Britain has had rulers, it has had watchers. Kings are annointed, not in the name of God, but because they surpass others in cruelty. This thicket of tyrants has grown hence and now bursts forth like an immense forest. Our island retains its Roman name but not the morals and law; nay rather, it now elects a High-King adorned with an emperor's insignia. But he has never worthily bore this nor legitimately but only in the manner of a tyrant amid a turbulent soldiery.
Perhaps, that is, until now.
Since freed from Roman rule, Britain has fragmented. Long deprived of her best men, of her military supplies and completely ignorant in the practice of war, she is trampled upon by foreign tribes of extreme cruelty. Like rapacious wolves, fierce with excessive hunger, the terrible hordes of Scots and Picts jump with greedy maw into the fold, because there is no shepherd in sight. They rush across the boundaries, carried over by wings of oars, by arms of rowers, and by sails with fair wind. They slay everything, and whatever they meet.
Owing to the dreadful destruction desperate messengers were sent to the Romans with rent clothes and heads covered with dust. Yet the Romans, engaged with their own dilemmas, declared that they would not be troubled by such arduous expeditions and urged us to accustom ourselves to arms, and fight bravely, so as to save our land, property, wives, children, and, what is greater than these; our liberty and lives.
Upon learning of the Romans refusal to return our enemies became more audacious than ever and seized the whole of the northern part of our land as far as the wall for their own.
Fear does curious things in the minds of men. Somewhere in the utter depths of darkness hopeless and cruel, our Council together with that proud tyrant Vitalis - the Vortigern - invited, as it were, for our own protection, the very men whom when absent we feared more than death itself!
Like wolves led into the sheep-fold, the wild Jutes, accursed and hated by God and men, came hither so as to serve us by repelling the northern nations. Thus the barbarians, now admitted into the island, succeeded in having provisions supplied them, as if they were soldiers and about to encounter, as they deceitfully claimed, great hardships for their kind entertainers. They complained, again and again, that their monthly supplies were not sufficient and declared that, if larger munificence were not piled upon them, they would break the treaty and lay waste the whole of the island.
They made no delay to follow up their threats with deeds.
For the fire of their righteous vengeance, caused by the Roman’s former crimes, blazed from sea to sea, heaped up by roaming bands of Angles, Saxons and other impious men. To oppose their attacks, there was stationed on the height of the strongholds a British army too slow to fight, unwieldy for flight and incompetent by reason of its cowardice of heart. In the meantime the barbed weapons of the enemies were not idle: by them the wretched citizens were dragged from the walls and dashed to the ground.
Why should I tell more? My countrymen have abandoned their cities and the lofty wall. There ensues a repetition of flight on the part of the citizens, pursued again by the enemy. And again still more cruel massacres. As lambs by butchers, so the unhappy citizens are torn to pieces by the enemy. Calamities from without are aggravated by tumults from within; because the whole country is pillaged, stripped of every kind of food supply except the relief that comes from a skill in hunting. Some of the wretched remnant have been captured in the mountains and killed in heaps. Others, overcome by hunger, have yielded themselves to the enemies, to be their slaves forever, if they are not instantly slain, which would be a service. Some have fled to Llydaw beyond the sea with strong lamentation.
Others were never so compelled: rather issuing from the very mountains, from caves and defiles and from dense thickets, they carried on the war unceasingly, remaining in their native land and looking for leadership.
The troops now turn to you, Catigern, Vortimer among the Britons. Can you unite the realm and lead our warriors to victory? | 
IB II Britanniae Preview
[/QUOTE]
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Mr Kriegtooth
