Years of Tears: English-Irish Conflict

[Omar Nelson B.]

Years of tears: Anglo-Celtic conflict


Prologue

The year is 1310 and the English have been locked in a bitter war with the stubborn and hardy Irish. War has raged on and off for over 20 years. Both sides have lost and gained over the years. The Irish have suffered the most losing the entire south of their beloved land and Dublin. A rock of Irish spirit which had broken the English back for 4 long years but ultimately fell due to the wicked and dark ways that the English use. After 3 failed attempts to take the walls, the English king resorted to tactics that have not been used since the destruction and pacification of the Scots almost 100 years ago. “Shadow War” is now being use by the Tri-lion King and he as call upon the best of the cutthroats and diplomats. Dublin fell not to the sword and shield or spear but by the pen. Now under the mighty fist of Lewes Greystroke, Dublin is the jumping off point for the English Crusade to wipe out the Irish. Lewes alone is the Duke of South Ireland and he is a vicious man who is not a stranger to blood. Some say that he laughs in the red mist of children and women’s blood but that is just…a ledged… There is also Sir Henry Beauclerk, who is kind to his men and fair to the enemy. The soldiers who would fight for Henry love him as a son loves and admires his father. On the other side there is a man who once fought for the English but could not kill his bothers. Cian O Cu Dhuibh and his two brothers now fight for the Irish; proud to lead his real blood brothers and men he calls brothers against the lions.

The scene is set and will unfold in unknown ways. Time will tell and blood of good men will be spilt. Sons from both sides will die and mother will cry not caring about the ideals of politicians and generals. The years of tears are here…..

Chapter 1

Bridgeford Castle: Wolves at the Gates


West of Dublin lays the castle of Bridgeford. Owned by Sir Lewes Greystroke it stems the tide of “wild men” who would run through English land like flood water through a valley if there was no dam. In the early morning of the summer of 1310 a English scout is seen in the distance racing to the safety of the castle walls. Dust billows from the road as his tired stallion foams at the mouth and flares its nostrils. The rider, Richard Frykman, is panicked and bloodied in the leg due to an Irish arrow to the leg. He has just witnessed the Irishman Dhuibh burn an English settlement to the ground leaving nothing breathing.


Muttering to himself as he urges Horus onward faster and faster while looking at the 5 Irish boarder men who chase him

“These are his own people….how can he kill his own people? I must not be caught…Lewes must know they are coming… he must…”


Richard, to the horror of those in the castle looking on, is losing ground. The castle gate is in site and seems further away than it really is. The boarder rider nearest Richard is gritting his yellow teeth with anticipation of the kill. He carries a short spear that can be thrown but is also deadly in close quarters in the hands of a veteran. The gate is now open and close. All the boarder riders but one has turned away in fear of the longbow that watches over the English land. Realizing that there is now only one in pursuit Richard tugs on Horus’ reigns and in a flash the horse skids to the left, wielding around to face the enemy. There is a rage in the stallion’s eyes that is known only by and animal that has tasted man’s blood in battle. Richard draws his hand axe that shows battle wear. With lightning speed man and horse are upon the boarder rider. He attempts to level his spear and drive it through the Englishman’s chest but is ripped from the horse he rides before he has a chance. Richards axe has done good work this day and the rider’s throat is torn open by the blade.

Richard trots into the castle yard speckled with the enemy’s blood. After dismounting he takes a swig of water to clean his dusty dry mouth and wipes the blood off of his weapon on the grass.


Men are gathering all around him, cheering, smiling and laughing. A guard that witnessed the whole chase approaches Richard.


“The lord wants to see you at once!”


“Aye, how is his mood today?” Richard asked as he wiped the blood from his face and hand.


“Well,” the guard paused to pick is words carefully “he is, umm, still in the aggravated mood that he was in yesterday” the guard returned to his post although he wished that he could listen in on the scout’s meeting with Lewes Greystroke .


Richard proceeded to the lord’s chamber taking two steps at a time until he reached the giant closed door. Before he could knock a voice from inside beckoned him in. Sir Greystroke was in a bitter mood. He hated this land and the people that lived in it.


“Well? What did you find” he sneered.


“Sir, Dhuibh is in the town just over the river and has raided our settlements killing all that breathe. His army is sizable and very hardened. They are the same men, sir, which we fought against two winters ago. They will be upon us in two maybe three days…Sir”


“Fine, be gone”

Turning on his heal Richard walked briskly out of the room. In the middle of closing the door Richard heard Lewes speaking strategy to him-self becoming more and more angry as he played out each scenario in his violent head. There seemed to be more stairs this time on the return trip to the castle court. Richard had forgotten about the arrow shaft that was splintered in his outer right thigh. The pain was numbing and Richard took the stairs with a slight limp now. The adrenalin had worn off and blood still trickled from the wound. Richard headed towards the field surgeon, which was just a hot iron and some strong drink. He knew that the Irish wolves were coming and now it was time to sharpen the axe and repair his gear. The smell of rain filled Richard’s mind with thoughts of home and the simple life but that would have to wait. The Irish scouts were on the horizon and the rest would be there in a day or two with ladders and more.

[LlamaD]

€:
For the first part:

He has just witnessed the Irishman Dhuibh burn an English settlement to the ground leaving nothing breathing.

“These are his own people….how can he kill his own people?

You mean that the settlement was formerly irish? Otherwise, an irishman would gladly kill english people anyday .:hmmm:

Richard draws his hand axe that shows battle wear. With lightning speed man and horse are upon the boarder rider. He attempts to level his spear and drive it through the Englishman’s chest but is ripped from the horse he rides before he has a chance.

He should be the irish rider? (It reads as if could mean Richard - perhaps substitute with "The former Hunter", "Who", "The raging Irish", "Which" or "The yellow-teethed (one)" )

The smell of rain filled Richard’s mind...

followed by a picture of bright sunshine

some other minor things

Some say that he laughs in the red mist of children and women’s blood but that is just…a ledged…

legend?

On the other side there is a man who once fought for the English but could not kill his bothers

rrr?

-south ireland and dublin to the english...... perhaps a little map-pic to show?

The rider, Richard Frykman, is panicked and bloodied in the leg due to an Irish arrow to the leg....

....riding for the life of his leg on his horse with the leg on the side just below the saddle where the leg laid an egg legged further toward his goal, laying the leg on a leg's bed.



Otherwise, nice drama

€2:
Not correcting the errors afterwards - a sound strategy.



Nice, sharp pictures, interesting minimap, however from a dramatique-standpoint: there were several men just standing in some of the fightscenes..the limitations of the engine are well known, but for a FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! - Bloodshed -> results in Artistic score deductions.

[comment will be modified further & later on]

[Arch-hereticK]

What the hell are you guys talking about?

[Omar Nelson B.]

Prologue and first chapter tonight.

[Kjertesvein]

....

[Omar Nelson B.]

Conan ..er pathfinder will have to wait for another tale.

First two parts are up!
See the first post

[Kjertesvein]

Looks cool man. Let me know if you need any cin. pictures or just regular head pictures You need it to break up the text a bit, so that the readers mind don't wonder of to their own fantasy.
Otherwise, great text!

EDIT: like this...

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[Omar Nelson B.]

@BLW
Thanks for the points and all the offers for help. My plan is to have more pics in the coming updates for sure. I just didn;t have alot for the first parts. I would like to see what you can produce also of some English Knights with the cin-ed.

@Llama
Wow you really picked out some good things to touch on. I didn't even see any of them when I was proof reading. I guess that happens when you look at something for too long I will keep in mind that I need to be much more clear when I explain something.

You mean that the settlement was formerly irish? Otherwise, an irishman would gladly kill english people anyday .:hmmm:

The exterminated town was english supporters and soldier's families.

Quote:
Some say that he laughs in the red mist of children and women’s blood but that is just…a ledged…
legend?

Aye legend but again I need to be clear.

Thanks for the feedback

[Omar Nelson B.]

Chapter 2
Assault on Greystroke
Richard fell asleep that night to the lullaby sung by the rain. He awoke to men rushing to and fro. The dampness of the night’s rain still lingered on everything. Richard pulled on his clothes and boots and then set off to start his day. It was going to be a busy one. The Irish where less than a day away which was faster than the scouts, including Richard, had thought. They must have marched through the night. The soldiers all around were preparing the walls and gates for the imminent attack. Hardy Palmer and Afton Halstead were busy talking to each other while sharpening their blades. Neither man looked up to see Richard approach but both knew he was there. “Hey there mate, heard that you got a wee scratch on yer leg there and almost a spear in the backside” stated Hardy nodding towards Richard’s thigh. ‘”Too bad, I really want that wood chopper that ya carry” Hardy continued while laughing. “When do you lot tink those Irish will let me try out my bow here?” Hardy was a fine marksman and had broad shoulders to prove it. He had a ragged look that caused many to underestimate him initially. Hardy was a fierce warrior in close if his foe even got close enough for blade work. Neither Richard or Afton bothered to reply because Hardy’s question was about to be answered
The three blood brothers continued to sharpen their blades and restring bows that day until the Irish were ready for the assault when the sun was high. Dhuibh had wheeled up one siege tower, a set of ladders, and two rams. The rams and tower were made in a hurry and did not look as though they were very sturdy but they would never the less do the job at hand. At the sound of a great horn the Irish soldiers began.

The English had the walls covered by bowmen but not just any bowmen. The north, which was the lead wall and the west wall, which was protected by moat, was guarded by hardened companies of men at arms, longbow men and bill men. Afton and Hardy were both stationed on the far left side of the north wall. Richard was to be a part of the gate defense and would be involved in retaking the walls if that, god forbid, were to happen.
The Irish ram pressed forward first and the English longbows loosed a volley of arrows and fire arrows to eliminate the threat. Meanwhile the siege tower drew closer to the right side of the north wall. Before the Irishmen could get a full company off of the tower and onto the walls it was set afire by one well placed tar arrow leaving the frantic Irishmen stranded on the English walls. These men were not spared and were cut down methodically by English blades and arrows.



Now the attention had turned to the gate which was almost breached. A few more hits from that ram and Richard though that his head was going to explode. The noise was echoing around the castle every time the ram struck home. The anticipation was so thick that the men could almost taste it. Sweat began to run, mouths dried up and palms became damp. Richard gripped and fussed on his axe handle which had been worn almost smooth. Just when the English though that the battle would only be fought now at the gate the sly Irish launched their surprise ladder attack on the exposed east wall. Guarding the east wall was a depleted company of gunmen and sergeants at arms. The Irish had under the cover of darkness laid out the ladders close to the east walls and then had covered them with brush and leaves. Before the east wall could push the ladders off the Irish were on the wall and battling with an intense blood rage.



The cries of the east wall were not heard because the Irish ram had battered the gate and now the Irish main force was pressing for the court yard. Horsemen of Dhuibh, including some of the lord’s own bodyguard, were slashing at the men in front of and to the side of Richard. Screams of death were all around. Horse and man alike perished and Richard’s blade was now singing as he fought the Irish dogs.



The tide of battle had shifted and now the English in the yard drove the Irish back. There was urgency to the fighting due to the fact that the east was had fallen for the most part and there was Irish banners waving in a victorious rhythm back and forth. The men below, including Richard, now pressed the Irish out of the yard in an effort to retake the walls.

Seeing the Irish start to flee made the English title wave build. Now bill men were on the east wall and killing Irish by the dozens. Richard took the tower stairs two, sometimes three, at a time.


Irish were killed as they tried to run from the wall that they had now lost. Some jumped to their deaths others met death by being trampled. The fighting poured out to the front of the castle as the Irish fled for their lives.

The day was won! Dhuibh was embarrassed and his personal guard was slain.




The current situation is on the up for England and Richard. Here is a map shot. Only two cities are left for the Irish and the Spanish and Flemish boarder the English in what was France.

[Kjertesvein]

Awsome! You can use F2 to zoom in on the campaign mini map new cin-ed's in the social group

[Omar Nelson B.]

I have some bad news. After a break due to work/slight vacation, I came back to start work here again and too much dismay my, all of my save files are corrupt. I am not happy with what has happen but there is nothing that I can do. It was the best campaign that I had ever played or at least the most interesting. Sorry all and I hope that I can start another (not that this one was any good) but no guarantees.