Thanks a lot Mhaedros, and welcome here.
I am going to finish the fuc-king story, and maybe write more.I have some ideas...
I'm really pleased you enjoyed that... draft.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Thanks a lot Mhaedros, and welcome here.
I am going to finish the fuc-king story, and maybe write more.
I'm really pleased you enjoyed that... draft.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
2nd French Campaign (Part IV)
Chapter CXXII : Adieux
An de Grâce 1229 AC.Brittany.
Countryside.
!!!Medieval Music to listen!!!
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
After a while wandering in the dark, Johan, one of the knights siding me, showed us a little hill where some men were moving in tight formation. It was difficult to see correctly but those men were definitely not barbarians. They wore some armors, shields and helmets.
I smiled watching them. Michel wouldn’t be able to flee, or at least to avoid the fight.
It was a long long revenge. All the times I met him, I spared Michel because he was my brother but that evening, I felt that he had betrayed me one time too many.
He should pay for that.
I shouted to my men:
- “Mes amis,
On the top of that hill is my brother, Michel. He came with barbarians to invade France, terrorize the people and fight us. Now that we had destroyed his scum, it is time to cut its head once for all.
Michel had to pay the price of the blood.
Le prix du Sang…
A l’assault, avec plaisir s’il vous plait… »
My men all cheered and we galloped toward Michel’s men. As we approached, I understood that all the men we would have to face were on foot, and that they were wearing some French armors and standards.
“They are surely men that fled with Michel” I thought. “Let’s face those traitors.”
However, watching them, it seemed too easy to crush them with our war steeds. I apologized to commit such an unchivalric charge.
It is why I decided to stop my men in front of Michel’s last troops.
We were just in front of them, seeing those cowards that gave up their barbarian slaves. I smiled. They were as many of us. The night was coming. I felt it was the time to conclude the story of Michel life with an epic duel.
I shouted with strength:
- “Michel, my brother.
Michel, I know that you are here, amongst your men.
I know you are hiding, amongst a mixed bunch of cowards and traitors…
Michel, I offer you the honor to have a duel.
Est ce d’accord?”
I stopped and waited. The foes were not moving, like petrified by my words.
Nobody replied.
I frowned. Could Michel not be here ?
I finally shake my head and remembered how coward was my brother. He was surely shuddering and wetting his armor behind his men.
I dismounted my horse in silence and my men did the same.
I advanced slowly. Apart from some last birds and the whistle of the wind in the trees all around, everything was silent.
I stopped, at mid distance from the foes, and asked with disdain:
- “Are you all girls?
Did you really live in France to behave like that?
Where did you landed my ladies, in pussy land?
Michel, little bastard, did you still fear the view of a sword?
“
Nothing happened. My fury was increasing against those silent statues. I was waiting for finishing the fight. I needed to strike…
I was thinking about advancing further when I saw some movement at my left, behind the thick pine trees. I turned my head quickly and saw some feet.
A trap, it was a trap…
I had just the time to turn back when Michel knights and the hidden men charged simultaneously. I knew that my armor was too much heavy to escape.
I faced them, hearing my men running to protect me.
The hidden men were some French spearmen, probably other men that came with Michel. They were twice our number. We were definitely trapped by my bastard brother.
Our only luck was our courage and skills.
I charged them, followed by my knights.
What a pity to fight French brothers!
I winced when killing the first of my enemies.
We had enough foes all over the Kingdom not to be obliged to manage fratricidal struggles with my brother, waiting for my elder son…
What a pity!
I was not proud, but I felt it couldn’t stop if both Michel and I were alive at the end of this fight. It was enough; one of us had to stay in the ground, lying in his blood.
I didn’t have a lot of time to apologize. Michel knights took benefit of the trap, and rounded us to attack our back. We were completely surrounded.
It was a bloody massacre.
I asked Bertrand to lead the men that fought the spearmen, and I ordered the other knights to charge Michel’s men.
No mercy against traitors.
No mercy…
They were a lot, and really motivated, but we didn’t lose a lot of ground, and we finally succeeded to hold our position, despite the casualties. The spearmen began to fear us, to suffer the pain of our heavy strikes.
Poor men, they were dismantled, after spending so much time abroad.
Poor idiot men.
They deserved such a punishment.
I motivated my men, shouting, crying and fighting amongst them. It worked, as we pushed back the spearmen in the trees.
However, it was not a fair fight, as we were outnumbered by three to one. My men were more skilled, but couldn’t cope against three spears and swords pointing at them. It was harder and harder to fill the holes, and I quickly found myself in first line, fighting against trained knights.
They were five or even seven in front of me. They knew me.
I was the target. I couldn’t ask for mercy.
It was my life against theirs.
Ma vie contre la leur…
I couldn’t walk back, as a tree was protecting my back. I faced my fate that time, finding deep inside me the courage to cope with the bloodthirsty Michel’s assassins.
One by one, I stopped them, and cut them all.
I was a butcher.
I was surviving…
I felt indestructible!
And at this exact time, when everything seemed lost, and when I found the courage to grab the last rays of my life, I took sight of my brother…
I remembered his behavior, his moves that I knew by heart. He was surely an old man like me, but he surely never changed.
Protected behind some high skills knights, he was watching the scene, watching his men and my friends dying. Because of him. Because of a royal cunning French bastard.
It was time for me to reverse the trend. I was like overwhelmed by a demon. I jumped through the foes, avoiding the spears and swords, pointed at me. My view was blurred, but focused on Michel. I wasn’t able to feel my painful body anymore, I wasn’t able to hear the cries of my friends, the screams of the melee.
I was Philippe, alone against my brother, Michel…
We were two. Two old friends. Two brothers. Two men going to die…
It was not the time of the words. I didn’t have any helmet and Michel could feel the fury in my eyes. At the opposite, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I was sure they were frightened.
I shouted, when rushing against my brother:
- “A mort Michel. Pray the Lord having offered you such a long life…”
Michel protected him behind his shield and avoided my blow. Anyway, I wasn’t afraid of him…
I didn’t know where all the other fighters were, but it wasn’t the point.
Blow after blow, Michel stepped back.
Time after time, Michel collapsed.
Roar after roar, Michel faded.
He was the shadow of himself…
But wasn’t he a shadow from the beginning to the end of his life?
The end was close now… I glanced around me and saw all the men petrified by the scene. Some were still fighting, but the closest were watching with fear and respect the duel.
A little smile appeared at the edge of my mouth.
I striked.
This time, the sword didn’t bounce against the shield.
This time, the sharp iron penetrated the mailed armor.
The sword ripped up the flesh and broke the ribs.
Michel stopped moving.
Like in a dream, where the time stops, my brother didn’t move anymore, apart from turning his head toward me…
The soldiers were crying all around, but I succeeded to hear a little, old and tired voice:
- “Merci…”.
Quoi?
I couldn’t believe my ears, and I didn’t.
I observed how the body of my “dear” brother fell in the grass.
It didn’t please me at all. I saw my death…
In fact, killing my brother killed my youth, and showed me that my time was definitely over.
I hated that feeling…
- “Tuez les tous” I ordered, leaning on Michel.
My men were fewer than Michel’s ones, but they were transcended by my victory, when Michel’s knights began to rout and to flee…
The last butchery of the day happened, celebrated by some lightning coming from some gods…
I had my revenge, but I finally decided not to open Michel helmet. I was disgusted and would have certainly vomited, seeing the dead face of my brother.
I preferred to keep the image of my young friend…kidding with me in the royal court of Paris.
I walked alone in the dark, hearing nobody, unconscious about the danger.
I was a ghost.
My mind was lost, once more…
I woke up in my bed the morning, frozen and still wearing my bloodied armor.
I vomited…
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part I)
Chapter CXXIII : Goodbye my Kingdom
An de Grâce 1229 AC.Brittany.
Countryside.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
When I went out of the tent, I found my troops already preparing for our last move. I tried to gather my memories, and reminded that we were close to the harbor. The reports of my scouts said that there were sufficient boats to embark the troops. The only difficulty was the negotiations with the sailors that would claim for a good amount of money.
Anyway, I was surprised by the excitation and stress I could feel from the soldiers. I soon found my general council, where Hansel, Bertrand and Colin were discussing seriously. They all fell silent when they took sight of me. I asked:
- “What is going on? We should take the time to cure our injured men, and recover from the battle…”
Hansel stood up and announced:
- “Philippe, some of our scouts noticed some troops move in the East and South. Apparently, my father the Kaiser and your son Philip are just around. They are said to join our position today. We have to move, or we are dead…”
I swallowed, and felt my heart beating quickly.
The Kaiser, Philip…
I never thought they were allies. What was really happening ?
- “Why nobody told me that my son had a deal with the Germans?” I succeeded to ask, with a rasping voice.
Colin replied:
- “They are not said to be allied Papa, they are surely going to fight each other if they don’t find us here… It is going to be a bloody day. We had better embark as soon as possible if we don’t want to face the two most powerful armies of the Christendom…”
I went pale. I remember the reports about Philip army, destroying everything in his way, compound of the best Iberian soldiers, with a good mix of South of France knights. Philip was here to find me, to take my crown… He had surely dreamt of killing me since I ordered him to execute his mother…
In the other hand, the huge German army was there to wash the Kaiser honor, spoilt after the defection of his son Hansel.
Yes, definitely, we had better to flee.
- “To the coast mes amis, to the harbor where the boats are waiting for us…”
Within an hour, we were walking through the last fields before to reach the Ocean. We had half a day of walk. It was an eternity. Bertrand was tasked to lead the rearguard, and prevent any skirmish against the bulk of my army.
In my head, I was struggling with a lot of questions:
How to convince the sailors to offer their boats? Should we use the power of the weapons or would I succeed to convince them?
Would we finish the boarding before the Germans and the Iberians clash?
Was my son secretly allied with the Germans, despite what Colin assured me?
We suddenly arrived in the top of a little hill and discovered the Ocean. It was calm, and beautiful. I stopped watching the coast, and took sight of the harbor at the distance. There were a lot of fishing boats, but also some cogs, that would be crucial for us. The harbor was called Vannes and was an important city for the Bretons.
The soldiers shouted for joy seeing the harbor, and the motivation was doubled. We quickly reached Vannes. I joined the vanguard, in order to speak with the sailors. I had hardly entered the city when a knight wearing some royal armor and banners came to meet me. I didn’t have the time to think about anything. He already knew who I was, when he announced:
- “Philippe, I’m Raymond de Chantilly, knight banneret for Raoul. You sent him a letter about your departure from the Kingdom. He approved it and wrote that message.”
I frowned. Was my son allowed to assess if I had the right or not to leave the Kingdom? We made a deal, but I didn’t like that way to be treated, like an old senile man. I roughly took the message and opened it.
- “Papa,
I received your letter about your leaving from France. As a wise man, you are surely going to find a nice place to go and live. I respect your courageous decision.
I often think about you and how you led the Kingdom for 20 years. It is a shame that the bastard Pope called the Crusade against Paris, because you were building one of the most powerful Empire amongst the Christendom.
I thought you would probably need some help and it is why I send you a “little gift”.
Now, the dark times are coming and I will have to face both Philip and the Crusader armies, but we are ready and the men will fight till the end to protect Paris, the Kingdom and their families. Thousands of men will fell, and maybe more… But it doesn’t matter if the men die, if I fell or if our good fields burn, the point is to keep the faith in our Kingdom, and to stay free Frenchmen.
Till my last drop of blood, I’m going to sacrifice all my strength and the one of my men to preserve the essential.
Thank you Papa, let’s hope that Philip is finally going to fight at my side, and then re-build our wounded France.
I made the promise to come and find you when all those times of turmoil will be over. You deserve to come back and rest in peace in the Kingdom you grew up. You deserve it a thousand times…
Au revoir Papa.
“
I sighed and said slowly:
- “Bonne chance mon petit. May the wind, the storms and the Sun come to your help to fight and destroy all those vultures. I promise to help you if I can.
I promise…
“
Good little Raoul. I felt guilty to let him in the middle of the fight, but it was my fate. I was determined to help him, cutting the back of some bastards… I already had some ideas about it.
Raymond de Chantilly offered me another letter, and stopped my thoughts about my brave son. It was a thin paper, signed with the royal seal.
I opened it and smiled. It was unexpected. It was like a gift from the heavens. I needed it.
It was 10000 florins.
Raoul had made an agreement with some moneylenders to have a loan. I knew how difficult it would be for my son to send back the money. I couldn’t refuse such a help. My son was definitely clever and helpful.
I prayed the sky to help and protect him… I couldn’t do more, unfortunately.
Obviously, it wasn’t difficult to convince the sailors, to buy some of their boats with such a treasure. I quickly organize the boarding of my troops.
I took opportunity to talk with Raymond about the last news from the Kingdom. Nothing really important happened, apart from the three giant armies hunting me through Western France. The pressure had decreased around Paris but there were still some important German forces surrounding the Capital and cutting the supplies.
However, the religion war was clearly turning against France, knowing that there were no less than 7 German Cardinals amongst the 12 ones constituting the Cardinal College. We couldn’t expect the Pope to stop any German attack, or atrocities. The future was not bright.
About the diplomacy, it was maybe worst. Apart the useless allies of Novgorod and the Teutonics, there were 17 kingdoms in war with France. The English, Germans and Spanish of course, but also the Italians and the Eastern Kingdoms. The less expected was the Kingdom of Jerusalem, that declared war few months before. It was like the child of France had decided to strike in the back of his father. I remembered Olivier, my good old friend, from whom I never had news, since his severe wound. I wondered if he was still alive, and guessed that he would have done anything to help the Kingdom of France there.
Objectively, we were dead. There was no more future for Frenchmen.
I thanked Raymond for those bad news, and walked to the boats, with a sad mood, feeling guilty and responsible for all the pain France was going to suffer.
I met for the last time Bertrand, who was waiting for me with the “Company of the braves”. The soldiers that decided to stay in France and protect it from the bastards. For a long time, we hugged together, voiceless, aware about the heavy weight of our friendship. He was my last good friend, and we shared so much, from the battles to the politics.
I understood his choice. I would have probably done the same, if I wasn’t the exiled King I was forced to be. Too many people were waiting for my death, and I wouldn’t like France to suffer any more for that.
I don’t remember the words we used to say our last “Au revoir”, but we felt that it was more an “Adieu”.
Adieu mon cher Bertrand…
We didn’t have the time to finish, as some messengers rushed, warning about the vanguard of the Germans, coming straight to Vannes.
Bertrand watched me with tough and brave eyes, and announced the last words I remember from him.
- “It is time for me to save my land and people. If God helps, we are going to wash those demons from the Kingdom. Au revoir mon cher ami.”
He disappeared at the head of his men. His goal was to go North, in order to avoid the foes, and then to join Paris, where he could help with the defense.
I went in the admiral cog, and ordered to sail to the South.
We followed the coast for one mile, when we clearly took sight of an army in the fields. The German vanguard was already there. We were pleased to joke at those bastards, powerless. We insulted them, trying to catch their attention.
I don’t know if they heard us but at this exact time, a French horn rang out at the distance. I had no doubt. Philip’s army.
I trembled. Despite all the mistakes he did, Philip was my son and I had a paternal feeling, thinking about him fighting the German Kaiser.
I waited with uneasyness to see if the battle was going to happen. I ordered to stop the boats. We could discern the troops movements, but apparently, only the vanguards were maneuvering.
Suddenly, a French cavalry force arrived in front of the first German unit. There were a lot of standards and royal flags amongst the French. It couldn’t be anybody else than my son there. A beautiful and deadly scene. I was fascinated to be a powerless spectator of a battle, and my heart beat strongly, knowing that my son was going to open the fight.
The Germans were on foot, but outnumbered the French and were heavily armored.
They didn’t have the time to adopt a defensive formation, waiting for the bulk of the Imperial army, when the French sounded the charge. We could discern everything, as the fight took place in a field next to the coast.
I winced watching the French crushing those bastard Germans. For the first time, I had the opportunity to see and analyze the power of a cavalry charge against foot soldiers. It was definitely impressive.
Few seconds later, there were no more people crying or screaming. The Germans were all dead.
I was proud of my son, despite my anger against him.
Soon, the French left the field and entered the woods, were the most important troops movement surely happened.
The darkness of the night wrapped us, still perplexed about the little fight we attended and about the peril we escaped.
I prayed the sky to protect my first son, and bring him and Raoul together.
Goodbye my Kingdom…
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; February 21, 2012 at 01:22 PM.
Civis
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
And so the King takes his leave of the kingdom.
As wonderful as always, le coup. Well done.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Thank you my good friend.
The king indeed left his Kingdom, but is it really the end?
Philippe can't be fooled as easily, can he?
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part I)
Chapter CXXIV : An old story
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Brittany.
Countryside.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
It was my third sailing trip, after the ones I did through the Mediterranean Sea during my youth, to kill Alexander. I knew how to manage the soul of my men, and those skills helped a lot, because rebellion is never far away in a boat.
I spent long times talking with Colin, Sybille and Hensel. We were like a family, eating together, sharing dreams of a quiet exile far in the South…
However, I was the old guy.
Sybille and Hensel remembered me and Margit, when Colin was training daily with some other young soldiers.
All of them had their life to live and a future full of choices. I was the opposite. An old man, without any more friends, with no future. I have to admit that I suffered heavily those conditions. I had no goal to keep my mind busy.
I often strayed amongst my men talking with them. We had some prisoners from Michel’s army. 4 knights exactly. Those men betrayed my orders and sailed with Michel to the West, instead of sending him into the Galway Fortress.
Of course, they claimed that they had no choice but I couldn’t believe them, because they fought us in Brittany, few days before. I offered them to explain me everything about the trip, in exchange of reconciliation. They told me the story.
It was 15 years ago.
They had spent more than 2 months in the Ocean, trying to go to the West. It was their only chance to escape from the fleet. Michel offered them a free life if they could find a home.
And it happened. They found a coast, one morning, when they had lost any hope, when lots of men had already died.
They quickly landed and searched for supplies. They were no more than 200 men. It was winter and the lands seemed desert. After few days staying along the coast, they found a little fishing village. Michel succeeded to capture some of the men. They were barbarians, speaking an unknown language, and from another civilization. Michel asked them if there were some city, or other men to speak with. They showed him a direction, in the West.
After gathering the supplies, Michel ordered to follow the guideline. His objective was to find the rulers of this land, and maybe take some treasures. The men were afraid about this unknown and desert land, but soon understood that they could find some redemption there.
It proved to be true. After some wandering, they found some roads and followed them.
A little city was there, and seemed wealthy and welcoming, with huge strange buildings inside. It was definitely an unknown and surprising Kingdom.
When they arrived to the gate, they were welcomed by some friendly arrows. The first sign of war.
Michel, furious, ordered to attack the city. It was very easy, as the barbarians were only shooting at the men, protected by heavy armors. At the end of the day, they had succeeded to break the main wood door.
Before the night, Michel and his knights attacked, on their steeds. Michel was a clever guy and understood that he could fully use the surprise effect to destroy the foes morale.
The manipulation worked well and the defenders fled as soon as Michel entered. He was wearing an impressive armor, and was probably seen like a demon, compared to the absence of protection of the barbarians.
The knights rode inside the city. The streets were empty. People were hidden in their wooden strange houses.
The bravest barbarians finally gathered in the center of the city, and tried to defend their home against Michel, but they were clearly terrorized. They were shaking, and didn’t succeed to attack first.
It was an easy fight. The war steeds trampled the poor defenders. They only had some little axes to fight. It was no challenge for the French.
After a short fight, the French standard was the only one to stand proud in the city center.
The French suffered only two casualties.
Michel had won his first battle and ordered to kill the rest of the barbarians. They learned some time after that the city was called Keskapekiaq.
Keskapekiaq was French, and was the first stone of Michel plans to build an Empire.
They spent more than five years in Keskapekiaq. Michel sent some scouts all around in order to find some more tribes, some more cities, and learn about that new undiscovered land. Some never came back, and those who succeeded to find their way back didn’t find anything. There were remote and desert lands. No cities, no roads, no kingdoms…
Michel didn’t know how to behave. The natives shared rumors of some civilization in the South but Michel feared that it could be a trap, or at least a way to make him and the French leave Keskapekiaq.
At the end, the only future was to come back.
And here started Michel’s masterplan. He would raise an army, with the natives, and flood over France. He was convinced the people of France would fear those strange men, and that he could probably achieve good negotiation with me to stay free, or maybe become the new King of France.
For years, he trained the natives to fight as a proper French soldier, keeping their traditions and animal clothes that were part of his plan. He would like to make them demons. The natives, seeing Michel as a sort of God, agreed to fight with him. They thought he would lead them to their paradise, in the land of their Gods…
Finally, when everybody was ready, trained and motivated, they all left Keskapekiaq, and sailed to the East. They were thousands of “demons” following Michel.
After one month sailing, the fleet stopped in Island. There was a Viking city. Michel attacked, in order to assess the strength of his troops. It was a glorious victory. The Viking were terrorized by the “demons” and either fled or died, flooded by the hordes.
After that victory, Michel stole some supplies and headed to the South. He landed in Britanny, and learned what happened during his absence. The Brittany people fled. His plan was to assault Rennes first, but he never had the time.
He had the bad luck to cross my road.
My brother was no more than a dead body, lost in a Brittany wood…
That story impressed me a lot.
So there was an undiscovered land over the Ocean. Maybe a welcome country to rest in peace…
Far from all the troubles…
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; February 27, 2012 at 04:42 PM.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part I)
Chapter CXXV : Diversion
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Brittany.
Countryside.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
After the first talks with Sybille, Colin and Hensel, I understood that I wouldn’t be able to cross the Ocean. They all refused. They had their life to live, and maybe they feared that unknown land. They preferred to go South, and find a new home in the Mediterranean Sea, maybe with the Byzantines.
I had to agree, and prayed the sky to help us during that long trip.
Unfortunately, the sky didn’t help. Few days later, following the Aquitaine’s coast, we noticed that we were followed. An English war fleet was hunting us.
After some talks with the admiral and my officers, we decided to flee. We were not prepared nor armed to fight against a proper war fleet. For two days, we succeeded to escape. However, the English boats were surely lighter because the morning of the third day, when the wind decreased, we knew that they were going to catch us. We took the difficult decision to let two of our cogs make diversion and attack the English. The plan for the courageous men who agreed to be part of the diversion was to go straight into the English fleet, to cross it and then try to flee.
It was nearly impossible for them to flee safely but we didn’t find a better option. All the army saluted the brave two cogs that sacrificed themselves. We saw them crushing the surprised English. The storm began between the boats, and the French disappeared in the middle of the English boats.
We were all sad for our friends and felt they didn’t succeed to flee safely. Nevertheless, the strategy worked well because that unexpected move broke the English hunt. They were completely disorganized and couldn’t continue at the same speed. We didn’t see them anymore.
We were following the Spanish coasts from then on.
And here came an idea…
Clara !
Definitely, there was a good thing I had to achieve.
I had heard from some reports that Clara had moved to Leon, the capital of the Spanish Kingdom. She couldn’t know that I was sailing not far from her. The Spanish were said to be fighting against the Moors, and in France for the Crusade.
Leon would be surely light-garrisoned. In addition, I could motivate the soldiers to participate at this expedition because of all the treasures we could take there.
It took me some days to convince my friends and officers, but I finally succeeded. Colin and Sybille were ready for revenge. My soldiers were ready to take some easy money.
I was ready for both.
We sailed for a few days before to see the harbor of Gijon, which was the harbor used by the capital Leon. We had to be quick, like a lightning in a dark sky, in order to surprise the Spanish and be sure they wouldn’t have the time to call for reinforcements.
When I landed in Spain, a feeling of revenge, mixed with hate, was burning in my heart.
Be ready Clara.
I have a last honor for you…
Civis
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Bold moves. I like it.
Protector Domesticus
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Yes, now you will have your revenge!
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Hidden sage
Thanks, and also for the nice support.Bold moves. I like it.
skynet464
A very very deserved revenge...Yes, now you will have your revenge!
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part II)
Chapter CXXVI : The night ambush
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
I was 50 years old. Life had gone so quick.
I always thought I was a young man, trying to achieve great things. That feeling of absolute nothing filled deeply my mind those days.
I had difficulty to accept that old age.
However, I travelled in France, Spain, Italy and Flanders. I achieved great battles, and succeeded to create a family. I did so much and so little…
I needed some pride.
Like a builder, I would have loved to see the product of my life.
I had no product…
The Kingdom I took and made powerful was dying.
My people were burning under the flames of heretic hordes.
My family was torn apart from then on…
I thought about my childhood in Acres. About my mother I never succeeded to find and meet. Ah, I missed my mother.
Maybe I had better stay in the Holy land following the Crusader laws. I would have surely been a merchant and lived a quiet life.
All would have been so simple. No people to take care about. No lands to defend. No power to increase.
I was the victim of my fate. I was King and would have offered my treasure to become a peasant that day.
An only feeling was making me ready and motivated: Revenge.
Clara, Norbert, the bastard Pope Bonifacius, the Crusaders that killed my father…
All those names rang in my mind like knife blows…
Since the barbarians battle in Brittany, my men called me Philippe the Mauler, and I think it was well deserved.
No one was able to stand against me and kill my friends with complete impunity.
We took nearly a week to cross the Mountains of the North Iberian Peninsula. Most of my soldiers were happy not being anymore in the boats, given the common fears of the Ocean. They believed in monsters, in the end of the world, when I dreamed about a new land.
I didn’t know well the area but the Iberians peasants we took prisoners claimed that Leon was no more than a week walking East. We didn’t meet any Iberian forces to fight against since the coast. It was like a very easy campaign.
The first snowflakes soon covered the mountains all around. We had a last pass to cross before to descend in the valley.
We were camping, when one day, the night watchmen noticed some lights moving at the distance. They warned me and I decided to go with my knights for a night trip.
Who were those guys? At first, I thought they were peasants, and that it would be a nice benefit to capture some of them, in order to find the better way to join Leon. However, I soon understood they were not.
They were Spanish.
They were blind.
They were throwing themselves into the lion’s mouth…
I smiled.
Apparently, they were no more than 40 Spanish knights, riding stupidly without any protection. With my friends, we rode without a sound toward them.
Our lights were off, but our eyes accurate…
And suddenly, we charged their back. They were totally surprised and couldn’t offer any reply. Apart from one knight, that fought like a wolf.
Glancing at him, I asked my men for his capture. Unfortunately, the last Spanish Knights succeeded to protect the guy and sacrificed themselves to let him escape. I understood later that he was a Royal Prince, grandson of the bastard king Vermundo. He was only 16 years old. I was impressed by such courage.
The victory was in my pocket, but it wasn’t the essential.
The essential was that the Spanish didn’t know that I was so close and were totally surprised. I was able to catch Leon off guards.
Nevertheless, given that Felipe succeeded to flee, he would surely warn the city and call for reinforcements. I couldn’t wait.
I ordered my men to begin the forced march to Leon. The time was against us…
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; March 18, 2012 at 10:40 AM.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part III)
Chapter CXXVII : Waiting for a miracle
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
I was observing silently the high walls of Leon. We had spent 6 days to come there after the skirmish with the Prince Felipe. It was long, too long.
I could see from the hill that there was a huge garrison inside the city. Thousands of men were walking on the battlements, and the Spanish standards were fluttering proudly in the wind.
I remembered the siege of Paris. It was a bloody siege, and it seemed history was repeating…
Clara was meant to be inside. I could almost feel that witch pestilential smell. My fist was old, but young enough to make her silent. I couldn’t suffer anymore her presence, the presence of an assassin, of the one that stole my favorite jewel: Margit.
We didn’t wait long. The worst happened.
Felipe came with reinforcements from the South, from Toledo.
There were not just a troop of nobles and common soldiers with him.
The King himself: Vermundo, was leading the Spanish Royal army with the best Spanish warriors and cut any hope of retreat. We had to fight. No choice.
When I learnt that terrible new, I ordered to leave the siege and take some defensive positions few miles from Leon. I was depressed to lose my chance to trap Clara. Moreover, if the Spanish succeeded to synchronize their attack, between the Spanish Royal army and the heavy Leon garrison, we were dead men.
I needed more than bravery and courage; I needed some help from the sky that day.
My army was experienced and tough. Some well-trained spearmen were the bulk of my troops, and the most important were the elite axemen and swordsmen. I could run through any army with them, but it wasn’t enough to fight two giant armies, most particularly armies full of skirmishers. I knew too well those bastards Jinetes and Almughavars.
The King Vermundo was coming with the entire Spanish cavalry, and some heavy foot soldiers.
Some famous nobles were supporting the King, like Nicolas Bermundez - brother of Felipe - , Juan Ortega – an Extremadura famous adventurer - , and most particularly Thomas of Kingbridge.
Thomas was maybe the best tactician known in the Christendom. He was an English mercenary, fighting for the Spanish, after being for a long time Count of Aquitaine. He was famous for the Portugal invasion, for the successful conquest of Baleares, and some Andalusia citadels. He was said never having lost a single battle.
I ordered not to warn the troops about that man. I didn’t want my soldiers to lose the psychological battle.
We were going to face clever generals. I was not used with that point.
And as if it was not enough, we had to take into account the Leon heavy garrison. More Jinetes, more Almughavars, more spearmen and cavalry against us. I couldn’t do anything to prevent them to rally the Spanish Royal Army. I was only able to take a defensive position and wait for them.
That night, I called for Hensel, Colin and my generals. I asked for a plan. Nobody had anything better that keeping a defensive position and pray for the Lord. I was upset against myself. Being trapped was reserved for young people, not me. I felt like I never learned since my youth.
I spent an extremely nasty night. Too many ghosts were hunting me.
Knowing that Clara and Vermundo, two of my worst enemies, were just around, surely joking about me, made me upset. I decided to go for a walk around the camp.
The soldiers seemed anxious, and few of them succeeded to sleep. I talked with some to gauge their morals. It was low, but they had no other solution than to fight. They were dead if they tried to desert. The local people were not really friendly, after the pillages we did to come to Leon.
I wandered for few hours in the camp, speaking about the soldiers’ lives, about the village they grew in. I was as lost as them. It was like I already accepted my defeat and probable death.
Asking a soldier what was the most important for him, the man replied that he would fight to the death to protect the little money he have, and some other stuff he looted in Spain.
It was like a lightning in my brain. I had the solution, or at least a part of it. The man answer was stupid and narrow minded, but it brought me the solution…
With a little help from the sky, I could win the day after.
With a smile, I came back to my tent, and tried to sleep till dawn.
Tomorrow was expected to be a bloody hot day.
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; March 26, 2012 at 04:57 PM.
Primicerius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
@la coupe est pleine
nice pics and an impressive saga
thanks for your loooong effort
repman
BareBonesWars 8.1 for RTW 1.5
Integration Mod which combines unique strategic challenges due to a 4 Season scripted campaign from 280 BC - 180 AD on several big/small maps and with an ruthless AI on the battlefield.
Deus lo Vult DLV 6.2 for MTW II Kingdoms
Norway+Ireland+Flanders+Kiev+Lithuania+Teutonic_Order+Armenia+Crusader+Georgia,1y2t script, army field costs, Ultimate AI 1.6, big map, military career, economic system, age simulation, heraldic system, new factions, garrison script, Crowns + Swords, Trait bugfixer, religion dependent recruiting, ancillary enhancements, darth battle mechanics
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Really Repman, it is more than a honor to have you here.
My effort is looooong indead (2 years actually), but it is nothing compared to the efforts deployed by you and the other modders to create such a wonderful and prolific MOD.
Thanks you and all the others a thousand time to provide me a game that I never succeeded to give up, even after 3 years.
I never would have thought I could be addicted.
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part III)
Chapter CXXVIII : Hold the line
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
The Sun was high in the blue sky.
Midday. I would have never thought we would still be waiting…
I was riding with my son Colin along the first line of my army, motionless. Most of my soldiers were silent, focused on the horizon. The rare others were saluting me with firm voice.
They were ready. I could feel the power of their will.
Like a snake, my army was winding along the hill. A thin line of experienced spearmen.
Despite my experience, I felt a bit anxious. It was not a usual battle. It was one of the fights some soldiers were waiting for all their life.
The perfect opportunity to become a living legend.
I, Philippe the Mauler, didn’t need to be a legend. I was already a legendary heretic, and no-one in the Christendom was unaware of my fate. By consequence, there were hordes of generals willing to take my skin.
I was the target. I should not fail, I should not hesitate.
I couldn’t make a single mistake…
But this day, it was harder. I should literally create a miracle to save us.
I felt anxious, feeling my heart inside my hands, inside my feet, bursting everywhere in my body…
Suddenly, a shout came from the first line. A Templar was pointing at the distance.
- « Les espagnols, les espagnols… »
The bastard castellans finally decided to come and engage the fight. They had spent the morning making the so feared junction between the troops of the Rey Vermundo and the Leon garrison. They were outnumbering us by two, and even three, because of some peasants, pleased to take part of the slaughter.
And they were there. In front of us, deploying their wings to outflank us.
I heard their war shout.
I was used with Castellan, and felt the pride in the voice. They were confident.
I rushed behind my troops to take position, sending some orders to the commanders of the units. The tension increased amongst the army.
We watched the Spanish troops tearing down the Hill, running toward us.
I cursed. It was a shame not having bowmen or crossbowmen. The foes were a perfect target that moment.
The dry hill was covered with yellow and red, colors of those bastards. There were too many knights that I couldn’t discern where the King was.
My soldiers were still silent.
Still ready.
The Spanish were surely expecting a quick and easy battle, watching at our depleted troops.
I hoped so.
The first lines of foot soldiers climbed the hill, and stopped.
As expected, we observed the crossbowmen crossing the lines and preparing for the shooting.
We couldn’t reply.
And all of a sudden, the first volley reached us. Behind the Templars, I watched powerless my men avoiding the lethal arrows.
Some cries, some blood, some men falling. But not many.
We had the upper position and it was hard for the crossbowmen to be dangerous. The feudal shields were a sufficient protection.
For a while, we waited with patience. No one moved, apart from some wounded, trying to protect themselves behind their friends.
I motivated my men to be ready. Glancing at the Castellans, I knew that they would try to take opportunity of their cavalry. They couldn’t easily outflank us, because of the rocky landscape. Moreover, Colin and Hensel were leading small but experienced cavalry troops to forbid any try from the Spanish.
They prepared a frontal charge.
I bet that the upper position would help not to be crushed under the heavy steeds. If not, we would be dead.
My heart bursting, I watched them organizing the charge, then rushing against us, trying to keep their speed despite the hill they had to climb.
It was beautiful.
My soldiers drove their shields in the ground, and prepared their sharp spears. The muscles were stretched…
Just before the impact, the Spanish speed was not that high, and most of the horses reared at my first line. Some of my men were trampled, disappearing under the heavy steeds and their hooves, but most of them stand on their feet.
The fight had begun. Screams...
The French losses were not too high, and we succeeded to hold the line. However, a sea of men was running toward us, following their cavalry.
I kept behind my men, motivating them as hard as I could. It wasn’t sufficient. We were stepping back, irreparably.
The line was thiner and thiner.
I observed my men. They were professional and were efficient. More than 3 Spanish fell before any of my men. However, we were submerged.
We couldn’t resist.
It was the time.
I rang the retreat.
I charged at the foes. Looking at my right and left, I saw that Hensel and Colin were doing the same.
My men were rushing back, fleeing.
The foes, surprised by the simultaneous retreat of the spearmen and the charge of my knights, stopped fighting and didn’t advance.
We crossed my retreating men, and charged at the full gallop. Thanks to the hill, the speed was at his height and we crushed the defenseless Spanish. It was a slaughter.
Glancing around, I saw my last men fleeing from the first line.
I rang for the second time the retreat, and my cavalry rushed back, avoiding suffering too many losses. It was the only solution I found to protect the retreat of my infantry.
I turned back and saw the Spanish, puzzled by that unexpected move, and still not convinced about their victory.
Some of their lords shouted war cries and they all began to follow us. The hunt had started.
My men ran toward the camp, in order to avoid the deadly Spanish cavalry. Thanks to my counter attack, most of them succeeded to join the camp without casualties.
The last of them closely followed, but suffered some losses. It was a run for life.
I rode at full gallop, overtaking my men, to the North. Colin and Hensel cavalry did the same and joined us.
We heard behind a giant clamor.
The foes had reached the camp.
The pillage had begun.
I couldn’t hide a smile. Neither Colin nor Hensel.
The plan was going well. Very well…
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; April 04, 2012 at 04:41 PM.
Civis
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
You have left me intrigued; more than normally to be sure. As always, I applaud your writing, and wish Roi Phillippe the best of fortunes in his fight.
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
I just finished what you wrote so far. It's amazing, thank you for sharing.
Et règles-lui son compte à cette geuse d'espingouine !
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Hidden Sage
Thanks my friend.You have left me intrigued; more than normally to be sure. As always, I applaud your writing, and wish Roi Phillippe the best of fortunes in his fight.
Hoping that the plan will sound more understandable now.
Bonhomme
Eh eh, bienvenue dans ce lieu perdu et reculé...I just finished what you wrote so far. It's amazing, thank you for sharing.
Et règles-lui son compte à cette geuse d'espingouine !
I'm pleased that you enjoyed the story.
Don't worry about the "gueuse", her fate is linked with the one of Philippe...
Ordinarius
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
Exile (Part III)
Chapter CXXIX : Heroes
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
After a little time riding along the hill, we entered a slope, between two arid woods.
I hardly had the time to turn my head that a little army appeared suddenly behind the cover of some rocky ditches.
Perfect.
My elite troops…
I joined the head of my soldiers, and, in a hurry, I shouted:
- “Mes amis,
Let’s rush and help our friends that are surely fighting hard to save their lives.
It is the perfect time.”
Like a single man, we left the place.
We couldn’t lose time, if we wanted my plan to work efficiently.
The goal was to take opportunity of the disorganization caused by the camp pillage, and surprise the bastard Spanish in a simultaneous and coordinated attack. We shouldn’t let them prepare a counter attack.
Seeing the eagerness of my swordsmen, I felt that I had my chance to win this impossible battle.
We run for a while, in order to round secretly the Spanish army, and attack their back. It was the best to surprise them.
It was an elementary war lesson.
I couldn’t express the pleasure I had when I saw the Spanish rear guard, disorganized, looting the camp, unarmed and defenseless.
I was a demon.
I was the Heretic Devil…
We trampled hundreds with a single charge.
The Castellans didn’t succeed to regroup. We were already striking them, from everywhere.
We kept organized, when they were without orders, having lost their generals in the pillage.
It was a child game to fight those looters.
The best was that because of the pillage noise, most of the foes didn’t offer attention to their back, and we were surprising them, again and again. I can’t remember how many heads I cut, how many bodies I pierced, how much blood I spilled in the dust.
Sometimes, the Spanish succeeded to make a semblance of cohesion, but they were no match for the heavy charges we offered them.
The giant slaughter…
Slowly, the Castellans finally began to organize a defense and I could see the knights surrounding their generals, raising their standard to regroup. I feared it would work. We were still largely outnumbered, despite our cohesion.
However, and unfortunately for them, the High Mercenary Commander Thomas of Kingsbridge fell in a trap with his bodyguards, trying to make some of his men back in the battle.
A unit of experienced French axemen fell on him.
Thomas was soon isolated in a sea of axes, and his men didn’t succeed to join him. They had no speed and couldn’t escape. I knew that eventually the bastard English would pay the price of his disloyalty.
I saw the blood covering his armor, just before his death, and I smiled. I smiled thinking of all the fools thinking I would fell against that famous general.
Like the others, he fell in my trap.
I was exulting.
Thomas pointed a last time his sword to the sky, like a praying monk, searching for pardon.
He died, an axe cutting his back.
I didn’t focus anymore on him. I had a battle to win and the job was far from being finished.
With my men, we cleared the camp from the last Spanish looters. We had lost some men but it was nothing compared to the Spanish army. Most particularly, one of their most famous general, Thomas, had already been slain.
I urged my men to continue forward to fight the first part of the Spanish army that didn’t stop in the camp.
After a little time, we stopped. They were in front of us, fighting.
We could clearly see some blue islands lost in a red and yellow sea. They were our spearmen, trying to stand against the waves of Spanish, waiting for our support.
They clearly lost lots of men. But they succeeded to keep fighting till my arrival, thanks to the schiltron defensive formation.
It was enough. I could attack the back of the Spanish.
That time, I knew they couldn’t win.
I sounded the charge and all my men rushed into the multiple melees.
The carnage had begun.
Some of my axemen succeeded again to trap some Spanish cavalry, killing dozens of nobles. My men were demons, feeling that the battle was already an outstanding victory.
I took sight of some Spanish cavalry and ordered to charge them. I would like to take care of them in priority, as they would be the first ready to organize and make a tough defense.
They were surprised and defeated quickly. We were heroes.
Still fighting, I heard some resounding war horns at my left. It was Colin and his knights charging at some defenseless but deadly Italian crossbowmen.
Those mercenary were fool. They didn’t side the good Kingdom that day.
They disappeared, flooded by a blue and bloody wave.
I smiled, relieved about my son abilities, and pushed through. I felt invincible and made my way through the Spanish to reach the Nobles. My men followed me and we knocked about their center.
That moment I remember hearing clearly the Spanish, shouting stupidly:
- “El Rey, el Rey…”
Indeed, the King Vermundo was there, in front of me, covered with blood.
He had been surprised by our attack and tried to escape with his bodyguards.
I roared, pointing at him, and all my men saw him.
A clamor spread all around. Vermondo was about to leave the melee and flee, when I was still trying to find my way out.
For a second, I feared I would miss him, like his Grandson Felipe. Fortunately, a good German was waiting for him.
Hensel was there, with a free unit of knights, and he trapped the Bastard King.
Vermundo was over, and he never had the opportunity to say a single word. Quickly surrounded, he was prisoned and brought to a safe area. My heart was beating strongly with happiness. It was more than I would have ever dreamt.
I glanced at the battle around me. I could discern the French troops, fighting with courage and ardor, and the Spanish troops, lying in the floor, destroyed by the Furia Francesa.
I had won.
As a symbol, a Spanish flag bearer fell at the same time.
Not far from me, Nicolas Bermundez was fighting till the death against some of my swordsmen.
He died, refusing to surrender. He was a brave noble.
At the opposite, the coward Felipe succeeded a second time to escape. We didn’t succeed to catch that coward.
The last of the Spanish were quickly slain. We had no choice. No mercy.
I was eager to celebrate that amazing victory.
Amazing was the appropriated word.
Nobody would have bet we could win. Surely not the dead. The thousand dead corpses, lying under the heavy sun.
The valley was a graveyard…
My men were as surprised as me, contemplating the dead.
They couldn’t believe their luck…
They were still alive.
The King of Spain was their prisoner.
They had defeated one of the most powerful western army.
They were already heroes. They knew it.
Last edited by la coupe est pleine; April 20, 2012 at 04:23 PM.
Domesticus
Re: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.
great aar, please keep it up, DLV is awesome
"It's not always possible to do what we want to do, but it's important to believe in something before you actually do it"
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