, as seen in previous conflicts. Rachejk had, at the absolute most, 1,000 men. Of these 1,000, 900 of them were little more than armed militia, driven into combat through fear, and pride in their reversion to paganism. The only 100 with any hope at all of providing real opposition were Rachejk's Elites. Originaly only 40 in number, the best of Narvek, Bodo and the surrounding lands were taken in and 'knighted' Elites.

Of Rachejk's 1,000, 600 were armed with a variation of a sword and wooden shield, a hand axe and wooden shield, or a hand axe and a sword. 100 were armed with nothing but axes. Whether they be standard wood chopping axes, or ancient battle axes, only half the men wielding them were expirienced in their use. 100 of Rachejks army wielded spears and short swords. (60 Iron Tipped, battle grade spears, 40 wooden spears) The archers, numbering 100 worked both as archers, whom were actually expirienced in their use due to life times of hunting, doubled as light infantry, taking up hand axes and short swords when needed. The final 100, Rachejk's Elite, were the only cavalry of the army. Armed with javelins, hand axes, swords and either mail or leather armor, they provided some military opposition.

Two days later, the armies met. 25 miles south of Bodo sat an open feild, covered in a light layer of snow. Surrounded on either side by dense clusters of trees, the armies lined up. 3,200 trained, professional soldiers, preparing to march on 1,000 militia. Rachejk road infront of his force, upon his black stallion, looking down at 'army' upon which the fate of Norway depended on. "Men of Norway... today we fight... we fight not for money, nor land, nor power, nor for Odin himself. Today we fight for our people, our heritage, our forefathers. Europa has been changed by the filthe of Rome, by the corruption of Rome. For an age we of Norway have been able to avoid it. We have beem able to withstand the invasion of not men, but words. However, we have fallen. We have fallen to Christian 'Civilization'. A civilization which deemed our forefathers barbarians and savages. Why then, do we accept them? Why do we fall to their lies? To their corruption? I will tell you. It is because the damned man in Oslo, our supposed king whom does nothing to protect us, that damned Oswalt has made his first priority destroying our history, our minds, and our true Gods. Odin watches upon us. In the past he has punished us. Now, he will protect us. Fight bravely my warriors, for today, many of us shall drink in Valhala. TO BATTLE!"

With the final words came a cheer of confidence, and the advance of enemy infantry. Over 200 heavy cavalry. Armed with iron shields, well crafted iron broad swords, long lances, mail, iron helmets and leather boots. All of them road forward in one uniform of light blue and yellow, in unison under a single flag. Heavy Cavalry were the bane of the modern army. Rachejk feared them more than any other unit. Nearly impenetrable from the arrow. Infantry fell to their might like rabits to wolves... Rachejk had but one hope against them.

The cavalry crossed mid field, and the enemy infantry slowly began their advance. Rachejk's Archers unleashed a volley of wood and iron into the sky, falling all around the enemy horseman, inflicting few casualties. The second hail of bolts had similar effects. The cavalry continued forward, through the snow, lowering their lances to decimate the rebel lines. "Thirty meters... twenty meters...", and then, what seemed to be half their number, dissapeared. As if the snow had come up and enveloped them, over 120 vanished. From the position of Eric, sitting on his mount a half mile away, it seemed as if a wall of snow jumped into the air, and a moment later, he held only 75 heavy cavalry. A moment later, from the ranks of the infantry, came a hail of primitive javelins, arrows, bolts and rocks. Many a horse fell, as an equal number of knights were knocked from their horses. By the time the heavy cavalry reached the line of spearmen, they number 34. Those thirty four took out their man, and if lucky another with their horse, but were quickly taken down by repetitive attacks from the infantry. What Eric did not know, is that Rachejk's men had been positioned here for three days. And had taken the time to dig hundreds of pits and trenches in a designated area of the field, then covered them with sticks and snow. The enemy cavalry were now impaled at the bottom of these pits be wooden spikes, or were simply trapped at the bottom. "Forward men."

The pits were mapped out, and the small section of the field covered with them, was crossed over as the infantry moved forward. The Elites had amassed infront of the army. "PREPARE TO DEFEND YOURSELVES!" The howling of wolves began in the forests, echoing onto the battlefield, foreshadowing the immenant doom that was to strike the land. Rachejk withdrew his battle axe as his horse grunted, Eric the Bold sat upon the hill, less than a half mile away, and ordered his infantry to advance. 2,800 infantry marched forward, towards the Rebel Lines. The howling increased as Rachejk ordered his men forward, his archers already having betrayed their bows for swords and axes. The armies rolled forward, the howling nearly drowning out the sounds of the armies. Until in a unison, the howls stopped. Rachejk looked to his right flank. Movement in the woodline. But what? His skirmishers were to strike from the rear, and that they would, 75 light infantry were fast approaching the enemies officer base and archer position.

But the movement in the tree line. What the hell was it. Rachejk checked his left flank, movement. The bloody Royal's had reinforcements... or so he though. Two hordes of men charged out... men? These men ran forward, bareskinned or clad in animal robes. They charged with axes and swords flailing, with a terrifying scream of mortal death. Over 300 of them, beastmen, savages, barbarians... Berserkers. Where in the name of god did they come from? They were gone, extinct, but no. There they were. Over 300 charged the flanks of the Royal Norse Army. Rachejk, along with the majority of his force, was stunned. But only momentarily. Siezing the opportunity, he ordered a charge on the confused front of the enemy.

Within moments, the javelins of the elite slammed into the armor of the Norse Infantry. Then came the infantry, clashing into battle with the enemy. The two armies toar into each other with unheard of vigor, tearing and clashing swords and axes, shields and spears. Blood soaked the ground, but it was not here the Norse feared defeat. It was their flanks.

The Berserkers, whose likes had not been seen in 80 years, fought with the rage of 10,000 volcano's. A sword toar into ones shoulder. The berserk impaled the man who held the sword with the same arm. He then recieved an arrow to the leg, followed by another. This caused the red faced man to growl, and swing his axe down upon another Royal, crushing his head. A spear entered the mans torso, exiting the other side of his body. The Berserk looked down at the weapon, then up at the man who held the spear. He merely grabbed the handle of the weapon, and pulled himself closer to the man, before biting hit nose with his own blood soaked teeth. Tearing the man's face apart before breaking off the shaft of the spear, stumbling around, and tackling another man. The berserks fought with unbelievable rage, one which was actually chemically induced, yet none other than the berserks knew. The rage covered the savages in a painless state of insanity. Death was the only force that could stop them, their nerves were cut off, they felt nothing. A severed artery which would disable a man, and end his life twenty minutes later, had the same end result on the berserk, however, the stage of disability was not evident. The fear this struck into the Royal's, the courage it required to fight a man with a sword in his stomach, who didn't show the slightest care of it, was unheard of in any modern army. The Royal's held a numerical superiority the entire battle. However, when the archers mistook Rachejk's skirmishers as another force of Berserks, they fled. Their fleeing caused Eric's guard to order his retreat from the field. When the infantry witnessed the carnage caused by the berserks, and their leader fleeing, the battle had already ended.

OOC: interesting... well have fun for now cus youll have 100,000 men comeing down on you when a crusade is called...

OOC: Do you recall the last time a Non-Scandinavian/Far Northern Country (Soviet Union) effectively invaded and occupied any major Scandinavian Country? Actually... it's never happened. Call a Crusade. Im gonna love to see Italians and Spaniards fighting in four foot deep snow, waiting for summer to come so they can launch an offensive... then they realise, there is no summer. And if some realism is added (we get a Turk RPer), Vikings will be the least of Europe's Problems. The Muslims threatened to conquer Southern Europe, and it was a very serious threat. Think the Pope is gonna send armies to Oslo when Rome is under Siege? Think again. In 1087 The Byzantine Empire was near collapse under the onslaught of the Seljuks. Spain was seriously under the influence of the Sultanate of Morocco, who had plans on France. The Calif of Egypt gained control of Sicily, and launched repeated assaults on Southern Italy... Greece was consantly assaulted. Crusade on Scandinavia? That ties up alot of troops far, far away from home. The Muslims are gonna be drooling at this opportunity, and take everything up to Paris within a year. Crusade Away!

OOC: Itd help if we had a turkic player...:headbang:

Outside The City of Mo, Three Weeks After the Battle of Deep Pit

Rachejk sat upon his steed, watching the city bustle with activity. Whether or not they would fight was unknown. Scenes from the Battle however, stuck in his mind like glue. The pictures of the Berserkers... terrified him. Blood soaked skin. Rage filled eyes. Blood vessels threatening to burst. Their clothing, if they had any, consisted of animal furs, which seemed to mold onto their skin. Once the battle had neared its end, and the Royals began retreating, Rachejk ordered his men to hold the field... the Berserkers had other plans. They chased the Royals without end. Lightly armored (not armored at all), the Berserks easily persued the slow and bulky medium infantry of the Prince. The men toar the enemy apart... literally. As a Beserk would leap upon an enemy soldier, he would tear the mans arms off which dull daggers, biting and tearing at his skin with his teeth and nails. Then, when bored with his prey, would bolt forward to take another. When Rachejk and his army moved Southward, they found a trail of bodies that lead on for 22 miles. Over 2,100 dead, Rachejk losing 650 of his original 1,000. However, once he defeated Eric's army, small towns, villages and cities as far South as Molde, and as far north as Alta, began joining up with Rachejks army.

Simply taking up his weapons, a man would walk in the direction the army was rumored to be. Like a snowball rolling down a snow covered mountain, the farther South Rachejk moved, the larger his army grew. Now gathering not only disgruntled peasants and Anti-Christians, deserters of the Royal Army joined up, simply scared into submission. The Berserks, which had never made contact with Rachejk, fled into the mountains after the Battle of Deep Pits, and was not seen thereafter. However, two days ago reports from the South spoke of the town of Hamar being raided, pillaged and burnt, 'beastmen' slaughtering the local militia as they retreated from the onslaught. These immortals took no heed to wounds, and continued onward with unwavering vigor. Suprisingly, the survivors of Hamar did not seek protection from King Oswalt. Their letter of aid went to Rachejk, begging him to reason with Odin.

Rachejk knew not how the battle tired Berserkscould travel from Bodo to Hamar in a meer to weeks... but that mattered not. "Sir! Sir! Mo has surrendered! The flag of Odin has been raised above the city! It is ours!", shouted Frankard, one of Rachejks key advisors. Snapping back into reality, Rachejk replied, "Excellent. We march into the city. Gather men. Supplies. We march south to Mosjoen in the morning."

OOC: Do you recall the last time a Non-Scandinavian/Far Northern Country (Soviet Union) effectively invaded and occupied any major Scandinavian Country? Actually... it's never happened. Call a Crusade. Im gonna love to see Italians and Spaniards fighting in four foot deep snow, waiting for summer to come so they can launch an offensive... then they realise, there is no summer. And if some realism is added (we get a Turk RPer), Vikings will be the least of Europe's Problems. The Muslims threatened to conquer Southern Europe, and it was a very serious threat. Think the Pope is gonna send armies to Oslo when Rome is under Siege? Think again. In 1087 The Byzantine Empire was near collapse under the onslaught of the Seljuks. Spain was seriously under the influence of the Sultanate of Morocco, who had plans on France. The Calif of Egypt gained control of Sicily, and launched repeated assaults on Southern Italy... Greece was consantly assaulted. Crusade on Scandinavia? That ties up alot of troops far, far away from home. The Muslims are gonna be drooling at this opportunity, and take everything up to Paris within a year. Crusade Away!

Your thinking of the 600's to 800's when Europe was in the Dark ages we are based around 1000's Europe was in a early revival and Byzantine was starting to slowly expand into asia minor and northern spain was full of christian kingdoms fighting to reunite there nation and italy was pretty much safe.

A messengar appears at the gates of the Norweigen Capital

"I come from the Heiliges Römisches Reich the Emperor has sent me to tell you that it will not tolerate this Viking rebellion and if it does not stop the glorious Emperor Henry IV will be forced to take action and send a reich army consisting of 2500 Men-At-Arms,1800 Bowman and 1200 Knights you have been warned

(Heiliges Römisches Reich- this is the name i will call the empire from now on tp refer to the Holy Roman Empire)

OOC: Actually, during the thick of the Dark Ages, the Byzantine Empire was the power in Europe. Now, they are slowing down. Infact, in 200 years they will be a Turkish puppet. Shortly after, the Turks will control them. Spain was heavily dominated by Muslims. The first Reconquest, launched by the Portogese, didn't occur till after 1200. The Spanish Reconquest until after 1400. Of course they started some good fighting around 700, but by no means did they control Spain for anotehr seven hundred years. And Italy... Sicily was under Islamic Control. Naples was under heavy pressure. Safe... not by a long shot.

IC:

Oslo

Oswalt was busy at work consulting with his Generals as he recieved two notices. One from Hamar. The city had fallen to savages from the mountains. Hamar... it was less than a hundred miles from Oslo. An army was being raised, over seven thousand in number to defeat the rebels to the North. This would be ended. Then came the second messenger. A threat from the Holy Roman Emporer. That German Confederacy dare insult the Throne of Norway? The German threat had, if anything, aided the Pagan Revolution in a most definite way. Oswalt had called seven thousand to arms just in the immidiet area, with another four thousand to the west. These eleven thousand would surely crush the rebels when added to the numbers of local lords, who could on their own provide four thousand. But now Oswalt could not send his armies north no crush the rebels. Now he needed to defend his border from a Southern Invasion. Though the HRE was terribly divided within its own right, and would never sucessfully mount an invasion, Oswalt was worried. Eleven thousand Royal Troops remained in the South. The rebellion in the north festered, and grew, and bread. All thanks to the precious time bought by the Germanics.

A stern response was sent to Vienna. "Keep your nose in your own affairs German. My house is in perfect order. Minor bandits are of no concern. Send a single soldier to my shores and he will never return."

With that being said, I Pope Urban II of the Papal States, by the authority I have I give you Emperor Henry IV the task of preventing this Viking Insurgency from taking hold of Christian lands and the destruction of this Viking Heresy. May God be with you.

Signed,
Pope Urban II

I have permission by the pope to bring the fire of god to these pagans and by all that is in me i will.

Besides i came to help you againts the rebels i was warning you to stop this rebellion or i would have to send more troops.

Or maybe you want to go againts the One Loving Holy Catholic Church?

(you got seven thosand troops no nation in europe has that amount in there army unless you applied heavy conscription which isint very smart)

remeber when the reich offers help it is usally because it was ordered by the pope.

Sorry chief, your a little behind on numbers of the age. Let me show you some other nations armies... do a tad bit of reasearch before you try ordering me around.
(Philanchez)
King Alfonso VI
3,500 Knights
8,000 Men-at-Arms
3,000 Pikemen
3,000 Bowmen
1,000 Longbowmen
Total: 18,500

(The Scandinavians)
King Roger I
3,000 Knights
6,000 Men-at-Arms
2,000 Pikemen
4,000 Archers
Total: 15,000
Ya... so unless youve got some massive proof as to why I only have 7, I have 11,000. Now this may be true of the Holy Roman Empire, as none of the rulers listened to the Emporer, and were extremely uncoordinated in all their actions, but most kingdoms could get numbers over twenty thousand if the situation called for it.

Oslo, Oswalts Militay Quarters

"Sire, the Germans threaten invasion under Urban's Protection! And The Rebel's have taken Mo, and have laid siege to Mosjoen.", screamed a messenger as he stumbled into the large room, holding several papers in his hands. Oswalt grinned. "Word reaches me that civil war has erupted in the Empire, has it not? That 'Empire' is no more than a confederacy with a fancy name. They hate each other, and are incapable of working together. At most we face 1,000 men. But if the Germans do not withdraw their threats... we will help the Princes. We will overthrow the Empire as it is, and put a new Prince in power. The Emporer barely is stable as it is, if we aid the Princes, the Empire falls. (At this time period, the Empire is very unorganized, ununified and independent. Invade anyone, and you'll have half the Empire with you, half waiting to kill you. RPing the Empire as if it was unified is innaccurate, as it is not. The majority of Princes are greedy old men that dont give a shit about Christianity, and are'nt gonna spend money sending troops to Scandinavia.)

Official Response

This nation is run by my Crown. The king of Norway. Not the Pope, not any German Prince. My throne is more than capable of putting down this rebellion, however, is preocupied by the threat of German Invasion. Attack Norway and I assure you defeat. Deafeat which will not stay in Scandinavia, but come back to Germany as we aid the Rebel Princes. Stay out of our affairs Prince.

OOC: those numbers are for us invadeing so they are kinda small. and yes most nations can muster over 20,000 if their border is threatened or they are REALLY zealous...and Phenixica, the HRE is disunited and HATES the papacy...they may like god but if the Pope orders them to do something they will damn sure sit in their thrones and do abso-freaking-lutely nothing about it...infact one or two prince may invade the papacy... who knows its been done before...

IC: Unfortunately cousin, I cannot send help to aid you in ridding yourself of these Viking Pagans. I would gladly send help but we are currently on campaign in Granada, taking Spain back from the Moslems. I put my faith in you to restore your Kingdom back to order and if you must flee you will be given residence in Burgos.

God bless you,
Alfonso

Trondheim

"INCOMING!", and not a second later, a massive bolder slammed down into the forward defences of Rachejk's Army, crushing a man where he stood. "RETURN FIRE!", the same bolder was hurled back at the city walls, smashing down the stone defenses, which had been battered for some two weeks. For sixteen long days bolders flew back and forth, to the city, and from the city. When bolders were scarce, Sven, Rachejk's cruelst, most ruthless, and cunning General, ordered bodies to be hurled into the city. Bodies which had been slit at the neck and wrists, and at the stomach, to promote maximum bleedage as they hit the grounds of the city. As the bodies hit, they fell apart, bodies scattering, organs dangling, blood soaking. The people of Trondheim were a demoralized, fearful one. Guarded by a mere 600 Royal Soldiers and 900 Militia. The Militia, lost heart after the first day of the siege. When the stink of death infiltrated the city, bringing the Spies of Odin to their doorstep (Ravens).

Rachejk and his forces quickly became legend, as rumor had it the Eijedren marched with him. The Militia, whom held little loyalty to anything but their base instincts, began speaking of mutiny in their own quarters. Lieutenant General Spheker Kachjier, not but a well decorated Militia Man, plotted an end to the madness that besieged his city. The Thane and his Lieutenants would need be eliminated. The catapults silenced, and the gates opened. Late in the night the Militia would establish control of the city, and allow Rachejk in. Kachjier plotted for two days, and on the eighteenth day of the siege, he acted. One hundred of Kachjier's best men escorted the General in teh Late of night to the keep, which they quickly entered, placing twenty men as guards, assassinating the Royal's before they could speak. Into the keep they went, killing what guards they encountered, until they reached the Duke's Quarters. Twelve men stood there, mostly Officers and General's, preparing the defences for the eventual attack on the city by Rachejk, who numbered over 5,000 now. "Duke of Trondheim, I come here to relinquish you of your throne.", belowed the General as he entered the room, followed by ten men, the cooridoor behing them also filled. "TRAITOR", was the last word to fall in the room before the carnage began, claiming the lives of nineteen, including the Duke and all his advisors.

At near the same time, Ninety Militia moved to the now silent catapults which lay in the city, and toar them apart. Cutting Ropes, smashing levers, the weapons of the Royal Soldiers were destroyed, all while they slept, only a few awake to patrol the walls of the city... they however, were killed during the night, replaced by Militia. Messangers road to Rachejk, and delivered notice of the happenings in the city. The Rachejk sent 800 to the city in limited confidence of the Rebel Generals Word. Royal Barracks were quickly surrounded, and stormed by a force of militia and rebel. Taking the sleeping Royal Army by suprise, many of their lives were saved, as they were taken in their sleep. Only 34 Norse Soldiers fell, 112 converted, the rest were enslaved. Trondheim had fallen.

The Northern Most Regions of Norway

The Thane of Alta, a hated opponent of the Catholic Church for his position against the tithe, had begun to consider his role in this 'Revertion'. His father was a extremely traditionalist in his ways, as the great northern city had remained the most unchanged city since the time of the Roman Empire. Many of the population still openly practiced Paganism, Catholic influence in the land was weak, and Sinel was eager to jump on teh opportunity. On one hand, he could summon up what Royal Soldiers he had, and his militia, and march south on the weakly defended city of Narvek, taking from Rachejk the strength of his population center, and in effect, surrounding the General and cutting off his base. With this, the rebellion would surely be crushed.

On the other hand, he could join with Rachejk, battle the Northern Dukes, and if sucessful, gain lordship over the northern realm. His power would gain exponentially, Rachejk would surely acknoledge those claims... if sucessful. Sinel had not only power to gain, but a chance to end the stench of Catholicism which drained his city of funds so rapidly. It would be so. The Thane of Alta sent message to Rachejk. He had a new ally in the north.

Monestarys were looted. Priests murdered. The army raised. Nine Hundred men in all, the Thane sent message to the Dukes of Vadso, Tromso, Lakselv, Vardo, and Hammerfest, demanding they pledge loyalty to the Throne of Alta, the new power of Northern Scandinavia. Each and every Duke laughed out, and ammassed an army to crush the Rebel Thane... 2,200 in all. However, Sinel was no fool. He possessed no military genious, but knew he was heavily outnumbered. Thus, he hired the Finns of Kirkanes to his side. Paying them well in gold for the 400 men they would provide. 500 well armed soldiers, trained and vicious in their own right, they held no love for the Norse at all, but for their gold.

As Rachejk recieved the notice, another was sent. This one to his Northern most city, Tormso. He ordered 100 men be mustered, and dispatched to Alta to aid the Thane in his fight, matching the numbers to 1,500 siding with the Thane, 2,200 with the Northern Dukes and the King. The Thane's army ammassed outside the city for over a week, preparing for the inevitable fight which would bring him either glory and riches... or the chopping block.

Rachejk redirected his attention to his south. Eric the Bold had returned with an army of 8,000.

Oslo

Oswalt quickly mustered a reply to the Spanish, shortly parting from his dealings with the Sweeds, whom he hoped to buy off in his fight against Rachejk.

Cousin, the day is grim across Europe. Heathens breathe down our necks from the South and North Alike. Let us slay our enemies and rejoice hereafter.
Oswalt of Norway

Official Response

Prince i am no Prince i am the Emperor my friend and this pathetic rebellion is near it's end the rebels like my empire as you say are disorganised and because i killed there leaders they are not united in there cause England has also sent reinforcements to the Reich and soon this rebellion willl be crushed and how many times do i have to tell you i was told by the pope to help you in destroying this rebellion as is threatens good christians lands and spills christian blood.

From Emperor Henry IV of the Heiliges Römisches Reich

-SNIP-

OOC: How many times do I have to tell YOU! The HRE IS disorganized and disunited and they DO have a history of quarrels with the Pope. You are also godmodding by sayin you killed the leaders of his rebellion and where on earth did England come into this?! One more post like this and you get demoted to The Liechtensteinian Vassal State of the HRE.

One more post im trying to bloody help you idiot how hard is it to see that?

i know we have a history with the pope but it dosnt mean i have to follow it

I meant england is helping me againts the rebel princes in the reich he has nothing to do with this.

From Emperor Henry IV of the Heiliges Römisches Reich

The Reich withdraws any offer of help againts the rebellion and will not offer any help in the future even when the capital of norway is under attack.

From Henry Iv of the Heiliges Römisches Reich

OOC: you do realize that I am regarding that as Out Of Character since my post was Out Of Character. And since you have shown NO respect for ruelings by the admin which have been reinforced time and time again by other RPers more experienced then yourself then Im forced to Officially kick you out of EM. I bid you good day. Oh and that means that you are NOT allowed to post in EM threads. So please do not disrupt our RPs.

OOC: Probably for the best... the HRE is a major part of this RP, and he doesn't appear to know what it is hes doing. Next battle coming up soon...

Scandinavia, a cold and barren place. One could say it was the final Northern Frontier for the expansion of Christianity, and thus the expansion of the Papacy. One wouldn't expect even the Pope to be informed about the events which were unfolding in Scandinavia, few would believe his eyes and ears could see and hear this far away from major civilization. This was untrue. The Pope had many eyes and many ears in this region, more than one would expect. He didn't just have eyes and ears, he had arms and legs and heads, and most of all he had knives--many, many knives.

Urban II wasn't ill-informed about the events in Norway. He'd heard of the death of a Bishop in Bonde and even if the conversion of good Christians to the pagan Viking beliefs. While Oswalt may have paid little attention at first, Urban II was paying deep attention. Besides it was his duty to stay on top of these tasks. Now that the Vikings came from the North and South, he believed Oswalt was taking a bit more interest in the matter. Though now was the time to show the Vikings that he, the Pope, would not tolerate the execution of one of his Bishops.

Sinel, the Thane of Alta would pay for his billegrance. His opposition to the place of the Catholic Church, to the death of Priests. While the rebel leader, Rachejk may not consider Sinel's death anything to worry about, it would give him the very present since that the Papacy was no weak force, that even out here in the barren wastelands of Scandinavia--the Church was something you rarely crossed and got away with it.

The assassin was a man by the name of Anders, a Norwegian and one loyal to the Church. He was, what one could say, a Sleeper Assassin. He was always ready to do the Church's will, but did not profess that he was an assassin to even the most richest of men, men who could use his skills. The message sent to him was very discreet and was actually in the form of a symbol. It was a loaf of bread that had a cross baked into it and it was labeled to be from his cousin. Even if the message was picked up by someone later on, they wouldn't have a clue what it was.

With that Anders traveled north, and was forced to cast off his Christian symbols (a necklace with a cross) and didn't wear anything. He kept a small craved Pagan rune in his pocket which he constantly asked God to forgive him for carrying, but he knew if anyone got suspicious he could always use it a leverage to get by. The Vikings were in revival, they wouldn't be so paranoid to see one of their own. Anders traveled for weeks and finall reached the area. He snuck in when a merchant convoy did, pretending to be apart of it. Nobody would ask questions, cause the money merchants brought wasn't something anyone would so easily attempt to hamper. Anders had, had doubts of carrying out his duty to the Church, believing that this was murder. Though once he saw the bodies of Priests being carried out on carts or burned, the Monestaries burned and looted. He knew this couldn't be murder--he knew the Pope would forgive him and thus God would--or so he believed.

He waited and blended into the population. He already had a knife, but it wasn't uncommon for a travel or a peasant to have a knife. He waited quietly, paitently. During one night he decided it was time, he'd been secretly spying on the castles defenses for the last few days. That night, using his knowledge and skill, he slipped past the guards by sticking to the shadows and making his way into the keep. Using the darkness and skill he attempted to make his way up to Thane's room. He knew the guards would be there, and he had something planned. When he appoarched the area he began to cause a stir, lowering his voice and shouting, while throwing chairs and knocking over tables. This would surely grab the guards attention. He stuck to the shadows quickly, and when the guards came into to investigate, he snuck in behind them and ran towards the window just outside the Thane's door. He looked out and to the left and noticed there was a window into the Thane's room. He quickly moved to grab it and get his balance, but keep his presence unknown.

He knew the Thane was in his room, he'd planned and was absolutely sure he was here. He drew his knife quietly. The Thane would probably think nothing of the shouts and banging from outside his room (albiet it was actually down the hall). Anders peeked into the room, and took note of where the Thane was. He said a small, prayer in his mind (so the Thane wouldn't hear him). With that he took that final step and rushed into the room with his knife. He charged forward with all the speed the good Lord had given him. And with it he attempted to plundge the knife into the Thane's heart. Anders knew his mission was one of sueicide, the guards would come in and kill him. But at least the Thane of Alta was dead and the priests avenged.

This night, the ground would run red with the blood of the guilty...

Yuri Kerensky decided his first stop should be with the men of the North. They were known to raid trading posts and villages in Novgorod's vicinity. If at least one of them could be tamed, trade would be safe and the two Kings could be played against each other until the Republic's power grew.

His first stop was Norway. Not much war had passed between Norway and Kiev and the Norweigans were supposed to be in a war anyways. They could use allies.

A month later...

Yuri and his company were standing in front of the walls of Oslo. The hornblower blew some sort of tune that sounded like something official. Yuri then pulled out his piece of paper and said, "Men of Norway! I am Yuri Kerensky, Boyar of the new Novgorod Feudal Republic. We have recently proclaimed our independance from the degenerate Princedom of Kiev. While the Princedom is in anarchy at this current time, our safety is still unsure. At this time we are still considered a vassal of Kiev. We ask for your recognition of our new Republic and also a non-agression treaty so that we may also be able to live in harmony."

He waited for the guard's response.

Alta

The knife plunged into the Thanes heart, bringing him to a halt, and seconds later, to his death. With his last strength, the words, "You know not what you have done...", were coughed out, as the Thane fell to the floor, dead.

The Thane's Royal Guard, five in number, withdrew their swords, and charged the assassin bringing their swords down on him in rapid order. The yells of the men were folloed with more men rushing into the Royal Chamber... the murderer of their loved Thane would fall. Pikes and swords swung chopping the man to pieces, chopping to pieces any remaining love for the Church.

With the knife of the assassin plunging into the Thane's heart, came the death of two things. The most apperant being the Thane of Alta, Sinel. The second, any hope of the Altanian Provinces returning to Christianity. The Thane did fall. The rebel in the north, the only opposition to Royal Rule over the land, had fallen in his tracts, however, one would have to take his place. The Thane had no sons... but he did have a brother. Richard the Terrible was the name granted to him by Finnish raiders, mainly due to his most... unusual forms of punishment. A cruel man. A paranoid man. The hatred of the church incarnate.

Two hours after the Thane fell, Richard was crowned King of the North, and began taking control of his kingdom. Sinel wound be considered a Christian Saint compared to the man taking his place. His guard was many, his weakness' not existant. Guards manned every entrance to every room, as his purges of Christianity began. His first decree made it law that all Christian books, symbols and parafanalia be burned, any family found harboring such symbols would be sacrificed to Odin.

One would think the death of Sinel would strike Christian fear into the hearts of the people... it was not so. The death of Sinel was an assassins doing. Obviously so. A knife to the heart, the knife was mortal, the man was mortal. The chaos which Rachejk reaked was not. The people truly believed Rachejk's madness to be the work of Pagan Gods... they believed the assassination to be nothing more than mortal defiance of a Gods will. Richard made sure to remind them of it.

Mountain Pass Enroute to Alta

Fanzer of Vardo, the Duke of the Western Region of the North, was dubbed Supreme Commander of the Royal Forces by the nieghboring Dukes, as they took lesser official roles in the upcoming battles. Their army had ammassed at Hammerfest, and was now moving to march on Alta, inspired by news of the Thane's death. 1,800 men marched through the narrow Mountain Pass of Al Thazane, unsuspecting of the terror which awaited them. The other 400 came from the East, and could not connect with the main forces of the Alliance. It was decided they would meet at the siege of Alta.

"How much longer will we be forced to march through this frozen hell hole sire?", grunted a near petrified soldier, looking up at Duke Fanzer on his armored steed. Snow fell all around the men, one could hardly see three feet infront of himself as the men grasped their limbs, and huddled together for warmth, moving forward at a snail's pace. Ice formed inside the mouth's of men... frostbite ran rapid... frozen hell was upon them.

"Only a few more hours now lad... just keep-", an arrow struck his steed in the neck, causing it to jump, and hurl the Duke twenty feet into the air, falling on a detachment of spearmen... impailing the commander in seconds. Then another arrow, and then a entire hail of them, easily 600 arrows smacked into the sides of the army, falling from the mountain pass as fast as the snow flakes. The cold of nature was supressed by the warmth of flowing blood as arrows emerged from the walls of snow on either side. Not one man could see from where the arrows fell. The other nobles, ten of them at least, searched in vein for Fanzer, themselves having no military expirience, no idea of what should be done. Men fell by the minute, none knowing what to do. Most hit behind their fallen or dying comarades, others ran back the way they had come, other ran forward.

Those that ran back were met by a hidden group of sword wielding men, painted white so as so blend into the snow... as the fleeing Royal's ran back, they sprung out, and spilt red upon the landscape. Those that ran forward, lead the eventual decision of the nobles. They were to run forward, out of the ambush. Arrows fell down all the while as the army left their dead and wounded to straggle behind. It took ten long minutes, ten minutes of fire before the army began to run forward, deeper into the mountain pass, leaving their supply caravans behind. The farther they ran, the farther from hope they were. After approximatly three minutes of a forward retreat, all the while being assaulted by steams of arrows, massive logs began rolling down the sides of the mountains. Entire trees, shaved of their branches, tumbled down the sides of the snowy hills, and into the ranks of soldiers below, smashing bones and flesh alike. All the while, arrows fell upon them. Once the army reached the end of the mountain pass, 400 men remained. 1,400 were too wounded to continue, as a matter of fact, only 450 were killed in the assault. The other 950, along with the army's supplies, were taken by the ambushing party, 600 in number. The fallen soldiers were stripped of their armor and weapons, the wounded were dragged into mountain camps, and slowly sent back to Alta. The grand Allied Royal Army, originally 2,200, was now a total of 800, with the vast majority of their number in prison camps in Alta. Of the Dukes, two survived, and their army sat outside Alta, ill-equiped, hunrgy, cold and thirsty, scared out of their minds, as the men believed the attack was the work of Odin, as one soldier was never seen. Surrender was on the lips of every man, as Richard the Terrible prepared his army to crush the enemy force.

The Walls of Oslo

No response was given. King Oswalt, as well as his cabinet had fled the city, fearing rumors of a band of Berserks approaching the area. The guard stood and laughed, "Anarchy? The whole bloody continent is in anarcht. We've not the slightest idea where the King is."

Oslo

Yuri stood amazed. The Kingdom of Norway had too fallen into distress. Was Novgorod the only civil place in the North? He must know.

"What of the Kingdoms of Sweden and Denmark? Are they stable? What is this threat that has scared the King of mighty Norway?"

Walls of Oslo

"Eh? What did he say?", coughed a sentry to the guard next to him. "He wants to know bout Sweden and Denmark.", "Sweden? How the hell... YA SIR?!", yelled Captain Grafji to the men below, "I dont know much about Sweden or Denmark... but Oswalt moved East... or was it west... mabey he is in Denmark... oh well nevermind. There's been a rebellion to the North, much death. Viking's they're sayin. The Old Pagan God's comin' back to kick out Christianity. Apperantly its pretty hectic up there... what the?"

A massive horn sounded in the distance, Captain Grafji quickly grabbed a crude telescope, and surveyed the horizon. The rising sun was blacked by a horde of soldiers, lead by a lone man blowing into an old Viking horn. "For det gammele landet! Død til Oswalt!" Rachejk stood at the front of the horde, battle axe overhead, shouting at the top of his lungs. With that, a massive battering ram rolled down the semi-steep hill, towards the city gates. The large contraptions rolled forward, their crews hidden from sight by thick layers of wood and metal.

Captain Grafji grabbed his spear and began shouting out to the cities guards, "Oh shit... sound the bells! Fortify the wall! Up the catapults! Sound for the militia! The city is under siege!", redirecting his attention to the representives of Novgorod. "Eh... well friends... this is whats goin' on in Norway... FIRE BALLISTAS!... WHERE THE HELL ARE MY CATAPULTS! ARCHERS! TAKE OUT THOSE BATTERING RAMS!", the Captain ran off, down the ramparts to assist in the organization of the Milita, leaving a lowly Seargant to direct the walls... "Umm boys... you might wanna choose a side... CLOSE THE BLODDY GATES!... get in or try your chances with our Northern Brethren.", seconds later, boides began falling from the sky, down unto the Capital of Oslo.

One such body was that of Eric the Bold, his head however, was missing. Twas sent to King Oswalt as he cowered in the port city of Egersund. The city militia, 900 strong attempted to assist the Royal Soldiers (600), in preparing for the upcoming siege. Apperantly Eric's Army, 8,000 men total, had been defeated by Rachejk's 'Snowball Army', as it rolled over the Royal Forces, gathering more men to its side, and continuing to the South. The truth about the Battle of Oppland was a simple one. Eric's forces were decimated by skirmishing archers, ballistas and shortbow men. Once the hordes clashed, Eric looked for his heavy cavalry, whom he had sent to hit the enemy from the rear. 600 Heavy Cavalry were sent through the forests, one mile round the rebel army. They were caught however, by a band of Bererks, 350 total, whome due to the terrain, the element of suprise, and the insanity with which they fought, cut the cavalry to 400 in minutes, sending the rest fleeing into the woods. With Eric's plan collapsing, Rachejk pushed through the center, and met Eric's regiment head on, in which the Royals had been slaughtered. But still... Eric held 8,000 men to Rachejk's 5. How was it possible? 2,000 of Eric's men were driven into insanity by the various phycological war methods employed by the rebels. 1,000 more simply walked away, not seeing it fit to die for a religion that had failed to protect them. The cross was thrown down, the raven hoisted up.

The petty 'Bandit Horde' of the North had converted itself to a full scale revolution... one that seemed likely to suceed.

[OOC: Small, tiny, almost insignifcant problem in all that Kroando. My dude was carrying a Pagan symbol with him...so that would imply a pagan did it. That would imply that the Rachejk guy may have done it to destroy a contender. Or a disgruntled pagan. Or an assassin from Oswalt. Seriously, whos going to know the Church, which is already collasping in Norway to manage something like that? My purpose was to cause the pagans to go into chaos in Alta and thus allow the other dukes and lords to pwn Alta.]

OOC: However, the people who then take control of the situation, they decide what is painted. The new Thane, Richard the Terrible, finds his brother dead. What does he do? He has already made enemies of the Royalty and of the Church... does he now condem his only ally in Rachejk? Or does he cover the situation up for the time being. Lead his people to believe the Christians and the Royal's did it? Politicaly speaking, blaming the Church and Oswalt is the only thing to do... until he gains control. Now he is not sure of who did this, but he is sure that in order to survive, it cannot be blamed on Rachejk. He has it covered up, and progresses with his attempt at domination. What ruler would sacrifice his kingdom in order to critisize his ally?

[OOC: Ok, makes sense. Just making sure you understand what my goal was and RPed realistically on it. Good job...and here I expected a Viking civil war. Lol.]

OOC: Once the rebellion is finished, there will be two Norways. The Kingdom of the North, and whatever Rachejk decides to call his land. Possibilities of civil war will be real in the future.

OOC: I knew this would happen :P

As much as I would like to stave the hordes, my guy has more important issues.

IC: As soon as the city was under seige Yuri knew what to do. As much as he would like to help his new potential friends, his mission was to cement alliances and part of that mission was to stay alive. He ordered the men to get to the woods at full speed. From the woods, they managed to escape to the sea where their boat lay. They headed to Denmark next.

Walls of Oslo

"Cmon' lads! Give er' another slam for ol' Rachejk!", The steel headed battering ram slammed into the iron reinforces door, sending the men bracing the gate back several feet. "AGAIN!", shouted Sven, as he pulled upon the wooden handle of the ram, then pushed it forward again, causing the chain links supporting the wooden mammoth to creack, then sending the iron of the log into the wooden planks once again. Hour upon hour the ram plunged into the front of the gate, bending the reinforced iron bars, shattering the wooden defences. Arrows rained down upon roof of the contraption, both flaming and standard, sticking into the wood, bouncing off the iron plates.

It seemed the Royal's would never stop the behemoth of a contraption, until finally the boiling oil was readied, and dumped upon the ram. Leaking through the cracks, the skin of men burned, however the machine seemed stable. Then, a flaming arrow hit the oil, and sent the contraption to flame. The crewmen bailed from the ram, tossing themselves into the snow, desperatly trying to put out the flames. Each of the men however, was quickly shot down. Luckily for the rebels, snow was falling on this day, saving the battering ram from destruction.

"Cmon! That ram is'nt done just yet!", Rachejk bellowed out, and ran towards the city walls, followed by ten men. When they reached the contraption, Sven still hung on to his handle, half his body burnt, grunting, "Bout time you all showed up... now lets knock this damn gate down.", and then smashing continued, one hit at a time, untill the gates was breached. A bloodbath ensued as the rebel army charged forward, storming the entrance, scaling the walls, taking casualties from the hail of arrow fire, however, their numbers were to great. 8,500 total, they entered the city, killing any they saw. The fight lasted for an entire day, ending with over half the Royal's dead, along with 1,000 rebels dead or wounded. The city of Oslo, was taken. The fighting ended with Rachejk sitting on Oswalt's Throne.

Across Norway

News of the fall of Oslo spread like wildfire. Rumors that Oswalt had fled to Spain nearly as fast. The nation had lost faith in their newfound Christian God, for how could this almightly lord truly lose to a group of Rebels if he truly was allpowerful? How could he allow Pagans victory? It was immpossible. The Gods of Old were returned to their places as rapidly as the Christian ones fell. Royal Soldiers threw down their arms, and pledged loyalty to Oswalt, and his appointed Lieutenants. Chruches and Monastarys were sacked, priests sold into slavery, nuns raped and made into prostitutes. Resistance was rooted out of the land, as the people flocked to the sides of Rachejk, as he was the only force capable of staying the hand of the rebel armies. There was one force however, no hand could stay. The Berserks. They raided any town or city not bearing the symbol of the rebel armies, not because of fear of Rachejk, but out of respect for the man who returned Norway to itself.

Oswalt did infact flee, along with only his immidiet family and advisors, to Spain... as far away as he could possibly get from Rachejk. Oswalt however, fled with nothing. He was forced to escape the city under cover of darkness, disguised as a fisherman due to the revolts hitting the city, which the Royal Guard refused to put down. Across the nation, Rachejk's reforms began. One would initially believe, it was simply a reverse to the ways of old. The ways of the Viking and of Paganism... those people were wrong.

An entire new way of life would hit Norway. Economically. Religiouslly. Socially. The first thing Rachejk saw to doing, was rewarding his men. Land was relitively pointless in owning, as most of it was frozen, but nevertheless, it was split up and granted to the lesser soldiers of his armies... the wealth of the former nobles siezed, and ammassed in Oslo. The Nobles of Norway, the Dukes, the Lords, the Thanes, they were a wealthy people. Now they were all dead. Their wealth was taken to Rachejk, where he split it into several parts. Over half his wealth was given to his Lieutenants and soldiers. Much of the rest used to repair the cities damaged in the war. Much was left after these minor ventures. The wealth of the churches, of the nobles, of the Royalty was great. Rachejk's armies had largely been satisfied by the loot they recieved in raiding, but the grants from their beloved leader only sweetened the deal.

Rachejk had many Lieutenants that required more than simple land grants and money. They were given dominions over the land far greater than that of the nobles. Along the Western borders of Norway sat strips of mining cities. Small cities which produced limited amounts of iron, nickel, copper, lead, lumber and other such metals. These cities were given to his Lieutenants. Each of these cities held small populations, which were quickly tripled in size. Rachejk's ranking men were given slaves number several hundred, as well as Rebel Soldiers to accompany him in his lordship over these cities. They made up the higher ranks of city life, the people remained unchanged, except for a slight elevation in status, with a large slave population coming in below them. The mines were owned by the Lieutenants, operated by the slaves. The wealth of these mines was in part paid to Rachejk for the protection he provided, in part paid to the soldiers which served under the Lieutenants. The slaves were those still scared into insanity by the revival of Paganism, and kept that way by the 'Ex-Soldiers' of the Revolution.

However, the cities were too few to grant one to each of his deserving friends and allies. So somthing else was granted. Each coastal city was given to a Lieutenant, and 'Plagiators' were formed. Raiding Parties. Vikings. The leader of these parties were the Lieutenants. The raiders, the Veterans of the Revolution. However, the future would show somthing would happen Rachejk did not intend. The two economic parties of the country, the Mining Cities and Raider Cities, would work together. The loot brought in from one, would be sold to the other. This process would slowly amass wealth to the fledgling 'Rike'. All of these cities, all of these groups, paid a fee to the Crown of Rachejk, 'The Ruler of the North', as he was commonly called.

Regarding the Northern Provinces, Rachejk had a choice. The Thane of Alta had proved a valuable ally, but he now desired Kingship. He could be crushed at the cost of some 3,000 heads. Or he could be appeased. The latter was chosen, and the Kingdom of the North was formed in union with the 'Frozen Throne', or so Rachejk's Kingdom was nicknamed. The most prosperous and sought after artist in Northern Europe had happened to be in Oslo, hoping to paint the burning of the city. However, when this failed to happen, he made a portait of Rachejk, clean shaven, slouching in his throne, snow covering the stone floor. Ice frozen on the golden legs. Frost clinging to his magnificent robes, which failed to cover his black leather armor and fur skins. Scars lined the kings face, his brown hair fell down to his eyes, a battle axe served as his Scepter. The Reign of the Frozen Throne had begun.

The Reign of the Frozen Throne - Post Revolution Period

(Rachejk is now incharge. Christianity is gone)

Duke Magnus Billung of Saxony, in recognition of his Norse decent, offers asylum to all of his relatives from the Fairhair dynasty and other Norse fleeing the vile pagan Rachejk. Land is availible for those willing to swear fealty and take up arms for their new leige die Herzog von Sachsen (duke of saxony)

Secret Message to Rachejk, pretender to the Norwegian Throne,
The Duke of Saxony rejects any any buy protection from the "Frozen Throne" and any raiders he sends will be thrown back into the sea by the might of Saxon arms.

However, his Grace would not be adverse to paying a small sum in totaly secrecy to encourage raiding against his neighbours, the Frisians.

Upon hearing of the Viking attack upon England the King of Sicily has offered to send Sicilain 2,000 men-at-arms and 700 knights from Castille to aide in the defence of England and any campiagn against the Vikings pf Norway.

A message was written up to the Saxon Duke in response to his concerns, the letter of course, was not written by Rachejk, but by a close advisor. Rachejk, having no intrest in politics, spent his time drinking, whoring, training and hunting. When he was not doing one of the above, he sat on his frosted throne of gold, and slept in a state of drunken sleep.

Dearest Duke,

We regret to inform you that if the annual fee is not paid to the Frozen Throne, Saxony will be subject to Viking Raids of any magnitude. If the Duke does agree to pay the tax, we can not only assure you of your lands safety, but of the streams of wealth which will flow through the streets due to the amount of trade brought by Norse Merchants. The Viking raids, while terrible in their own right, bring in all sorts of goods and valuables, most of which the raiders do not need themselves, and simply wish to sell off. If the Saxons pay this fee, Norse Merchants will travel to the land of Saxony, and set up markets, from which raided items can be bought and sold, thus increasing the economic strength of Saxony. By paying this fee to the Frozen Throne, Saxony loses 2% of its annual income. By agreeing to pay, it also gains an estimated 5% of total income through trade and dealings with merchants. This is an estimated 3% increase. Refusing this deal is... simply ludacris when realizing the extreme costs it will require to defend against the raiders.

On a side note, if a sum of 800 pieces of gold was paid to the crown per year, our economists believe raids against the Frisians would increase by 60%.

~Srif Kalmdire
Lieutenant of the Frozen Throne


When Rachejk heard the Sicilians wished to send soldiers to England, he simply laughed, crumbling the note in his hand and throwing it to the ground. "We'll see how well the men of the Mediterranean fight when their up to their waist's in snow."

OOC: As a side note. The raids I RP as occuring are not the only raids going on. They are simply the largest and most important raids. Smaller raids of 15-50 men occure several times a week on miniscule villages in all Northern Countries. Approximatly 60-90% of these are sucessful, depending on the countries defenses.

OCC: How many longships do you have? Also I know that in older times Viking came into the Medditeran and raided, will you ever attempt this?

Message to the Frozen Throne

While the Duke encourages trade and welcomes peaceful merchants from all nations to his ports, he does not succum to blackmail. A treaty to promote mutual trade will be welcomed, the Duke will never resort to buying off his foes. Come to his lands to raid and you will be met with the force and fury of Saxon arms, we fear you not.

Secret Addum: Enclosed in this chest is the bribe to despoil the Frisians, the full sum requested.

OCC isn't it a bit odd for a 11th century Norseman to refer to royal economists?:)

OOC: You know your history Scan, that is after all, one of the chief reasons the Mafia was formed. I may move to the Med. but if and when I do, I plan to be strong enough to do it, which will not be for some time.

Regarding my total number of longboats, I do not have exact numbers. Rachejk only controls few himself, the vast majority are made in the East, and purchased by the Western Raiding cities with the loot from their raids. The Lieutenants control their own fleets and use them as they like, but the number of longboats are increasing at an astounding rate, as are the numbers of raiders. Every time a sucessful raid is launched, the loot of that raid is used to purchase more boats, new weapons, and more raiders. While Rachejk does not control them, if he says to the Lieutenants, 'Raid Denmark', they raid Denmark.

@Coop. Rachejk is not what any European Nobleman would refer to as a 'King'. He despises economic work, thus, left it to one of his close advisors. Laziness is the main reason.

IC:

Dearest Duke,

What a shame.

[Seal of the Frozen Throne]

OOC: Cool, just to tell you if you raid Sicily I will send my fleet after you. Also do not forget galleys are more effective then long boats in the Med.

OOC: At fighting, galleys will win a fight 7/10 against a longboat, for they are not meant for traditional naval fights. (Their only real chance would be firing shortbows at the galley or ramming it and engaging in hand to hand combat) They are however, faster than galleys in all conditions, and can carry just as much. With their speed, they can escape most foes and avoid having to fight in the first place. But a galley being faster than a longboat in any condition is quite unaccurate.

Rachejk Orders Construction of Forge City

The wealth of the Frozen Throne was undeniable. They had little responsibility in Norway, as city and local affairs were all dealt with by Lieutenants and Lords. Rachejk had not squandered his wealth, as had Oswalt and his predesecors, he had actually horded it, selling off what he saw as 'Worthless Valuables', for masses of gold and silver. The wealth was dumped into vaults, when those filled, into now vacant dungeons and prisons (all prisoners now work as slaves in the East) The Wealth of the Frozen Throne was superceded by few, with no sign of end.

Rachejk knew the Raiders needed one thing, and that was a weapon. Masses of weapons infact, more weapons than people in Norway. Weapons that could be sold across Europe for extreme profits. However, the process of blacksmithing was a slow one. The brain child of the brilliant Finnish scientist/engineer, Raki Korvino, he desired to create a city, a massive city used only for creating weapons. His designs however, were far to complex and expensive to be considered by the administration of Oswalt, and were thus tossed aside. Now however, Rachejk, a bored, drunken king, took note of the idea... a Forge City.

However Korvino's idea was more than met the eye. It required the city... to be constructed inside a mountain. The city would be deep inside the mountain, for the main reason of preserving the massive amount of heat needed for such a city. The deeper in the mountain, the higher the level of heat which could be preserved. If the heat could be preserved, less wood would be nessecary to keep the fires of the forges lit. The potential of this city was undeniable. Europe was gearing towards war, a massive war against the hordes of the Middle East and Africa. Weapons, which would normally be in short supply, would fill the streets of every city... now, just to find a way to build the city.

The Eastern Mining cities would be Rachejk's chief hope, paying the Slave Lords of the Cities large portions of gold for use of their slave gangs. In addition to this, The Frozen Throne would begin purchasing slaves of its own from the Western Raiding Cities, increasing the manpower for the project. Korvino's plans allowed for multitudes of workers to keep busy, a scafold was to be errected above the ground, nine feet in the air, thirty feet wide. Then another scafold, eighteen feet in the air, fifteen feet wide. The scafolds were to have connecting latters, from which miners could move up and down. In effect, there would be three levels of constant work. Picks hitting stone 24 hours of the day.

However, what of the rocks created by the second and third levels? Would they not fall and crush lower workers? Planks of wood were applied to the flooring of each level, thus when fragments of stone fell, they simply rolled back to the ground, in a 'No-Go Zone'. Wooden and iron carts would be positioned along this area, set on iron rails (long poles), which most of the rocks would fall into on their own. Every twenty minutes, a horn would sound, and work would stop. The current minors would scurry down the latters, and back to a designated area, as another group ran into the 'No-Go Zone', and picked up all the rocks that did not fall into the carts, and place them in the mobile containers. A third group would rush through the zone, and to the positions of previous miners, picking up their picks and tools, and waiting for the second horn to blow. When it did, they went to work until the horn was sounded twenty minutes later, when a new shift would hit the mountain. The rock filled carts would be pushed back, away from the zone very quickly, and new carts placed on the iron rails and rolled into place while the filled carts were dumped at given positions.

The miners would not tire, due to this highly efficient shift system, and excess rock would not clutter construction, as the rails quickly moved them away. The project would work. Once the tunnel to the grand forge room was completed, the numbers of scafolds, rails and contraptions would multiply. The number of active miners would increase.

The scafolds, while weighted down and secured, could be repositioned without dismantiling the contraption, thus reducing the time it would take in continuing work. Night construction was a key part of the plan. 24 hour work was needed, thus the creation of the high torches. Massive bowls placed upon polls were filled with tar, coal and oil, a very slow burning mixture which provided sufficient light to continue the work throughout the night.

The location of the city had been determined long ago, before Kavino's designs even began. At an intersection of a mountain pass and the River Giama. The river would be connected to the city, a mini-strem of water to run straight through it, allowing craftsmen to cool their weapons in rapid order. Present was also a massive clearing, from which a construction site could be made, and a camp erected. The clearing sat along the river, which in turn sat along a path, leading all the way out of the mountain range. This would provide an invaluable supply line to the south. The River Giama also provided an even more valuable ally in this mission. It flowed south... to the Capital city of Oslo. The products of the city could be placed in massive trade cogs and shipped south, to the Capital, and then to the rest of the Continent.

Molds, anvils, hammers and equiptment of all shapes and sizes were being gathered in the city of Hamar to the South, it would then be moved north to the city, to be named Rachejk, after the great king. Within a week of Rachejk's command, construction had begun.

Frankard, a key advisor sinse the begining of the war, encouraged Rachejk to look into the 'Fire Powder' of the east, a legend based out of truth, Frankard believed this explosive would quicken construction. Rachejk, taking it as little more than an urban myth, sent several merchants and tradesmen to the Eastern Cities of Constantinople, Baghdad, Babylon and into Far Asia to find this rumored powder, and bring it back. If it existed, it would be used, as the city did not expect completion for several years, even with the thousands of slaves working non-stop (and that number ever-rising). The pick hit the stone, the forge would be made.