Prisoners of War

[Gandalfus]

Captured Characters:

Ralph de Monthermer, Baron Monthermer - Captured Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford - Captured Roger Mortimer, Baron Mortimer - Captured Thomas de Berkeley, Baron Berkeley - Captured Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford - Captured Marmaduke Tweng, Baron Thweng - Captured

The destruction of the English army was total. Those who tried to run were either cut down or captured, with much of England's peerage among them. Common prisoners would have their throats cut, for that was the way of war. But noble born prisoners were treated with great dignity, with some even allowed the freedom to roam the encampment, such was the trust in a gentleman's honour and integrity that he would not break captivity. They would be bound into paying an exorbitant ransom, and such was the degree of trust that often the prisoner was released before the ransom had been fully paid. English nobles would have every expectation of good treatment, and thus being captured was but a minor inconvenience compared to the finality of death that their underlings would experience. Most of them were kept in lodgings befitting their rank within the newly captured Stirling Castle, awaiting summons by the Scots King.

[Oznerol]

The earl of Hereford was incredibly grumpy and seriousy gloomy. Not only he had been deemed unworthy of being constable of the English army (now that brat laid dead, God be merciful, his beloved nephew. A , noneless) in the first place, but, alas, he had been ultimately captured at Bothwell castle; after he had survived the fight. Hereford had told Angus, that fool of Umfraville, not to trust the castellan and go on until Dunbar, but their horses were wasted and everyone was quite tired, both from the prolonged fight and the exhausting flight. Humphrey had escaped the battle mostly unscathed, but he noneless could barely move for a whole day, his joints aching from the brutal overexertion few days before. At least being captive meant he was a in a cage, no matter how gilded, and could rest without being disturbed. Sadly, it also meant you were at the mercy of a potentially vindictive enemy. Unfortunately, Bruce had been a life-long neighbour of Bohun in Essex itself and the earl had been awarded the king's English posessions; and Lochmaben too, which now Humphrey considered lost. He sighed deeply, disheartened at the loss of honor and reputation. He hoped the ransom wouldn't wreck his income forever. If he was indeed ransomed.

God be merciful.

Deeply inside, at least he was slightly happy that he remained the highest ranking Englishman around. At least he was a big catch, something they could tell tales about. Capturing the earl of Hereford! The king's brother! Not a bad tale to be told before a fireplace. Some men would still relish the memory in their old age, having the chance of capturing such a high born individual. Shame the Scots were mostly unwashed barbarians. Disgusting.

[Lord William]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Thomas de Berkeley nearly in his 70's was still fighting like he was 40 years younger, his movement had slowed down of course but his technique was perfect. As the battle ensued Thomas was separated from his son Maurice de Berkeley and his men, he found himself in the front lines fighting face to face with the Scots. A head butt here, a hip bump there, Thomas was throwing his opponents off balance before killing them. Finally he was confronted by 3 Scottish knights, he fought hard fending off his opponents even getting in a few blows before getting captured. If Thomas was younger he might have killed all 3 but unfortunately old age is unforgiving and catches up with even the best of men. Now a captured Lord Berkeley sits amongst his noble companions and awaits a summons from the Scottish King.

Thomas began speaking with the Earl of Hereford attempting to console him
Tis a shame to see such youth slain on the field of battle, fret not my Lord Hereford heaven awaits the young lad.
Thomas made a cross
A boy so young, how much misdeeds could he committed in such a short life? I am certain heaven awaits him, unlike myself; I have lived a full life and many things to atone.

[The Mad Skylord]

It had been a fierce and exhilarating battle for the Scots man, Angus. On the first day, the Earl of Moray, Thomas Randolph had routed the enemy cavalry with a vicious charge of his light horse, and the king himself had split the head of a de Bohun open like a cask of distilled honey mead colliding with the ground from a great height.

The true fight had begun of the second day, however, and it had been with the Black Douglas that Angus had met the foe, fighting in a Scots Schiltron. The English horse and foot were butchered by the veteran troops of The Bruce.

It had been near the end that Angus had seen a curious thing, an English nobleman waving his buttocks at the Scotsmen, deeply amused, Angus had scratched underneath his leine, feeling himself begin to rise. He started off across the field, where the English man was failing to move even an unarmoured foe by grinding against him. He was looking forwards to some fun. The English had ed the Scots for long enough, time to return the favour.

Sadly, the King deployed his reserve at around this time, and Berkeley was taken by a fierce looking Scots Washerwoman who kicked him in the testicle and hammered him in the face with a wooden club as he reeled about in agony.

Twas a shame that the King's reserve of Highlanders and Camp followers had arrived to steal Angus' after battle treat, but no matter. He'd rob corpses of their riches instead.

[Barry Goldwater]

The Earl of Oxford chafed in his gilded fetters. The battle had been supposed to be a swift and crushing victory: they had amassed the largest host in English history, were led by the son of the mighty Hammer of the Scots who had reaffirmed the fear of God in the hearts of the Scots barbarians - a tall and strong fellow, who nobody could mistake for someone else's child - and had been so very close to winning the war and subjugating Scotland once and for all after nearly twenty years of warfare.

And then, somehow, they lost. He suspected it came down to the destruction of Clifford's battle on the first day, when some Thomas Grey of Heaton thought it would be a good idea to charge a schiltron head-on and the rest of the English cavalry with him thought it was an even better idea to follow. Or maybe it was Gloucester's equally foolish, unsupported charge into yet more Scots schiltrons on the second day, after which the disorganized and disoriented English infantry was ground up by their advancing and heartened foe.

Well, whatever it was, the fact of the matter was that England had lost - it wasn't even close, or an honorable defeat, they were utterly trounced - and the sixth Earl of Oxford found himself among the prisoners. He'd heard Hereford's cousin had rushed at the King of Scots at the very beginning of the battle and gotten his head split for his troubles, and of course he was quite aware that the day was lost by too many younger knights and lords launching foolhardy charges in their desire for glory, but Oxford was an older veteran who knew when he was defeated. So when he found himself surrounded by Scots footmen, he had the sense to stand down, remove his helm and allow them to lead him off the battlefield. And now here he was, a prisoner of the Scottish enemy that he had once helped crush utterly at Falkirk (though he had to concede Bruce treated his opponents with surprising charity, and the barbarism of his people hadn't made him forget how to properly treat a noble prisoner), and his highest hope at the moment wasn't that England would recover and one day avenge this humiliation - it was that his ransom, if he could indeed offer one, wouldn't cripple his house forever. A good thing that I avoided spending on the frivolities of court life as much as I could, he reflected darkly: this was not how he was hoping his austere lifestyle would pay off.

[Gandalfus]

The earl of Hereford was incredibly grumpy and seriousy gloomy. Not only he had been deemed unworthy of being constable of the English army (now that brat laid dead, God be merciful, his beloved nephew. A , noneless) in the first place, but, alas, he had been ultimately captured at Bothwell castle; after he had survived the fight. Hereford had told Angus, that fool of Umfraville, not to trust the castellan and go on until Dunbar, but their horses were wasted and everyone was quite tired, both from the prolonged fight and the exhausting flight. Humphrey had escaped the battle mostly unscathed, but he noneless could barely move for a whole day, his joints aching from the brutal overexertion few days before. At least being captive meant he was a in a cage, no matter how gilded, and could rest without being disturbed. Sadly, it also meant you were at the mercy of a potentially vindictive enemy. Unfortunately, Bruce had been a life-long neighbour of Bohun in Essex itself and the earl had been awarded the king's English posessions; and Lochmaben too, which now Humphrey considered lost. He sighed deeply, disheartened at the loss of honor and reputation. He hoped the ransom wouldn't wreck his income forever. If he was indeed ransomed.

God be merciful.

Deeply inside, at least he was slightly happy that he remained the highest ranking Englishman around. At least he was a big catch, something they could tell tales about. Capturing the earl of Hereford! The king's brother! Not a bad tale to be told before a fireplace. Some men would still relish the memory in their old age, having the chance of capturing such a high born individual. Shame the Scots were mostly unwashed barbarians. Disgusting.

Bruce's demand for ransom would reach the King of England, rather than Bohun himself: on account of Bruce's old acquaintance being Edward of Caernarfon's brother by marriage.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Thomas de Berkeley nearly in his 70's was still fighting like he was 40 years younger, his movement had slowed down of course but his technique was perfect. As the battle ensued Thomas was separated from his son Maurice de Berkeley and his men, he found himself in the front lines fighting face to face with the Scots. A head butt here, a hip bump there, Thomas was throwing his opponents off balance before killing them. Finally he was confronted by 3 Scottish knights, he fought hard fending off his opponents even getting in a few blows before getting captured. If Thomas was younger he might have killed all 3 but unfortunately old age is unforgiving and catches up with even the best of men. Now a captured Lord Berkeley sits amongst his noble companions and awaits a summons from the Scottish King.

Thomas began speaking with the Earl of Hereford attempting to console him
Tis a shame to see such youth slain on the field of battle, fret not my Lord Hereford heaven awaits the young lad.
Thomas made a cross
A boy so young, how much misdeeds could he committed in such a short life? I am certain heaven awaits him, unlike myself; I have lived a full life and many things to atone.

Bruce's demand for ransom was to be £2000, with Berkeley released to gather funds after half the amount has been paid.

The Earl of Oxford chafed in his gilded fetters. The battle had been supposed to be a swift and crushing victory: they had amassed the largest host in English history, were led by the son of the mighty Hammer of the Scots who had reaffirmed the fear of God in the hearts of the Scots barbarians - a tall and strong fellow, who nobody could mistake for someone else's child - and had been so very close to winning the war and subjugating Scotland once and for all after nearly twenty years of warfare.

And then, somehow, they lost. He suspected it came down to the destruction of Clifford's battle on the first day, when some Thomas Grey of Heaton thought it would be a good idea to charge a schiltron head-on and the rest of the English cavalry with him thought it was an even better idea to follow. Or maybe it was Gloucester's equally foolish, unsupported charge into yet more Scots schiltrons on the second day, after which the disorganized and disoriented English infantry was ground up by their advancing and heartened foe.

Well, whatever it was, the fact of the matter was that England had lost - it wasn't even close, or an honorable defeat, they were utterly trounced - and the sixth Earl of Oxford found himself among the prisoners. He'd heard Hereford's cousin had rushed at the King of Scots at the very beginning of the battle and gotten his head split for his troubles, and of course he was quite aware that the day was lost by too many younger knights and lords launching foolhardy charges in their desire for glory, but Oxford was an older veteran who knew when he was defeated. So when he found himself surrounded by Scots footmen, he had the sense to stand down, remove his helm and allow them to lead him off the battlefield. And now here he was, a prisoner of the Scottish enemy that he had once helped crush utterly at Falkirk (though he had to concede Bruce treated his opponents with surprising charity, and the barbarism of his people hadn't made him forget how to properly treat a noble prisoner), and his highest hope at the moment wasn't that England would recover and one day avenge this humiliation - it was that his ransom, if he could indeed offer one, wouldn't cripple his house forever. A good thing that I avoided spending on the frivolities of court life as much as I could, he reflected darkly: this was not how he was hoping his austere lifestyle would pay off.

Oxford's was a similar demand. £2000 for ransom. Apparently the King Robert was feeling generous, or so the servants whispered, as the English baggage train was proving a lucrative enough prize.

--

@Monthermer: On account of their friendship, and as a repayment of a past debt (Monthermer warning Bruce of his imminent arrest, allowing him to escape) Bruce's demand is merely to break bread with him, along with the Baron Thweng. Both men would be released a few days later, free to make the trip south to their king.

[Barry Goldwater]

Oxford's was a similar demand. £2000 for ransom. Apparently the King Robert was feeling generous, or so the servants whispered, as the English baggage train was proving a lucrative enough prize.

The amount will, of course, be paid: Oxford will spend his annual revenue on the ransom until it is fully paid off, which admittedly could take a while.

[Jokern]

I should have stayed in Ireland, Roger Mortimer grimly thought as he consumed his luncheon in his temporary living quarters. The young baron's pride was more hurt than his body after he had been captured at Bannockburn. He had fought in the Welsh contingent led by his uncle Mortimer de Chirk but had been overwhelmed by the Scottish schiltrons on the second day. Luckily some of the Highlander barbarians had recognized him as a proper lord and hauled him away for ransom. The humiliation stung and the food was barely edible, yet he lived while many other did not. Roger wished the King, wherever he was, all the luck in the world against whatever storm was waiting for him back home. Mortimer chewed on some overcooked piece of meat as he thought of his possessions in Meath once more, yearning to deal with those pesky de Clare of Rathwire relatives of his wife.

[Gandalfus]

I should have stayed in Ireland, Roger Mortimer grimly thought as he consumed his luncheon in his temporary living quarters. The young baron's pride was more hurt than his body after he had been captured at Bannockburn. He had fought in the Welsh contingent led by his uncle Mortimer de Chirk but had been overwhelmed by the Scottish schiltrons on the second day. Luckily some of the Highlander barbarians had recognized him as a proper lord and hauled him away for ransom. The humiliation stung and the food was barely edible, yet he lived while many other did not. Roger wished the King, wherever he was, all the luck in the world against whatever storm was waiting for him back home. Mortimer chewed on some overcooked piece of meat as he thought of his possessions in Meath once more, yearning to deal with those pesky de Clare of Rathwire relatives of his wife.

Mortimer is woken up the next morning by the sound of clamouring outside his door. Two armed and armoured men entered, for apparently the King of Scots wished to see the Marcher Lord. Servants washed and dressed him promptly, the pair impatiently waiting until Roger could finally be led into the chamber of Stirling Castle that 'King Hobbe' awaited him in, surrounded by a throng of nobles and still clad in chainmail. The infamous Bruce was a good deal shorter than the King of England, and far less handsome; darkened circles were smudged around tired eyes, for he'd stood the whole night in vigil over the body of his distant kinsman de Clare who'd fell the day before.

"Lord Mortimer."

Brus' voice was as rough as his French. He eyed the baron with ambivalence, expecting some show of deference - many of the English refused still to recognise his regal status.

[Jokern]

Mortimer is woken up the next morning by the sound of clamouring outside his door. Two armed and armoured men entered, for apparently the King of Scots wished to see the Marcher Lord. Servants washed and dressed him promptly, the pair impatiently waiting until Roger could finally be led into the chamber of Stirling Castle that 'King Hobbe' awaited him in, surrounded by a throng of nobles and still clad in chainmail. The infamous Bruce was a good deal shorter than the King of England, and far less handsome; darkened circles were smudged around tired eyes, for he'd stood the whole night in vigil over the body of his distant kinsman de Clare who'd fell the day before.

"Lord Mortimer."

Brus' voice was as rough as his French. He eyed the baron with ambivalence, expecting some show of deference - many of the English refused still to recognise his regal status.

Mortimer tried to stand tall and defiant to the Scottish king in front of him, meeting de Bruce's eyes. He felt honored in a way, being brought forth like this was not exactly usual for dealing with prisoners of war. Roger suspected something more from this, but he could not for his life figure out what. He was not the most prominent lord, not even an earl. Whatever the Scot wanted, he would give the satisfaction of his enemy bowing his head into the dirt. He answered in French, much more refined than what the unrefined Scot had spoken.

"Lord de Bruce."

[Gandalfus]

Mortimer tried to stand tall and defiant to the Scottish king in front of him, meeting de Bruce's eyes. He felt honored in a way, being brought forth like this was not exactly usual for dealing with prisoners of war. Roger suspected something more from this, but he could not for his life figure out what. He was not the most prominent lord, not even an earl. Whatever the Scot wanted, he would give the satisfaction of his enemy bowing his head into the dirt. He answered in French, much more refined than what the unrefined Scot had spoken.

"Lord de Bruce."

King Robert's lips twitched into something that resembled a smile of vague approval.

"I wish for you to bring my regards to thy lord and King."

Bruce's servants had inventoried everything in Edward's baggage train that had been captured, including his royal seal.

"Send my condolences for his nephew's demise. I stood vigil for him, as my kinsman."

A travesty, that one so young and noble born should die so foolishly. A servant stepped forward, handing the King of Scots a leather satchel. After a brief moments hesitation, he extended it toward the marcher lord.

"And return to him this. The King might have need for his seal, after all."

[Jokern]

Roger had to stop his jaw from dropping. Hands trembling, he reached out and took the satchel. He felt like Atlas holding the world in the palm of his hand. To simply hand over such a prized possession without a single demand... it somehow felt wrong. It had to be a ruse, the Scotsman was planning something. Mortimer straightened himself out to keep himself calm and collected.

"So I am free to go, no ransom required? Handing over your enemy's royal seal is quite a sign of grace, my lord."

[Gandalfus]

Roger had to stop his jaw from dropping. Hands trembling, he reached out and took the satchel. He felt like Atlas holding the world in the palm of his hand. To simply hand over such a prized possession without a single demand... it somehow felt wrong. It had to be a ruse, the Scotsman was planning something. Mortimer straightened himself out to keep himself calm and collected.

"So I am free to go, no ransom required? Handing over your enemy's royal seal is quite a sign of grace, my lord."

"We wish to make peace, Mortimer."

Bannockburn had been a great victory, but Robert needed time to consolidate his gains. Comyn and Balliol's partisans still troubled him greatly, as did the lack of a son. The King of Scots folded his burly arms across his chest.

"Yes, I shall release you from the obligation to remain in my power. The payment shall be this service you render me."

[Jokern]

"We wish to make peace, Mortimer."

Bannockburn had been a great victory, but Robert needed time to consolidate his gains. Comyn and Balliol's partisans still troubled him greatly, as did the lack of a son. The King of Scots folded his burly arms across his chest.

"Yes, I shall release you from the obligation to remain in my power. The payment shall be this service you render me."

"Then I shall take my leave, Lord de Bruce. I will deliver your words and wishes to my liege, though whether or not they will be heard I cannot promise."

With that done, Roger made a courteous bow and left. He returned to his temporary living quarters, gathered what few possessions he had arrived with, grabbed a horse from the stables and began his journey south.

[Lord William]

Thomas de Berkeley wished to speak with King Robert de Bruce, it seemed that the Scottish King wanted 2000 crowns for his release which is quite unreasonable considering Thomas's finances.

[Gandalfus]

The audience is granted. Berkeley is escorted to the audience chamber of Stirling Castle, where King Robert waits, having found a moment in the day to converse with this prisoner.

[Lord William]

The audience is granted. Berkeley is escorted to the audience chamber of Stirling Castle, where King Robert waits, having found a moment in the day to converse with this prisoner.

Thomas de Berkeley bowed before the Scottish a King

Evening your Grace, it has come to my attention that you are seeking $2000 ransom for my release. You may not be aware of my finances but with such a ransom you might as well sign my death warrant. I am already in my 70's and to save such an amount will take much longer than I have to live. I ask you to grant an old man some mercy, and allow me to spend my final days with my grandchildren

[Dirty Chai]

[OOC: Speeding this process up a bit]

In return for the release of his brother-in-law, the Earl of Hereford, Edward, Roi d'Angleterre, offers to release all of his captives and hostages of Scottish origin and import: Robert Bruce's wife, Elizabeth de Burgh, his sisters Mary and Christina, his daughter Marjorie, the bishops of Glasgow and St Andrews, and Robert Bruce's nephew Donald, Earl of Mar.

[Gandalfus]

Thomas de Berkeley bowed before the Scottish a King

Evening your Grace, it has come to my attention that you are seeking $2000 ransom for my release. You may not be aware of my finances but with such a ransom you might as well sign my death warrant. I am already in my 70's and to save such an amount will take much longer than I have to live. I ask you to grant an old man some mercy, and allow me to spend my final days with my grandchildren

"If you can find one to serve in your place, Lord Berkeley, then I am inclined to allow you to leave."

Bruce wasn't simply going to let a prisoner of import slip away without something in return, old man or not. Berkeley had been young enough to take up arms against him after all.

"Or you can raise funds to pay me."

[OOC: Speeding this process up a bit]

In return for the release of his brother-in-law, the Earl of Hereford, Edward, Roi d'Angleterre, offers to release all of his captives and hostages of Scottish origin and import: Robert Bruce's wife, Elizabeth de Burgh, his sisters Mary and Christina, his daughter Marjorie, the bishops of Glasgow and St Andrews, and Robert Bruce's nephew Donald, Earl of Mar.

Hereford had been taken from Stirling to Bruce's castle of Lochmaben, now once again in the hands of the rightful Lord of Annandale; suitably ironic considering Humphrey himself had once laid claim to it. The Earl of Hereford is woken one morning earlier than usual by the servants - a bath had also been prepared for him. The Constable, a round, balding man who had served with Brus at Bannockburn made his intention known to converse with the Earl if it please him to do so.

[Lord William]

"If you can find one to serve in your place, Lord Berkeley, then I am inclined to allow you to leave."

Bruce wasn't simply going to let a prisoner of import slip away without something in return, old man or not. Berkeley had been young enough to take up arms against him after all.

"Or you can raise funds to pay me."

Your Grace, I don't mean to insult you but why would I do such a thing. Sending a young man to rot for 20 or 30 years, when I've lived a full life and will most likely die in the coming months. It goes without saying once I die, so does any chance of a ransom. All the money would you would have spent to keep me alive would all be for waste.