Blood Red Eagle - The Sons of Lodbrok Invasion of Northumbrialand (Mini AAR)

[Zeion]

Chapter 2: Of Gods and War

Coming soon...



Music by LucyTotalWar.

[Alwyn]

Impressive video with great music!

[theSilentKiller]

I really love your AAR. The combination of CK2 (total fan of it xP) and Attila is really awesome! And that trailer...I love and hate it xD It's really good but now I can't wait to know how it will continue

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Nice video. Cool music.

Next update?

(Yeah, I know, I'm just saying what everyone else said, but still, I'm looking forward to the next chapter. )

[Zeion]

Blood Red Eagle - The Sons of Lodbrok Invasion of Northumbrialand



Chapter 2: Of Gods and War

"These christians, creeping before their nailed god." Gudrid spat into the soil of the earth. Several days we had been on the march, through the fog and rain of Englaland. Fueled by our early victory at Newcastle, and driven by our thirst for conquest and revenge, we arrived in the lands of Derby, eager to meet the Saxon foe on the field of battle. But that night, there was no Saxon by our fire, no christian bootlicker spoiled our mead.
"Sigfrid," I asked my lord's son. "What do you know about their god? What do the Æsir think of him?" Because Sigfrid knew about the ways of the Old Gods that we called Æsir. Gudrid, my lord's second oldest son, who was sitting with us, started to laugh. "Yes brother, what does Odin say about their weak god?" Then he laughed again and drank his mead. Gudrid had little respect for the suffering god, the one who could not protect himself.

About life with the old gods and amongst the christians

But not so Sigfrid. He smiled at his brother's mockery, and then slowly said.
"It might be a weak god, yes." He said with a calm voice. "But he has strong followers. They are zealous, so much is certain. They take their faith very seriously. To serve their god, they even restrain from worldly pleasures, such as wine and women."
Then Sigrid went on to tell stories about the worshippers of the Saxon god, how they thought the lust of the flesh and the frenzy of wine was sinful and evil. How they sought to restrain from everything pleasureful, and that they wanted to channel their god's suffering. I was deeply puzzled then.
Our gods, the Æsir, were rigorous and demanding, but they gave us the pleasures of life, and the pleasures of indulgence. How someone would choose to follow a god that promoted suffering and abstinance was beyond my understanding.
"Pah," Gudrid was scoffing. "And what about it? They are weak, and know even less about living than they know about the way of the gods."
Then Halfdan interrupted him.
"They might not know how to live, son, but they certainly know how to kill." Halfdan said. With his presence, he demanded silence around the fire. Authority came with it. His son, Sigfrid, was slowly nodding. Whiteshirt looked at us, then spoke with his deep voice, like thunder over the sea.
"You can mock their god. Laugh about his suffering. But never underestimate his servants, those bootlickers with their crosses, for they are willing to kill and die for their god."
And then we all drank, as if the talk of killing and death had made us parched.

How Ragnarr and I became rivals

The next day I was leading a scouting party deeper into Derby. We had heard rumors about Saxon troops gathering in the south, soldiers from the kingdoms of Mercia, Wessex, and Essex. Halfdan had ordered me to bring Ragnarr with us, to teach him the ways of war, as he had said. I had felt honored of course, so I took the green boy with me. We were five, and with Ragnarr and me were also Ulfdan, Boeren, and Fink. We were on horse of fidgety Saxon breed, captured after our victory in Newcastle. Rain was pouring down as we went down a grassy hill into the plains below.
"These foolish Saxons," Ragnarr said. "I don't think they are brave enough to face us." Then he laughed and Fink laughed with him.
I turned my horse around, rain and wind in my face. "Now who is the fool who anticipates only the least from his enemy? Will you laugh about a spear they send flying towards you?" I scolded him. The others laugehd and Ragnarr looked at me with violent eyes. He began snarling at me.
"You can be glad, Haesteinn of Richmond, that my father is so fond of you. But know that when I will rule these lands, I will be your lord. And then you will pay the respect that is due."
I led my horse closer to his, so I could see the rage in his eyes and the wroth in his heart. "If you rule," I corrected him. "You may be my lord's blood, so I will always pay you respect. But when the day comes when you will rule, I will not be amongst your men, young Ragnarr."
And his is how Ragnarr and I started our rivalvry. His face was grim, then he commanded his horse to move, his own black hair flowing in the wind. I was less prudent back then, in these times, and I was hungry for strength, not wisdom. I only knew allegiance towards my lord Halfdan, and even though this allegiance bound me to respect and to protect his blood, I would never follow Ragnarr as I followed his father.


The Saxon armies from the south gather around Derby, Mercia, 867 AD.

About our encounter with the enemy

On the same day, when the fire wheel was already low over the plains, we saw the enemy force. The field was plastered with tents and Saxon warriors, several thousand of them, as Boeren was guessing. A formidable force we thought, for a formidable fight. We crept closer, making sure no man or horse would take notice of our presence. They had pikes, horses, bowmen, and even heavy weaponry we had never seen before. Big machines that seemed to be designed to haul rocks and debris towards us. Their suffering god had made them quite resourceful. We not only saw their warriors and engines, but also their heraldry: A golden saltire on a blue field, the cross of St. Alban. Mercia had called to war.

When we reported to Halfdan

"They have gathered then. The Saxons from the south. Under one banner?" Halfdan scoffed.
"Yes, my lord. Several thousand of them." I pointed at Boeren, who was next to me, a small but versatile fighter with a good eye. "Boeren thinks they are over half a dozen of thousand men."
Halfdan's face grew grim.
"So be it then. We shall meet them on the battlefield. We face them openly, and seek glorious victory or glorious death!"
Ubbe, the strong fighter who had caught the Saxon Marshall in the battle of Newcastle, was raising his jug, which was full of mead, and saluted Whiteshirt. "To a glorious death," he shouted and Halfdan watched firmly as we all poured our jugs into the fire.

Of the Battle of Derby

The next two days, we marched on, towards our enemy, towards battle. I was riding with Halfdan Whiteshirt, and Ubbe, and Halfdan's sons. We had ten thousand men and one thousand more in our band of warriors, ready to send the Saxons to their god. I looked at my blade, the blade I had named Sigrdrifumal, victory-bringer. I turned right, towards Halfdan, my king, who saw me mustering my weapon. He nodded and then said. "She shall bring us victory indeed." These words were the only ones Whiteshirt spoke directly to me before the battle.

Then scouts returned and they said. "My lord. The Saxons have readied their formation. They are waiting for us, only an hour away as the horse rides."
"Good." My lord Halfdan said. Then he commanded us to take our men and to prepare the attack. "To blood and glory," he yelled, as he put on his thick steel helmet. Then he climbed off his horse, clenched his sword, whose name was Forseti, and made ready for battle.

I was leading the flank again, three thousand men would follow me into battle, their swords and axes sharp and ready. Our mighty berserkers were meant to breach the line of our Saxon foe, and I, Haesteinn Lawspeaker, would lead them.


The Saxons brace for the Danish charge at the Battle of Derby.

The Saxon army had prepared their defense on a small hill, overlooking the fields of Deoreby, just where we had seen our enemy several days ago. Their stone machines killed many of our men during our advance, but eventually, the battle lines clashed and the bravery of melee combat began. Axes met shields and bones when our men met the Saxon defenders. We outnumbered the enemy, for every Saxon there were two of us, and even though they had fielded their most experienced men, they were no match for Odin's wrath we unleashed upon them.


Danish cavalry charge on the right flank, led by Gudrid Halfdansson.

On the right flank, it was Gudrid who led the attack with his Ridarrer. Swift as Sleipnir, they carried our warriors into battle and struck down many a foe during the initial charge. I was on the right flank as well, leading our berserkers. Sigrid, my king Halfdan's son, was with me when we crossed blades with our foe. Heavy rain poured down on us, washing away the blood we spilled. My blade was swift and sharp, and not long after we had surged upon the enemy, my blade, Sigrdrifumal, was drenched in Saxon blood.

The men from Englaland were brave and strong, but Sigrid struck three men, and I killed five myself. Just when I thrust Sigrdrifumal into the last of them, he jerked back his shield arm and his shield bashed against my wrist. I managed to continue the fight, but I had to leave the killing to my brethren. I continued to encourage them, however, shouting orders and praising the gods.


Hæsteinn leads his Berserkers on the right flank into the Saxon lines.


Hæsteinn as he kills another Saxon soldier. In the process, he is injured on his wrist.

The Saxon lines held together for quite a while, but when the soil of Derby was drenched with Saxon and Danish blood, their shieldwall collapsed and their defense fell apart. All of Halfdan's sons fought bravely in this battle, even Ragnarr, who was then my enemy, but whose bravery in battle I cannot deny. Ragnarr was eager to prove his worth in war, and the amount of Saxon blood in his footsteps gave him right. It was said he and his followers ravaged through the Saxon lines and that the youngest of Halfdan's sons fought as if he was the oldest.


Ragnarr, Halfdan's youngest son, was leading his axemen comrades with great bravery. His rage and
fierceness was known soon after the battle.

But of all the Danish heroes of that day, our king Halfdan Whiteshirt fought the bravest. He was right in the center of battle, where he sought to find our foe's commander and his toughest comrades. His blade Forseti cut through Saxon armor, and with his battle plank, Whiteshirt seemed invincible. In the midst of battle, Halfdan finally began to cross blades with our foe's leader, who was Mayor Swithelm of Stafford, a small man with a slim face and as clever as a fox. But as the fox must yield before the wolf, Swithelm was no match for Halfdan and his strength.


Halfdan Whiteshirt fought with great rage and decisiveness. Here, he faces Swithelm, the Saxons' commander,
in hand to hand combat. Shortly after, Swithelm is protected by multiple of his men and escapes Halfdan's wrath.

My king Whiteshirt slew many men to finally face Swithelm, but the weasly Saxon commander was not brave enough to face him in combat. He hid behind his shield and was protected by his men. Halfdan grew even bigger in his rage, mocking his enemy and taunting him. In his fury, Halfdan killed many more men and the way he tossed our enemies around, made them crumble in fear and despair. But Swithelm, he could not reach.


Halfdan throws a Saxon soldier over his shouldner and his blade Forseti had slid the man's throat.

After the battle, we found out that Swithelm had escaped, along with almost five hundred of his men. But more than six thousand we had killed, and victory was ours. We had won the battle, and we had won the war.<br>


The Battle of Derby, April 867 AD.

After the battle

My hand was hurting, but I did not care, and drowned my pain with mead and beer, and with thinking about woman. About my wife, who was Gerdr, who I loved but who was not here but in Jorvik. I stayed true to her, that night after the battle, but as I stared at the whores' bodies, I wished Gerdr had come with us. It was a true celebration of victory, and of a glorious battle. The Saxons lay before us, already dead, or defeated and begging for their lives. It was Halfdan, my lord, who was their judge.

As it was custom, we took most of them as slaves and some were sold for ransom, and many others were killed that night. More than six thousand Saxons lost their lives that day, sealing the defeat of the Saxon kingdoms and our victory. Revenge had not been ours, but victory in the war was certain. We had defeated their biggest army, an army sent by all the kingdoms in the south. We knew there would not be much more resistance coming.

During that night, one of our men came towards Whiteshirt and spoke. "Tell us, lord," he said, and it was Sven, a tall blonde who was a good warrior. "You led us to a glorious victory. But I wonder: Where is King Ælla? Is he not in the north? Why did we come all the way to Mercia to make war to those Saxons?"

Halfdan nodded and understood. He had known Sven for several years, and for several years Sven had been fighting for my lord, and earned his place at Whiteshirt's table. Halfdan looked around, then his gaze stopped on a young whore who was pouring beer into our cups. My lord grabbed the girl by her arm, swung her around and roughly bent her over, laughing, and exposing her back to all of us.
"See this fine piece of arse, Sven, son of Thorvaldson?" Because Sven was the son of Thorvald the Brave. "Men come from everywhere, longing for a good piece of earth to plough." He playfully slapped the girl on her bum. "Men come running for a good arse. But what does it take for them to stay? Only strength. And a strong mind. And a brat growing in her belly!"
Sven looked as he was confused, and perhaps distracted by the girl's backside.

"The same with war, my friends!" Halfdan shouted. "Men to go war for all kinds of reasons, but stay for few. We seek revenge, yes we do, but a kingdom needs good soil. And much of it. No blood spilled in revenge has ever maintained a kingdom. The Danish rule in Englaland must not be contended by the Saxons in the south. That is why we are here. This is why we beat those Saxons in the field today. To win the war, to win a kingdom!"

How Whiteshirt asked us to renew our oaths

The men were shouting and hailing. Sven Thorvaldson nodded and then started to walk back to his place on Whiteshirt's table. "Wait, Sven." Halfdan commanded. Halfdan stood up from his chair on the head of the table.
"You did well to ask me about our revenge in the name of my father Ragnarr. And no free norseman shall ever be denied to speak freely at my table. But I also need to rely on my companions' fealty. If I lead you to forge a kingdom, I will need to know of your allegiance."
He looked at all of us, his eyes as big and as glowing as the fire wheel when it descends into Ran's realm.
"And this is why I want you to renew your oaths as my companions. If you swear to Thor and his hammer that you will follow me through this war, this war for conquest, and yes, this war for revenge. Then you shall be rewarded my friends. With land, with soil, and with the riches of Englaland."

He looked at us and we raised our horns, and everyone on Halfdan's table was willing to renew his oath. Halfdan raised his horn and poured the beer into the fire so that it sizzled and evapurated. Then we others did the same and swore to our fealty, by Odin and his son Thor, and on Mjölnir, which was Thor's hammer.

The Saxons had lost the war, but were not entirely defeated yet. And in the north, king Ælla was still hiding, trying to escape our vengeance. This was late in spring, in the year 867 of the nailed christian god, when we thought, our war in Englaland had already come to an end...

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Hooray! A new chapter!

I still really like the style you're using for this.

I thought the conflict between Haesteinn and Ragnarr was nicely done, and your description of the battle is great - I especially enjoyed the depiction of Swithelm as a fox and Halfdan as a wolf. I'm looking forward to learning what will challenge the secure position the Danes think they have.

[Zeion]

Thanks Caillagh and to all the other comments above.
This short AAR is certainly something different compared to anything else I did previously, so it is a nice challenge.

In the next and final chapter, the war in Northumbrialand will come to a conclusion and we will learn how the story about Haesteinn and Halfdan ends.
It should be up by tomorrow at the latest!

[Zeion]

Blood Red Eagle - The Sons of Lodbrok Invasion of Northumbrialand



Chapter 3: A Broken Crown

We had won the Battle of Derby and the Saxon land was before us, broken and defeated. But the Æsir did not grant us victory yet and had more trials prepared for us. After the victory of Deoraby, we put the staff of rule over those lands, the lands the Saxons called Chester, Derby, and Leicester. No fort was left unchecked, no town left unscathed. We raided and pillaged, looted and plundered. We were as Fenrir, the wolf of war, whose belly is empty before the great hunt, and we took what we wanted and celebrated our victory in war.

But also for us it was a time of hardship and struggle. Many more skirmishes with the enemy we fought, and many brave Danish men lost their lives when desperate Saxonmen defended their homes and wives from our onslaught.

How the Saxons ask for peace

Several times during these months of pillaging and raiding, the Saxon leaders sent messengers to ask for peace. Their people were suffering and lost faith in their kings and nobles, even though they never lost faith in their one god. Every time the Saxons sent for peace, they were turned down. My lord Halfdan was determined to find Ælla, to take revenge for his father. But with every of these occasions, my lord's crown became heavier. Voices became louder that wanted to see peace after months of fighting, for even a norseman's hunger for bloodshed is quenched one day. And with the cold winter dawning, the flame of war within our men dwindled.

The Saxons offered land, offered acceptance of the Danish kingdom in Jorvik, and accepted their defeat in the war. Many of our men thought that this was they had come for, on their long journey from their homes to the shores of Englaland. Land, peace, and good soil. But there were other voices as well. Others continued to remind my king of his duty to fight for his father's revenge. King Ælla was still hiding in the north, even though his kingdom of Northumbrialand layed in ashes.

One of the most eager protestors against peace was Halfdan's own son Ragnarr. He insisted on Danish pride, on our right for revenge and to take what is ours. "Why do we need peace?" He asked his father. "Does the wolf ever accept peace from the sheep? We shall take what is ours, take what we want, whenever we want it!". Young Ragnarr did not understand that even norse warriors fall in battle, that our numbers where dwindling after months and months of war and fighting. He did not understand that his pride and his thirst for revenge could cost us the kingdom we had already won.<

About the long winter of the year 867

Even in the cold winter of 867, Ragnarr would not change his tone. While his men were freezing and starving, for the land we had pillaged had lost its wealth and wheat, he was still hanging on to his pride and Danish strength. And a long winter it was. The Saxons, who suffered even more since our men continued to raid their lands to take away the little food and cattle they had, kept sending their messengers to ask for peace but to no avail.

Halfdan had led his army back to the lands of Jorvik and made sure that supplies were stored how it should be done, and that food was distributed fairly amongst his men. My king Halfdan Whiteshirt was torn and heavy was the crown on his head. One night that winter, my king sat in his hall and worried was his face. This is when I went up to him, to council him in my position as lawspeaker of Jorvik, and as one of his brethren in battle.

When I gave council to my king

"My king," I said as I approached my lord. "I see you troubled in these times." Halfdan sat on his high chair, contemplating and thinking about the responsibilities of a lord.
"I do, Hæsteinn. Long is the winter already and long has been the war and the fighting that I put my men through. Praised be their loyalty and their fealty."
I sat down at a chair next to a table and continued to listen.
"But I am torn. I set out to find revenge, to give Ælla to the Blood Red Eagle. But the gods seem to withhold this boon from me for they let this false king hide from me, let him escape our just wrath."
He took a sip from his horn. "And all while my men are starving in this winter, ruling over a vast land that we should cultivate. We should trade the blade for a hatchet and make this kingdom grow."
Then he looked at me with his big eyes.
"But to let Ælla escape? Should I forgo my family's just right for revenge? Should I deny myself the honor of revenging my father?"

I looked at my lord for a moment. Then I spoke: "Great is the wisdom in you my king, and your knowledge of war has granted us to kingdom in these lands. Your honor is great, and our enemies fell before your pride. But perhaps it is time to make a sacrifice in your own name to the benefit of your followers? Your men have fought bravely and will continue to do so. But as you have spoken yourself after our victory in Deoraby: No kingdom has ever been built on soil drenched in blood spilled in revenge."
Halfdan Whiteshirt's eyes pierced me and he seemed to ponder what I had said. After a pause, I continued.
"Ælla is hiding in the north. Who knows which hiding hole he has found for himself. But the lands that lay before us, they are ours. You can forge a kingdom and who knows - perhaps the Æsir will grant us our revenge in the years to come?"

Halfdan thought about this for a long time. We went on to eat and drink and speak of other things. But I knew that when there was silence and a pause of talk, my lord would think about what he had said and make a decision.

Halfdan Whiteshirt makes a decision

Several days later, Whiteshirt had assembled us in his hall. Everyone was there, his sons, Leif and Sven, even Ubbe, who had come from further north, from Newcastle, where he had joined Halfdan's brother to set up his winter camp.

"My companions," our king spoke. "You have always followed me, into battle, and into war. You have joined me on Viking for conquest and glory, this quest for revenge. I have promised you wealth, I have promised you land. And I shall grant you all of that. I have made the decision to accept peace with the Saxons, to accept their surrender. It has been a long year of war and fighting, and I have decided it is now time to build our kingdom, a kingdom of the Danes in Englaland."
The faces of our men seemed happy and it could be heard some hails and chants. Except for Ragnarr's face, which was grim. Halfdan continued: "We shall take the lands of Northumbria and establish Danish rule over these lush plains. And even though Ælla is still hiding, living his miserable days in exile, a norse kingdom in Englaland is what my father truly wanted. This is how we will celebrate his legacy. Revenge shall not be forgotten, but now is the time for peace, not the time for further war."

This is how my lord spoke and most of us were enthusiastic about these news. Not his own son Ragnarr, however, who was angry and who spoke: "This is how the Blood Red Eagle is fulfilled then? By Saxon gold and their surrender we bury our weapons and forgo our just revenge?"
The way his son talked made Halfdan very angry. He stood up from his chair and with a harsh and loud voice he said. "This is my hall, son. I am its first speaker and my word shall be your law. Do not question my decision, not in my hall and not before my men."

Ragnarr pressed his lips together so they appeared to be a thin line of hatred. He was silenced, but angrily he stood up and rushed out of the hall, with some of his close companions following him.
Halfdan ignored this incident and we continued to speak about how the land shall be cultivated and distributed. Sigfrid, Halfdan's oldest son, departed to bring the Saxons our terms of surrender and to negotiate the peace all of Englaland waited for.

After the talking, I spoke to my lord. "What about your son, lord?" But Halfdan waved his hand and responsed. "He will come to his senses. If not, I will have to teach him a lesson!" That is all that was spoken about it that day, but it was not to be the end of it.

About the revolt

Peace was made with the Saxons, and we had indeed begun to cultivate the land, and to make it our permanent home. A law stone was errected in Jorvik as a symbol for our official rule over the lands of Northumbria, as a beacon of our kingdom and of the Old Gods we call Æsir.

Some weeks later, it was early in the year 868 of the Christian god, news arrived from the south. Halfdan and Sigfrid, and I was with them as well, we were with Thorbald, our smith, and we had just finished building a new furnace for our forge. Eobald, a messenger of Halfdan's, came rushing towards us.

He told us that villages in the south had reported raids by norsemen. And that word had reached the Saxon king in Mercia about our apparent betrayel of the peace.
Sigfrid immediately turned to his father and said: "Ragnar." His father, my lord Halfdan, only nodded. Sigfrid, who was the wisest of Halfdan's sons and who was the least of a warrior of all of them, was sent to the Saxons to make sure that peace was maintained. We others, however, made ready for another battle.

"Whoever is behind these raids is not obeying to my word which is law in the lands of Jorvik," Halfdan said to his men. "I want him to be found, and I want him punished. He shall be brought before me and be judged at the holmgang."

Later, when I marched besides my lord, I asked him with a careful voice. "What if Sigfrid was right, if it is Ragnarr who is behind these raids? Will you take him to the holm?"
Halfdan looked at me with a grim face. "I cannot take my own son to the holm. But if it is my offspring who has disobeyed my law, then I must exile him and take away his rights as my own flesh and blood."
"If it is really my son," he continued. "Then he must not be killed. I want to sentence him alive."
This is how Halfdan was just and honorable in his judgement.

Who was behind the raids and how he was judged

It was early February when we arrived at the raided villages in the south. We were a little over eighty men then, a small warband seeking to bring justice and peace to these troubled lands that now belonged to Danish rule. The villagers were fearful about our arrival and worried another raid was about to happen. We assured them that their king and lord had come to ensure peace and to punish those who had raided his lands. The scared villagers pointed us into the direction of the attackers and off we set towards the western woods.

There we found the raiders who had taken from the land which were my lord Halfdan's. They had seen us coming and were waiting for us at the edge of the forest. Sigfrid had been right, it was Ragnarr, Whiteshirt's own son, who had raided his father's lands and disobeyed his father's laws.

"Ragnarr, son, what is this about? Have you turned against your own family, your own father?" Halfdan was visibly shocked, even though he was not truly surprised.<br>
"Father, it is you who has turned against his family, against your own father and the revenge that is just and honorable. This peace with these Saxons, it shows you have become weak and faltered." Now we saw that Ragnarr and his companions had their weapons ready and wore full armor.

Halfdan came closer to his son, ordering us others to stay behind.
"You might not fully understand the reasons why I made this peace. It is your right even to critize the decision I have made. But obey to my laws you must, follow my command and my orders. As my son, and as my blood." Then Halfdan looked at the others, at Ragnarr's men that had followed him. "Know this men: Even though you have taken from Saxons and not Norsemen, you have raided my lands and broken my laws. I give you this last chance to submit and withdraw your weapons, to join back into my ranks. Then we might even forget what has happened here today."
Ragnarr's men were mustering each other. Then their leader replied. "These are my men, father. They follow me because they know I would never forsaken our gods, our right for vengeance. You will find no concilation here today."

"So be it then," Halfdan spoke. "Men," he turned around to us. "These are outlaws, raiders, criminals. They are no longer protected by my word or say. Their sentence is death and we will execute this sentence at this very place. Attack!" Then he stormed into Ragnarr's shieldwall himself, and we men were following him.

The battle of father and son

As I rushed towards our enemy's shield wall, I looked at the grey and dry winter soil below me. So this is where Danes will spill Danish blood, I thought, as I held my battle plank and my weapon tightly. <i>Sigrdrífumál</i>, my trusted blade, who had brought me glory in fighting our Saxon foe, would now struck down Danish fighters in our new home.


Halfdan Whiteshirt fighting Danish raiders in his new kingdom, 868 AD.

The battle was short and decisive. As our force clashed into their shield wall, their lines collapsed and the battle developed into an open brawl where man fought against man, and blood was in the air. It pained me to slay the same men I had fought with side by side in our war against the Saxons, but the Æsir demand obedience to our laws and these men had failed their gods.

I fought side by side with Halfdan as we fought through Ragnarr's men. They were good warriors, but were no match for Whiteshirt and his most trusted companions. With us were also Ubbe and Leif, who struck down many friends who had abandoned them and our lord to follow Ragnarr in his rebellion. They all played the blood price for their treason.


Hæsteinn Lawspeaker fighting through the rows of Ragnarr's companions.


Halfdan Ragnarsson, king of Northumbrialand and Jorvik, bringing his sentence to Ragnarr's rebellion.

After a bloodied battle, Ragnarr and three more of his men were surrounded. Many Danes had died that day, and Halfdan was furious about the loss of Norsemen.
"This blood is on you, son. The Æsir shall curse you for making us claim the blood price for this treason."
Ragnarr's companions withdrew their weapons and surrendered. In a last attempt, Ragnarr stormed towards us, his axe ready to strike, yelling "I will not surrender!". I parried his boisterous blow and disarmed my lord's son.

Halfdan then spoke his sentence. "I cannot claim your blood or bring you to the holm, as you are still my son, Ragnarr. So by our gods the Æsir, I banish you from these lands which are mine. If you ever set foot into Northumbrialand again, I will have you killed by my men. I banish you from my court and land and into exile!"

The rebellion by Ragnarr Halfdansson had ended, and I have not heard or seen of him since then.

Peace is maintained

While we put Ragnarr and his men to justice, Sigfrid had continued his negotiations with the Saxon lord in Mercia and maintained the peace. This was a great achievement and Halfdan was proud of his charismatic and wise son. And so the year 868 of the christian god began in peace, after a long year of war and many battles and skirmishes, Saxons and Norsemen made peace to share the lands of Englaland.


The kingdom of Halfdan Whiteshirt, in 868 AD, after peace was made.

My lord, Halfdan Whiteshirt, had gained his kingdom in Northumbrialand, and had payed a great price for his kingdom. Even though he continued to rule well, he never truly forgot the treason by his own son. The crown he gained was a broken one.

I was awarded with the lands of Dunholm, north of Jorvik, to rule and administer myself, and I also remained lawspeaker of my lord's court. My lands were fertile and lush, and together with my wife Gerdr I built a farmstead to start living off the land. And in the longhouse, right behind the honorable high seat, there was at the wall, Sigrdrífumál, victory-bringer, my blade from the Saxon war.

This is how the Lodbrok Invasion of Northumbrialand ended, with a gained kingdom, a broken crown, and a revenge that had not been achieved. The Blood Red Eagle was unclaimed.

[Zeion]

This final chapter of the Blood Red Eagle brings this short AAR to an end. I hope you enjoyed this little story about a quite interesting part of history. I saw this as a little holiday from my actual, if you will, AAR I'm working on. Here, the emphasis was more on creating an immersive and fun story rather than aiming to create some sort of big work.

Some lessons learned from my side, which might be interesting for you as a reader and for other AAR creators:
- The mixture of CK2 and Total War was very interesting but also difficult. Where Total War only provides some bare minimum of information about characters (even if you play ME2 with mods that add flavor traits) and events and leaves the author with much room for creativity, CK2 almost provides too much. All those character traits and background stories, events that pop up during the game... they all provide so much information that it becomes difficult to incorporate all of them into a story. Consequently, you have to find your own way and distil your own story from the vastness of information.

- Using Total War battles to re-create battles from CK2 was a fun experience, however, and it's certainly recommended.

- With a vast game such as CK2, there comes of course the problem of the scale. This whole AAR took me many hours to write, and the events in this AAR pretty much cover a whole year. In a Total War campaign (depending on the game of course), it might have taken a couple of hours to play. In Attila, it would be four full turns with several battles and decisions to be made. In CK2, it only took me about 30 minutes to play to the point where this story ends. This can be a good thing - but I'm not sure if CK2 is perfectly suited for personal AARs. Of course, historical ones that go more into the direction of "alternative history" are a different story...

- The character and the world came really natural for me in this one. This was certainly fun and I almost feel tempted to, at some point, come back to some of these characters.

- With the final chapter, the story of this AAR has concluded. I do plan to do an epilogue at some point, but that will be a few weeks from now. At this time, I will go back to my main AAR (Chronicles of Cimmeria) and I'd be happy to see you over there.

Cheers and thanks for reading!
Z

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

That's a great ending. Success, but also great disappointment. Nicely done!

Your notes on how you created the AAR were interesting, too.

(Off to get a bit further through Chronicles of Cimmeria...)

[Alwyn]

A very enjoyable ending to a great AAR! The confrontation between Halfdan and Ragnarr was well done. I like the authentic details, such as the King using 'Viking' as a verb (in the phrase "You have joined me on Viking"). I also liked reading your reflections on the process of writing an AAR using two games. I look forward to the epilogue, to new chapters in your excellent Chronicles of Cimmeria and to the possible return of characters from this story in future.

[Beckitz]

This whole AAR practically oozes testosterone from the text - I love it! . Great job Zeion, and I look forward to finishing Chronicles sometime in the very near future