The Gepidaen Civil War

[Crusader]

Bishop-Knight Laurence has been an aging man, in the past few months his health has deteriorated massively. He has been blessed with a long life; 68 summers is a great time that we thank to his piety.

The Vassalization of the Åland Islands

Bishop-Knight Laurence swore that his final act on this Earth will be the conversion of Heathens. He had spent the last years stabilizing his realm, happy that the people were under one God and one tribe, he now looks out-wards. Hoping a common ambition will unite his people past his life. So when a traveling Man of Cloth spoke of a bravely moral barbarian to the North he wasted no time preparing his armies.

Chieftain Jalo was but a small inconsequential ruler of the Åland Islands; however God had chosen him to become great. On Christmas Eve on the Year of our Lord 1000ad the united Gepidaen 13,000 man-strong Army landed ashore the Chief's village, Mariehamn. Lord Jalo and his subjects were then formally baptized, where a promise before God was formed. Lord Jalo's rivals will be converted or subjected to God's word and he will be their mentor.

The battle-plans were drawn and the campaign engaged. It took short work to convince the Finns of God's strength. The difficulty was the bitter cold, blizzards raging for days causing amputations to be common. It was as if Manna from Hell. It was this affliction that claimed the life of the most Pious Laurence, dated 3rd January.

To ignore the succession crisis mid-campaign Baron Jaak, an Estonian and suitably Godly person; was elected in a hurried war council. This move was not without its opponents. Especially from the higher Clergy and the local nobility.

The campaign was a moderate success, with the lower-country armies suffering in the cold. But ultimately Lord Jalo's lands were more than quadrupled. And to avoid a significant succession crisis the campaign was retired. With Lord Jalo swearing to serve whoever was chosen as the Knight-Bishop of Gepidae.

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A day of mourning was decreed. And Bishop-Knight Laurence was entombed in the Marienburg Cathedral with full honours and ceremony. His legacy would be one of violence and of piety. The peasants would call him Laurence the Pious, or Laurence the Wrath depending who you asked.

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The Council of 1001 AD and the Anarchy

A month the country was ruled by Lord Steward Reinhard. All Men of Cloth gathered from across the land, and even representatives from the Order of St. George; it was to be decided who would be the most Pious Ruler of Gepidaen, the discussions did not start off well, with out-rage from the nobility; that they were not to be represented. However debates continued, the first to leave was Lord Steward Reinhard, in a fit of fury. Because he was not truly part of the Clergy his word was ignored. Priest Jacob mediated in his place.

The second to leave was the extreme organization known as the "Saintly Realm", they argued only Kings had the divine right to rule. And supported the Varasdian Crown Prince Stephan Konsky, that the blood of Varasd was holy and their piety unquestionable; afterall, a Varasdian is currently in the highest office a man can achieve. They left after the barely literate populist peasant priests in their majority refused their authority.

With the abandonment of the Saintly Realm, the serfs began to feel uneasy, it'd now been weeks and no decision had been reached, there were rumors of heresy, peasant Witch hunts and crucifixions of minor nobility.

And the inevitable happened. First the peasants refused to pay taxes, then they openly attacked soldiers and merchants and ultimately they stormed Marienburg's Cathedral. The bloodshed was terrifying. A man called 'Jack' was behind this Anarchy. Peasants by the thousands were demanding the heads of the Priesthood, the demolishing of holy shrines and institutes. Hundreds of priests were crucified, thousands of women raped or worse. Their 'rule' lasted for 4 days, as Marienburg is not a walled city, breaching was not a challenge. Combined in their fury the Knight of St. George (those that were stationed in Konigsberg and Marienburg) and the Saintly Realm savagely ordered the decapitation of 90% of all men younger than 30 summers.

And thus the war had begun.

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OOC: A break-down of all the factions, who they are, what they represent and who they're asking for help from.

Lord Jalo of the Åland Islands:
-Unknown goals
-Promised to serve whoever won
-Fatigued from the war
-Middle-aged with a recognized heir
-Feudalistic

Baron Jaak of Estonia
-Openly ambitious respects strength
-Held no admiration for Laurence the Wrath
-Recent combat experience, a respected general
-Young with no heir, but with a cousin pretender
-Feudalistic

Suzerains
-Rebellious
-Tribal and numerous
-Petty local rivalries
-Historic and ancient ethnic struggles
-Still largely Romuva (Baltic Pagan)
-Heavily Feudalistic

Viceroy Erik of Riga
-Concerned for population
-Relatively moderate, admirably called 'Erik the Trustworthy"
-Most wealthy land north of Konigsberg
-No rebellion here, rebel leader(s) openly killed by majority loyal serfs
-Old, has two competing heirs
-Moderately Feudalistic
-Calling upon every Christian nation for aid in this war

Lord Steward Reinhard
-Fiercely concerned with the greatness of the nation
-Respects authority
-Poor military leader, excellent negotiator
-No heirs and old
-Minor rebellion no defecting soldiers
-Small army
-True moderate, only concerned with the nation, not the ruler

Lord Mayor Fullum of Visby
-Respects only money and invention
-Quality over quantity army
-No heirs
-Not loved by people
-Multiple rebels, under control, captured dissidents are frequently mutilated in public
-Republican dictator

Jack, the Peasant
-Adored by every criminal and degenerate in the land
-Streets are commonly stained with the blood of the anti-revolutionaries
-No known heirs
-Army of slaves
-Suspected devil worshiper, whispers of witchcraft and black magic

The Saintly Realm, Bishop Mertin
-Feared and loved by the people
-Rebels are swiftly and brutally slaughtered, no current rebels
-No disputed succession
-Army of zealots and loyal soldiers
-Monarchists who believe in the Divine Right of Kings
-Currently most pro-active at countering Jack
-Calling upon Varasd for aid in this war

The Order of St. George, Crown Prince Stephan Konsky
-Will be roleplayed by Varasd

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Note about the roleplay.

I will do my absolute best to be impartial as to the conclusion of the war, if addressing a specific faction please state at the beginning/top of your message. I will no longer be speaking 'as the nation' until this is resolved.

I welcome everyone to do whatever they want here, maybe put a puppet of your choosing on the throne? Make a faction marry into your dynasty? Its all up to you.

And please do not meta-game. I trust everyone to make decisions based on what their country would know. Please again don't meta-game : )

[Varasd]

"Go, my son. Forge your own fate..."

A weary messenger has arrived to the Varasdian army. He spoke of a civil war in the north, and called for aid - but not from the King, but from the Prince. Those loyal to the Order of St. George see Prince Stephan Konsky as the leader who could save the young Gepidae nation from doom.

"We spear loyalty to You. Please, Lord, save our lands! We need a strong hand to rule, one who can hold the realm together. Come with us and march to the Northlands! - said the messenger, and kneeled down infront of the King and the Prince.

The Prince looked at his father, the King, awaiting a reply of some short, he wasn't used to making such decisions himself, but in his eyes, everyone could see the desire for action and command.

"Go, my son. Forge your own fate..." - King Zvonimir said after seconds of silence. "Vajk! Aldwyn!" - He called out to commanders of a thousands hungarian nomads, and a thousand knights. "From now on you are under command of my son, and will follow him wherever he goes, do whatever he commands."

"I will not fail, father. I shall rule the Northlands as you have taught me." - Prince Stephan said shortly, then he mounted his horse. He gave quick commands to his men, and has begun to march them north.

Prince Stephan has such set out north with 2000 men, and has recruited 2000 more along his way. With the two armies of his father and his own, almost the whole of Varasd was in arms, yet most people still did not know the reason for that. Everyone knew something is happening, something big, but only rumours from markets and inns could be heard...
The 4000 strong host is traveling up north, avoiding the Polish lands, in order to reach the Gepidae lands, as soon as possible. Prince Stephan has painted a red cross on his flag, on his shield, on his armor aswell. "This shall be our symbol! We are warriors of Christ, and we will save the Gepidae Northlands!", he said, and many have followed his example. By the time the army reached the northern borders of Varasd, all of the soldiers wore a red cross, either on their shields, their armbands, or their chest.

Prince Stephan with the new symbol of his army

[Polska]

Gniezno, Wielkopolska

The sun rose over Gniezno, and life began again. Women, men, and children came outside from their homes and went to work. Bogdan walked past a few homes, looking around at the people. He had two warriors with him. A blonde woman came outside and caught the great warrior's eye. He glanced towards her and smiled, and she turned her head slightly and returned a smile. The thumping of hooves broke their exchange, as a horseman came riding in with great haste into the town. 

"Bogdan! Panie Bogdanie!" He cried. 

"What? Kurwa what is it?" Bogdan demanded as the rider got off his horse. 

"The Christians to the North have broken into civil war! A few clans and traders near the border have reported that it seems as if the Order has splintered into different factions. The Ksiąź must know about this as soon as possible." 

"Then I shall send one of my men to inform him. How serious is it?" 

"It sounds very serious, Panie Bogdanie. Our neighbors are destabilized and weak." 

Bogdan thought for a few moments, "No nic, I will organize a few men and travel North to scout," he turned to his warriors, "I want an army raised within the week. Find strong and capable men from all over Polska."

"Tak jest."

********

Bogdan stepped into the main hall, where a few of his most trusted companions and war-brothers stood, waiting for his arrival. "Panowie," he began with a nod, "I'm leaving tonight for the Christian lands, and I'm taking a small force of warriors with me, to scout. We will hopefully arrive in the foreign forests by sunrise. I will attempt to gather information. I have already ordered to have a capable army assembled while I am gone."

"You mean to raid our neighbors?" One of the warriors asked. 

"If possible, yes. Perhaps we will take a few women back with us," he chuckled, "but I'm also interested in this civil war of their's. I feel there may be much for us to gain, if there were to be a side for us to choose..."

The warriors nodded and agreed. 

"Jaromir," Bogdan faced one of the warriors, a tall, strong man with long blonde hair and a beard, "I entrust Gniezno to you. I trust you will be capable of defending and governing it, bracie." 

"It would be my honor, bracie." 

Bogdan nodded and glanced around the men, "then we are done here. Sława, friends."

"Sława!"

[Juttlande]

Ribe, Jutland

It was during the late hours of dusk, several days after the fact, that news of the succession crisis in the old Crusader States reached the boisterous and noisy halls of the Danish High King. A straw-haired, young envoy quickly weaved in an out through the crowd of the mead hall in a desperate attempt to reach the King's ear. The night's festivities, a result of the week's bountiful raids, was making his path to the King a difficult affair to say the least, and Harald's throne was quite far away. In his haste, the young envoy misjudged the gap between two drunk warriors and lost his footing attempting to bridge it. He landed on the hard wood floor of the hall right before the King.

The King's bodyguards rushed to him and lifted him to his feet, yet still holding him still. The once noisy feast was now quieter than the city's sacred forest.

"Hold there man, what urgent thing do you have to say to the High King?"

"King Harald, my lord, I come from the Baltic bearing news from the Christian states!" The envoy called out to the seated King.

Harald nodded to his steward who spoke in his stead. "Go then, speak!"

"The Christians in the Gepidae lands have split apart. Petty lords now attack each other, eager to pillage and kill among themselves in the pursuit of land, wealth and power. Some further seek help from whoever shall provide."

The hall erupted in quiet mummers in response to the man's words. Some whispered hushed cheers, most stayed silent eager to hear the response from their chieftain.

"My lord, we should attack now! Their may be no better time to strengthen our claims in the Baltic." Sven Ironsides, Jarl of Hafn, blurted from the crowd.

"Nonsense! The time is too early. We should await the return of more of our men from England!" Ofah Ultredson, Jarl of Lund, interjected.

With a slam of his axe-handle, King Harald silenced the clamor instantly. He rose from his throne of furs and searched through the crowd.

"I did not become King to sit back and watch while others quarreled about where to send my armies! I am High King! I lead the Danes! I say when it is time to attack and I say when it is time to wait! ME!" Harald commanded with his thunderous voice.

"Well then, what say you father! The Christian lands to the south and east are fractured and bleeding. How should we react?" Prince Bjorn, the king's middle son, called out to his father.

Harald smiled wide.

"Brothers, fellow Danes, put down your plows and raise your axes! Consult with the gods and garner their blessings. Set your affairs for we shall sail to the Gepidae lands in two days hence. I shall take all Jarls with me! Let us see how these Baltic lords live!"

The hall erupted in a vociferous cheering, chanting and singing. Men poured their cups full of mead and stolen wines while servants continued to fill their plates with mutton. The feast was to continue, for in the morning, a host of over 5000 Danish warriors would prepare for another voyage.

[House of Judah]

The twelve riders in two columns of six were a strange sight as they rode towards Stephan’s camp. All twelve wore differently colored coats, though central upon them were the same arms of a silver field with twelve blocks, arranged in three columns of four, and each block colored the same as one of the twelve coats. Each of the twelve also carried different armaments, a crossbow, a sword and shield, a quarterstaff… Each of the twelve was unique. Save for the two who rode at the front, they joked with each other easily even as they rode to the gates of the camp palisade. The rider at the front of the left hand column wore a bronze lepper’s mask. The man at the head of the right hand seemed almost to recline in saddle, almost as though his horse was swaggering to the gate. He pulled himself more upright as he finally arrived at the gate and hailed the guards.

“Ho there, friend. I am Reuben son of Jacob, and these eleven men-at-arms are my brothers. Is this the camp of Stephan son of Zvonimir of Konsky, Prince of Varasd and rightful King of Gepidae? If so, I would beg his highness’s indulgence to grant myself and my brothers an audience.”

[Cybelos [ERE]]

To His Grace, Viceroy Erik of Riga,

We have received your call to arms. If we were not busy within our own realms I'm sure we could spare good fighting men to the cause.
But, fear not, you are not alone in this fight. I am willing to assist a man as just as yourself.

What I suggest is this: You would grant the Ministry of Trade of Cybelos the ability to establish a trading company out of your ports cities in exchange for gold and silver to better your position in this horribly bloody civil war that envelops your proud nation. With the riches that will soon flood your ports you will be able to raise armies tenfold.  (I know how devastating war can be to sea trade, and I assure you we would be willing to hire mercenaries to protect our investment.)

Regards,
King Alexander I
Given at the city of Tyrn

[Varasd]

Reply to Judea:

As the army was taking in any volunteers along the road, the twelve riders were quickly welcomed, and soon they were led to Prince Stephan, who was right in the middle of his commanders tent, planning his route and attacks along with his commanders. When the newcomers arrived in his tent, he ordered everyone to leave, aside from Vajk, and Aldwyn, leaders of the hungarian and german cavalry units.

"Greetings." - Stephan said quckly. "We don't have much time for courtesy, so state your business."

[House of Judah]

“There is always time for courtesy, Your Highness.  Or should that be Your Majesty, given your rightful claim?  It is no matter.  In deference to your desire for brevity I shall keep it short.  I am Reuben son of Jacob, eldest of my brothers.  We are experienced adventurers who have sought you out to enlist within your army.  It is our hope to aid you in taking your rightful throne and, once you are firmly seated there, to be granted land to farm and stead as loyal subjects of our most noble and royal king.  We are skilled as men-at-arms, but have other talents as well.  My brother Simeon is an engineer without equal.  Benjamin can track any quarry he pleases, and never be seen.  I myself have skill as a surgeon.  These and more skills are all yours to command, my prince, all for the price of a little land.”

[Kingdom of Calabria]

The Emir's Palace, Floriana, Malta

Hadi bin Harisah stormed through the palace gates, virtually knocking over the guards as they began their salutes.  It was a mentally excruciating journey back from Rome, given the events that transpired there.  Hadi was unsure of how the remainder of the Council ended, but his father? His own father?! An infidel!!  It was almost too much to bear.  When Emir Harisah uttered the name of the Christian's god and claiming it as his own "savior and lord" Hadi silently rose to his feet and left the room.  And now he was back at the place of his birth, not quite looking forward to explaining himself to his mother and his brothers.

That night, over a wonderfully prepared meal, he unfolded the tale to his family.  His mother sat silently, almost knowing that it would have inevitably come to this.  His sisters exclaimed shock.  Both his brothers, Bulus and Ridwan, leapt from their chairs.

Ridwan:  "Brother!  Tell me you jest!"

Hadi:  "Nay, brother, I speak true.  He is no longer ours."

The oldest of the sisters, Shahd, provided some sort of solution: "Hadi, if I may be so bold to speak out of turn."  He nodded.  "May I suggest the aide of the Fatimid Kaliph?"

Bulus:  "The Mad Kaliph?  He may slaughter us for merely mentioning the blaspheme of our father."

Ridwan:  "He may be mad, but not mad enough to renounce the teachings of Muhammed, peace be upon him."

Hadi:  "Truth.  Brothers, tonight we ride for the guidance of Imam al-Hakim.  And from here forward, we shall no longer be 'bin Harisah'.  We will be known as 'bin La'ahad(1)'.  ALLAHU AKBAR!!"

1: la 'ahad = nobody".

Just West of Køge Bay

The meeting with the Kaliph had gone surprisingly well.  After all, he had not cut the brothers down, in a fit of absolute rage, as he had done to many of his own sheiks and viziers.  The Kaliph had spies everywhere throughout the whole of Europe and had learnt not only of Emir Harisah's blasphemy but of a distant land's internal strife.  Perhaps it had been the Kaliph's own subversives which set in motion the events?  No one could say, and the Kaliph would say "yes" regardless of the truth.  Maybe it was purely political, or maybe there was actually some fiqh(2) to his reasoning (after all, the three weren't scholars) but the Kaliph had directed them to take as many of the Calabrian naval vessels as they could muster .  "You must spread Islam!  There is a power vacuum in the Land of the Gepidaen.  Those heathens and infidels squabble amongst each other, while Muhammed the Rightful Ruler of the World, peace be upon him, waits for his soldiers to begin the jihad! Only then will I be willing to embrace your father.  ALLAHU AKBAR!!"

The brothers returned to Malta to gather as many Believers as possible.  They set about alerting the local imams, and soon word had spread to southern Sicily regarding the brother's intentions.  In total eleven ships, carrying 1100 Islamic warriors, launched from the port in Floriana en route to the north. To avoid detection through many waters they flew the Calabrian Republic's flag, and beneath, the pennant of the merchant-ship:



They carried with them arms of all types and shields painted black:



Hadi bin La'ahad: "Brothers! And Brothers in arms!  Soon we shall reach the lands of the infidels.  I know not what we shall see when we reach our destination, yet Muhammed, peace be upon him, will guide our arrows and strengthen our resolve.  We will cut off the head of The Dragon to establish a New Caliphate in the northern lands!"

"ALLAHU AKBAR!!!!" shouted the jihadis, their voices stretching to the heavens.

(2): fiqh = islamic jurisprudence

[Azaq]

The men glanced over the village from a hill, peering down on the unsuspecting Baltic tribesmen who followed their heathen ethnic gods. But these men were not here to raid, for they were only three and bore an important message, from an important man. Astride their horses, they soon began to descend upon the village, albeit slowly so as not to be seen as a threat.

Leading the center was a man named Bogd, a fierce Mongol commander renowned for his usage of successful baiting tactics against enemy forces. He was towering, bulky man with an intimidating figure who stood taller than the average man and loyal to end to his Khan. To his right as a man by the name of Turghun, who was of more average build and height, and whose facial features revealed his mixed Turco-Mongol heritage. A more care-free and reckless warrior, his very presence irritated Bogd, while the latter's presence made Turghun uneasy, fearful of his stern teachings and legendary anger.

To Bogd's left was another man, this one neither Turk nor Mongol, but a member of the Southern Rus' tribes named Boleslav, who had enthusiastically converted to Zoroastrianism and willingly joined the army of the Khanate that now ruled over his tribe. An ambitious man, and an intermediate in age between the elder Bogd and the young Turghun, he was ever the linguistic master, having full knowledge of not only his native tongue, but also of Mongolian, Farsi, and also possessed knowledge of a spattering of the Turkish dialects, some Greek, and enough of the Baltic tongues that he could communicate with them with ease. And so his presence was merely as a translator, though he like the other two came armed in the case of an escalation of hostilities.

The three men soon came to the outskirts of the village, baring the banners of the Khanate of Azaq, and making sure to draw attention to themselves.

"Ho, fair people! We bring you no ill-will, but bare a message - and an opportunity - from our great leader to you! Our great Khan has heard of your attempts to escape from the rule of the Cross-bearers, these fiendish invaders that follow the cult of the long-dead desert preacher! The Khan has no love for these heathens who spread their faith by sword and bow, and so wishes to assist you in your insurrection! Bring forth your own leader or leaders, so that we may provide them with the ways and means to secure their independence - and perhaps much more!"

As Boleslav finished delivering his message, the party waited for a reaction, any reaction, to occur. Though they hoped that the chieftain or whomever was in charge would reveal himself and accept this aid.

[Varasd]

Reply to Judea:

Stephan, Aldwyn and Vajk looked at the men, turned at each other, and they all nodded in silence.
"Very well," - said Stephan - "If you swear to serve me, you shall be rewarded with lands and title. Now, I hope you are not too tired for a bit of marching, because we are going to do so for a while. We need to avoid the polish lands, for the pagans are prone to treachery. I need my army to arrive safe and sound to the Gepidea Lands..."

The army, that was quietly in camp just a couple of hours ago, has left nothing behind but smoking campfires in the meadow. Now, they were marching "North", as Stephan told his men when asked where they were going, and they followed him without doubt. Every local they met had mixed feeling about the army - most of them rejoiced upon seeing soldiers with the Cross, so close to the pagan lands, but many of them lost this joy upon seeing the hungarian nomads in the army, marching along with the knights. The time when the hungarians raided most of Europe was but a few generations past, and in many places there were still local legends about how barbaric the easterners are.
Vajk, and the hungarians did not mention anything about the hostility of the locals to Prince Stephan. They were more proud than ashamed that their ancestors are still remembered by the villagers of these realm. "Újra megtudják, kik vagyunk mi, magyarok!*" - Vajk said.

Chieftain Vajk, leading his horsemen

Route of Stephans Army:

* "Újra megtudják, kik vagyunk mi, magyarok!" = "They will learn again, who we are, hungarians!"

[House of Judah]

“Oh rest assured, my prince, we are not yet weary from the road.  Come my brothers, our prince commands us to the road once more.  Benjamin, Dan, go out among the prince’s scouts and ensure our way ahead is secure.”  Two of the brothers, one wearing an orange tunic and the other the one who wore a leper mask, who wore a brown tunic, nodded and left the tent.  They each donned a brown hooded capes and made their way into the wilderness.  They seemed to disappear almost instantly as they passed the tree line.

As they rode out from the camp, one of the brothers, this one in a grey tunic, rode close to Reuben.  The spoke together briefly and Reuben nodded before drawing his horse close to Prince Stephan.

“My prince,” he said.  “Have you considered embarking your army upon barges and travelling north by the Oder River?  True, the eastern bank of the river is heathen land, but travelling by river will greatly reduce the travel time, even allowing us to continue our journey while we rest at night, and it is far more difficult to attack a barge on the move than a camp stationary on the land.  My brother Zebulon knows a man from a village called Ostrava who could see us boarded safely, for a price.”

[Varasd]

Reply to Judah:

"A solid plan! Let us do so." Prince Stephan nodded with a satisfied expression on his face. "Your brother Zebulon, and Aldwyn will together travel forward to that village, and prepare the ships. I do not want any time wasted."

After Aldwyn has departed, Stephan continued to Reuben.
"You, and your brothers. Tell me about yourself. Where do you hail from? I need to know my future vassals, and now it is time."

Meanwhile, the army followed the leaders quietly. Prince Stephan has ordered the lines so, that hungarians, croatians and germans had to travel together, and not separated from each other. There were some minor fights along the way, but the majority got used to the presence of the others. The germans and hungarians seemed to get along fine, given that both groups mainly mustered horsemen - it was common sight that the two groups tried to speak each others languages, too.
Prince Stephan was satisfied with this. His father ruled a kingdom with three nations, and he spoke croatian, german and hungarian, along with latin and italian aswell. The Prince was educated so as well, and the polish and bohemian locals in these lands spoke a fairly similar tongue to the croatian.

[House of Judah]

Reuben nodded to Prince Stephan when he agreed to his brother’s idea.

“Zebulon,” he called.  “You and the captain of knights will go contact your man in the village Ostrava.

“Aye, brother,” Zebulon responded and spurred his horse forward, continuing on with Aldwyn.  Reuben watched them go before responding to the prince.

“I’m afraid there is not much to tell, my prince.  We are a small fellowship of adventurers and mercenaries of Eastern Mediterranean origin.  I confess we left home under less than agreeable circumstances, and there is no chance of our returning.  Our father was a brute of a man, abusive of his children and servants.  I had taken exception to his treatment and struck him, an event which effected my own exile.  My sibling’s decision to join me at the time prevents their own return.  So we have traveled together.  Since we left home, we have seen much of Europe, and have fought in the wars of other, greater men.  Initially the coin seemed ample reward for our efforts, but recently it has occurred to us that gold and silver are oft more temporary rewards.  The time has come for us to seek a semblance of permanence, hence our desire for payment in land.”

---

As they rode along the road, Aldwyn could hear Zebulon singing.  It was a crude barroom song about a fisherman’s wife who would see her husband to sea every day before going to the tavern and cuckolding him with the very fish merchant he sold his catch to.  The lyrics of the middle verses were downright pornographic, detailing the perverse acts of the adulterers.  The final verse concluded with the fisherman seducing the fish merchant’s wife and laying with her in the barroom of the tavern the adulterers rented their room in as vengeance against the two who had wronged them.  Zebulon smiled the smile of lecher likely known to at least half the whores of Europe at Aldwyn as he concluded the bawdy verse, then laughed heartily at his song.

[Varasd]

Aldwyn of Laibach looked at Zebulon for a while, when he was singing, then, when the profane parts came, he began to laugh. The knight from Laibach was a large man, and scars were all across his body - including an ugly burnt scar on his face, which he gained when fighting against the hungarian tribes, and a flaming arrow partially hit through his chainmail coif. He spoke german, and some broken latin and croatian, which he learned in the court and in the armies. Hungarian, he could not stand, and every soldier in the Varasdian army knew of this.

"You sing good - and lively. Unlike those Pfaffen*. Tell me your house, I don't know your crest."

When the two with their companies arrived in the village of Ostrava, Aldwyn ordered his men to stop. "Now, we'll wait right outside the village. You go and negotiate with them. Lowest price, and the Prince will be happy."

Aldwyn of Laibach before departure, eyeing Zebulon

*Pfaffen = From latin "papa" (father), a german word for priests, monks.

[House of Judah]

“My house, such as it is, is that of the Twelve Brothers.  We are outcast of our father’s house for defying him and his cruelty.  We have none but each other, and truly need few others.  I would not have it otherwise.  Be at peace.  I will find my man within the village.  And you might do well to remove your cross.  These are not Christian lands, and we shall not see such again until we are arrived in Gepidae.”

---

Zebulon entered the inn of the village and immediately ducked his head to avoid the carelessly thrown mug that struck the wall beside him.  He looked about quickly before finding his man.  If anything, the pig of a man had grown fatter since last Zebulon had seen him.  Even now he was stuffing his mouth to over full with the meat of some bird.  Zebulon made his way to the table and made himself known to the man.

“Tomislav, is there ever a time you are not eating?”  The man looked up at him and gave a shout, expelling food from his mouth.

“Zebulon!  You old pirate.”  He stood and embraced the mercenary.  “It has been too long since you have come to me.  My purse is light of your coin.  You are always good business.  Have you eaten?  Radegast blesses me with food that I might share it with others.”

“I accept with pleasure, though I am hardly the one to be called a pirate.”  Zebulon sat at the man’s table and grabbed some meat as Tomislav laughed.

“Fair enough.  So, what brings you and your brothers to me once more?”

“We have a new employer, who needs passage by river north for his host.”

“What size the host?”

“Four thousand, plus supplies and followers.”

“That is quite the number.  I would need at least thirty barges for such a movement.  More than I have of my own.  I will need to bring in others.  The price will go up for them to work with me.”

“The price is not a matter.  My patron is a man of great means, though I warn you he is not to be cheated.”

“You wound me.  I would never cheat a man in a dealing of business.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, just as I am sure the dice you cast in your games are never weighted.”

“Ha!  Still, such a force going north.  I would guess that you are bound for Gepidae.  They say that Bogdan has plans for that land.  Such a host would surely interfere with his plans.”

“That isn’t a problem is it?”

“I piss on Bogdan and his tribe of whoresons, and may the gods piss on him as well.”

“Then I need not worry about river pirates as we journey.”

“I piss on Bogdan.  Others like him.  It will cost to keep them away.”

“Now I know you try to cheat me.  None of those bastards would dare go against you on the river.  If ever you try to cheat me again, or betray me, I will rip off your head, shit in your mouth and fuck your throat with my fat cock.”  The two stared death at each other for a moment.  Then Tomislav burst out laughing.

“I always liked you, Zebulon.  You curse like a Slav, drink like a German and fuck like a Northman.  I am unsure who between us has more bastards.  Go and get your host, and I shall embark them.  It will take three days.  I shall meet you at Barnov.”

“Till Barnov, then.”  Zebulon stood and made to leave.

“I wonder, Zebulon, if you will ever give me your real name.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting, Tomislav.  You’re liable to die before you learn it.”

---

“My business is concluded,” Zebulon said as he approached Aldwyn.  “It will cost, but the Prince has a king’s ransom and the speed will doubtlessly save more in lives and coin than the cost of the barges. They shall meet us at Barnov in three days time."

[Varasd]

"Good man." - Aldwyn nodded quietly, and then shouted orders to two men, in german. They rode off to the road from where they came from.

"We will await the army in this village, and travel to this Barnov together." - Aldwyn looked at his men, and turned towards them.

"Everyone, pay attention! We will await Prince Stephan here. Until they arrive, you can rest. The village and the villagers are not to be harmed in any way! Understood?!"

After the soldiers all acknowledged the orders, Aldwyn turned to Zebulon once again. Before speaking, he spat on the ground.

"We will not take down our crosses because of some pagan peasants. Tell me, Zebulon, do you know these men? Can they be trusted? If so, you could try to recruit some of them. Locals might come handy, if they can be relied on."

- - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Prince Stephan ordered the men to march without rest. They need to reach the southern parts of the Gepidae lands as fast as possible, they can rest there.
The hungarians of the army seemed restless when the word spread about the river transports. Without the mobility of their swift horses, they felt half as strong as usual. This made them uneasy, and in short time, this could be clearly seen - no songs were sung by them, no laughing, just quiet talking.

The germans and croatians, however, were happier than usual. Finally the long marching could come to an end, and it was a reason enough to be cheerful.

"In battle, do you and all your brothers hold your own?" Prince Stephan asked Reuben. "I'll give a handful of infantrymen under your command, to prove. Later, even a thousand, maybe."

[House of Judah]

“I know them well enough to put a portion of coin in their hand to rent their boats, take them aboard with us and give them the final portion after we are delivered to our destination.  Tomislav would not betray us to the Polska, but he would not be above cheating us if given the opportunity.  There are guides in the area who might be hired, though I know not many of them.  That is more the domain of some of my other brothers.”

---

“We’d be poor mercenaries if we could not withstand the rigors of combat, my prince,” Reuben replied.  “Give a company of men to Gad, he will see them to discipline and make them as an unshatterable wall.  A squadron of light cavalry beneath Menasseh is effective for quick raids, and a heavy one beneath Naftali will thunder through enemy lines.  Some of us have other uses than combat, though.  Asher will aid your quartermasters, Benjamin and Issachar will scout.  As I said before, Simeon is an engineer and I am a surgeon.  Zebulon is more the mariner than a landsman, though he can hold his own upon solid earth.  Dan… well, let’s just say that Dan can give a fair fight, but he is more inclined to far subtler weapons.   Ephraim, my larger brother,” Reuben nodded to the large man in a black coat, “is as a golem.  He’s ripped a man’s arm clean off and beat him to death with it.  I’ve seen him take as many as five arrows and keep fighting.  And as for Judas, well he is beloved by God.  I’ve seen him wade into a mass of enemies with little more than sword and shield and yet somehow emerge unscathed a hundred times or more.  It is as though some angel stands with him and defends him from each and every blow.  I understand it not, but it has been useful to us and our employers in the past.”

[Varasd]

Prince Stephan has remained quiet for a minute or so, clearly thinking. Finally he spoke:
"Very well then. Gad, Judas and Ephraim shall command 300 infantrymen, they can pick the ones they would like to lead. Naftali will serve as an officer under Aldwyn, my commander of the heavy cavalry... Zebulon as well, as the two know each other already. Menasseh will be under Vajk, he's the hungarian who leads our light cavalry. Benjamin and Issachar will serve there as well, for our scouts are hungarians. Their horses are so quick, you will be suprised. Asher, Simeon, Dan, and You as well, shall serve in my personal unit, in case every man is needed for battle. Otherwise, you can do your respective things. You shall ride next to me, and be my doctor.

The army soon arrived at the village where the vanguard has stationed. Aldwyn quickly rode to Prince Stephan, and reported about the fleet. As it was still mid-day, no camp was set, instead the men were given 1 hour of break and resting, before they would move on to the ships. The villagers eyed the whole army with suspicion, half of it because of the crosses, half of it for being nomadic raiders. Prince Stephan felt this as well, and has openly given an order to the army, infront of the villagers, that nobody shall be harmed in any way.

[Crusader]

Update of factions and affiliations.

Lord Jalo of the Åland Islands:
~3,800 assorted men.
~1,000 Sami light infantry.

Baron Jaak of Estonia
~1,500 assorted men.
~700 inter-country volunteers.

Suzerains
~Unknown largest tribes averaging 700 fit men.

Viceroy Erik of Riga
~900 assorted men.
~300 volunteers.
~200 noble volunteer cavalry.

Lord Steward Reinhard
~500 retinue.
~300 tied in peasant suppression.

Lord Mayor Fullum of Visby
~200 Patrician Guard.
~400 levy.
~Unknown amount of troops actively helping or sympathetic to rebellion.

Jack, the Peasant
~4,000 unskilled assorted men.
~1,000 defected National Guard.

The Saintly Realm, Bishop Mertin
~2,000 loyal National Guard.
~500 St. George's Knights in service.
~300 tied in occupied territory.
~200 on the border.

The Order of St. George, Crown Prince Stephan Konsky (also Varasdian-aligned forces)
~4,000 Varasdian combined forces.
~2,000 assorted Varasd cavalry disbursed along trade-routes and local garrisons.
~1,500 Gepidean infantry (St. George Order's) in Marienburg.
~200 Gepidean men-at-arms with the assorted Varasd cavalry.

Polska
~Unknown

Juttlande
~5,000 assorted men en-route via sea.

Calabrian (Islamic) Republic(an) (Brothers)
~1,100 assorted men.

Bogd's party.
~2 men

[Crusader]

To His Grace, Viceroy Erik of Riga,

We have received your call to arms. If we were not busy within our own realms I'm sure we could spare good fighting men to the cause.
But, fear not, you are not alone in this fight. I am willing to assist a man as just as yourself.

What I suggest is this: You would grant the Ministry of Trade of Cybelos the ability to establish a trading company out of your ports cities in exchange for gold and silver to better your position in this horribly bloody civil war that envelops your proud nation. With the riches that will soon flood your ports you will be able to raise armies tenfold.  (I know how devastating war can be to sea trade, and I assure you we would be willing to hire mercenaries to protect our investment.)

Regards,
King Alexander I
Given at the city of Tyrn

To his esteemed Majesty King Alexander I, Lord of Cybelos.

The Heavens will speak of your piety, and you have my most generous gratitude. I would agree to your suggestion but I have several fears.

My fellow countryman Lord Mayor Fullum of Visby's affiliations are not known to me, he has control of the surrounding sea, and has for a long-time had a strangle-hold on both inter-national and local trade. Furthermore, the distances involved between our two nations are un-sailable, without months of stopping and negotiation with the World's various principalities and nations. And should you find a safe and economical way to navigate to the Baltic Coast, I fear the various Pagan and un-Christian northern barbarians would be very willing to plunder your convoys.

I propose we negotiate with our fellow Christian, Prince Konsky of Varasd, per-chance he may allow transit of your convoys through his lands and under the protection of his Army.

Your's gratefully;

Erik of Riga

[Crusader]

snip

The Baltic Tribesmen looked up in astonishment, these folk; aside from a man known to be from the Rus, had never been seen before. They were weird with their thick accents and unique armour.

As Boleslav completed his speech a meekish man of average stature approached the trio, in his wake a few hastily equipped spearmen; and with a keen eye could be seen as older persons, perhaps farmers.

"T-to you esteemed voices of your Great Khan. We thank you of your most kind and noble offer. I am Andrus, and I speak for this village. Our Chieftain is in battle with the daemon Hendrik, and will not return for several days, but it is not him you will wish to approach with your noble offer Lords. We are but a minor village in a larger confederacy. The High Chieftain Hallus resides 5-days-as-the-crow-flies from here. And if you shall allow me I can provide rest, food and an escort."

The speech is infused with many crude bows and semi-fearful looks.

Now that your party has had a chance to review your surroundings, the village would house maybe at most 60 persons, many men are missing and presumably are in combat with this 'Hendrik'. A half-palisade was in construction but is apparently abandoned. Aside from that nothing it special, neither poor nor rich, populous nor deserted. It would be one of many of local village dotted around the low-Estonian plains.

[Crusader]

First official, battle and political map of the Civil War!

Map - v1.0
https://imgur.com/zLYSaUf

If possible, when proposing troop movements, supply chains, important forts and etc. Please label on the map!

You can then attach it to the post, via imgur preferably. Then when I eventually do another map update, I'll draw it in the style above!

Quick update

https://i.imgur.com/Pd5exon.png

Basic labeling until next map where I draw a thorough key.

[Varasd]

After receiving the ships, and sailing down the river, the army of St. George, led by Prince Stephan, is finally planning to disembark, to the much rejoice of the hungarian horsemen. The army will disemark, make camp, and rest for a while here, and then turn northeast-east, to finally reach the remains of the once great Gepidae Order, namely the Saintly Realm, who is still loyal to the Prince.

Route of the Army of St. George (click to enlarge)

[Juttlande]

After almost three weeks of arduous sea travel, the lead ships of Harold's Great Viking Army had finally sighted land. To their surprise, the leading ship reported that the land in question appeared to be an island. The Danes were expert navigators and sailors and had used primitive, but tried-and-true methods of finding their way through the Baltic Sea. Having raided the area for centuries, the Danish forces were more than adept at finding their target.

Leading the Danish force was a small contingent of about 10 or so longships carrying 160 men - some of Harold's most elite warriors. Veterans of countless raids and the several keys battles of the Jutish Civil Wars precluding his rule, Harold's Chosen represented the vanguard of the Viking host. With the army only a few days behind them by sea, the vanguard finally turned their sails and oarsmen to the task of breaking landfall.

Jarl Guthrum, a brute of a man with a thick dark beard and a characteristic scar carving through his right eye, was the leader of the company. As soon as his ships reached the shore he set them to the task of securing the beachhead. There was no saying as to whether or not the locals had seen their ships make their landing, and as the first-wave their job was to do some reconnaissance.

About an hour into their landing, some of the warriors had captured a few children who had been herding sheep in a nearby field. One was a small boy with no more than 5 or 6 summers to his life. The other was much older, about 15 or 16.
Obviously terrified of the seaborn devils, the older boy nonetheless put on a brave scowl.

"What is the name of your tiny piss island, boy," Guthrum inquired, kneeling down in front of the boy on his axe.

The boy looked on defiantly and did not answer. Guthrum asked a second time with a man who spoke the language of the Gepidae. This time the boy spat in his face.

Guthrum wiped the boy's spit from his face calmly and stood up. "If you wish to act like a man, you must prove it." He pulled out his sword from its scabbard and through it at the boy's feet. "Pick it, up."

The boy grabbed it without hesitation and rushed towards the Viking in a passionate, but untrained assault. Guthrum parried the first two of his strikes before he finally disarmed the boy with a locking and twisting of his axe. The boy looked up at the Norseman with a frightened look, but Guthrum only smiled. The boy smiled back sheepishly, and that was when Guthrum cut him down. The boy fell dead in one fell stroke of the Viking's axe.

"Should have just told me the name," he chuckled, wiping the boy's blood from his axe.

The younger boy broke out in a sob eliciting a look and grin from some of the Vikings. "We are on the Isle of Visby! Please don't kill me!" He blurted out through his sobs. At this the Vikings broke out in a hearty laugh.

"Visby?" Guthrum played with the word in his mouth. "Very well. Send a raven with word out to sea. But why don't we enjoy ourselves why we wait."

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