The Heirs of Britain - Game Four Point Five

The Heirs of Britain

Session 4.5: 480, Lord of the Manor (Vandagild Solo)

Sir Vandagild, recovered from the worst of his grief and grievous wound, surveys the hall of Winterborne Gunner; now his hall. He sees the marks of his father’s work and life throughout, each scuff and mark bringing memories of the dead man; slain fighting for the High King Aurelius, the man with whom he sailed from fertile Aquitaine; the man with whom he fought to reclaim Aurelius' righteous Kingship.

And now both are dead, lain to rest beneath Stonehenge, beneath the Sacred Stones of the Giant’s Dance; stones that his father helped the now King Uther take from Ireland. His father always swelled with pride at our superiority over those meagre folk from the western island. But both those men are dead, and Uther's Kingdom uncertain and broken, with menacing Saxons settled mere days from these lands. Though their defeat at Salisbury was crushing, the Saxons will no doubt recover, and with Britain ununified before them…

Vandagild's thoughts are interrupted by a servant; the feast is on schedule and the guests due to arrive. He nods gratefully and looks for his Lady Catrin: His heart is weakened with love upon finding her; she wears his gifts, and her fiery hair rests gracefully on a viridian dress, swollen at the belly. They share a smile.

______ The Guests Arrive _____

Notable Guests include the Earl, Sir Roderick of Sarum Rock; Sir Elad, Marshall of Vagon; Sir Golistan the Hunstman (Lady Catrin’s father); and Sir Amig Castellan of DuPlain and leader of Vandagild’s eschille in Salisbury. Each is glad to see Vandagild alive, but offers condolences for his father. Amig gruffly praises Vandagild’s toughness; he saw the wound he took as it happened, and thought him dead at once. Alas, Sirs Iwan and Elvorix cannot attend, with pressing matters in their own lands.

Sir Golistan, aside, tells Vandagild that his son Uvan is of age to Squire; he offers Vandagild the privilege; he accepts graciously and keenly! He has known young Uvan for many years, and though once he playfully scruffled his hair, Vandagild now grips his arm firmly; he smiles with pride and anticipation of adventure.

The guests are all brought to their seats; it is noted that Vandagild is dressed and presents exceptionally well! He has invested more money than is usual to ensure the feast impresses; it is his first as Vassal and landowner, and in the presence of great men. Vandagild, as host, sits at the high table among the most famous and noble guests, as does his young uncle Sir Vanduith, who saved his life in battle.

Vandagild orates once wine is poured, thanking all present for their presence, noting their importance in his life, and emphasising how each makes him a better man and a better knight. He speaks modestly, turning the glory to his guests and their fine character. A joyous roar responds, and a toast is raised in his name!

In timely fashion the food is served: The first course is delicious roasted meat with mustard; it steams, and the aroma as it enters brings many to search for the source. As we talk, Earl Roderick has a request: He enjoyed the speech and approves of Vandagild’s modesty. The journey, however, was difficult; the weather turns cold and snowy; his entourage need good rest. Without hesitation, Vandagild offers the best rooms in the manor for the Earl and his Knights. Lady Catrin is somewhat put aside, but Vandagild reassures her that the inconvenience is temporary; he promises to commission her a fine embroidered cushion as apology.

_____ A Witch and a Falcon _____

As the second course is cleared, a moment allows for guests and servants to pledge to their Lord. Many unnotable folk proffer properly, but one draws mention here: A witch! An older lady, swathed in cloaks, enters slowly, under careful eye of many. She bows deeply, and from her cloaks she brings a small, round stone, with a clearly carved icon. She introduces herself as Llyria of the Wodewood; this stone was from her grandmother, who received it from a druid. It is a charm for the health of newborns. She tells that folk speak well of the young Lord Vandagild, and she offers it to him now, wishing prosperity and good health upon his family! An auspicious and generous gift, Vandagild accepts it graciously. Briefly conversing with Catrin they agree and declare: Their first daughter will be named for this gift; Llyria! Catrin caresses her swollen belly idly. The woman offers that we may need to write it for safekeeping, if we’re able; Vandagild will have first five sons; she knows this. Vandagild is curious, but the mysterious woman departs, leaving a strange and pleasing energy behind her.

Feasting continues, but soon Sir Golistan clasps Vandagild joyfully by the shoulder; on his other arm, a Falcon! Hooded and calm, the creature impresses, though Vandagild knows little of these beasts. Golistan is proud of his new bird, he received it as a gift from the Duke of Lindsey! Look, Vandagild, Look at her sheen! A magnificent creature! Earl Roderick happens nearby, and brings himself to the conversation; oh the joy of this creature, talons like porcelain daggers, wings like an angel of the wood! The two men glow with excitement, and declare that we MUST fly the animal! Vandagild, of course, assents; he brings Lady Catrin, for she is fond of falconry and quite the talent.

Vandagild, however, is not the talent; though his love for hunting is famous, he spends little time with birds. Nonetheless, fortune favours him; when he flies the beast after a coney, it returns alive and well! Golistan is the better, of course, timing his release perfectly and snagging a healthy hare for the kitchen! Roderick is joyous! He laments the lack of good falconry in Salisbury, and suggests maybe Vandagild ought to develop his talent; he clearly has a knack! Vandagild promises to do so, for his Lord's pleasure.

_____ A Royal Surprise _____

Later, while discussing the Battle of Salisbury with the older knights and thanking Vanduinth for saving his life, Vandagild is interrupted: Prince Madoc, Heir to the Kingdom, Fellow Defeater of the Quintaine at Vagon, and friend of Vandagild’s, has arrived! Most unexpectedly! And most inebriatedly! He brings Sir Jarren with him, the son of Baron Duach and the finest swordsman in the land. The two have brought their own wine, but are in want of more. Vandagild is joyous!

Alas, there is complication: Madoc’s rank demands a seat at the High Table, of which nil are spare. Vandagild decides quickly, though not without pain, that Sir Vanduinth is the only man he might fairly ask to leave; and propriety demands that ask he must. The latter is famously proud, but Vandagild speaks well; he promises Vanduinth a favour, publicly and joyously, for stepping down to allow the Prince appropriate seating. Vanduinth accepts this, though he is clearly begrudged.

Talk resumes. Sir Madoc, Prince of Logres, is apparently the Baron of Woodhouse now, a castle under construction in Salisbury; he will be spending much more time here. He slurs a little, clearly enjoying his indulgence. While lamenting the displeasure of having to be so far from court, he almost spills his wine on another guest; Vandagild quickly, subtly, motions to a servant from across the table, who tilts the stricken vessel upward a touch to rescue the situation. Madoc, perturbed at the intervention of a peasant, berates the man a little; Vandagild offers a grateful but apologetic look to soothe. Later he thanks the servant personally.

While clearly loosened by drink and less polite than many, Vandagild takes the Prince’s intrusion as a blessing and a source of joy. He joins with and Sir Jarren, and they discuss their recent battles. Sir Jarren, a proud man, speaks little of being saved by Vandagild’s unit, but they talk of their wounds and recovery. Jarren is clearly uncomfortable, perhaps troubled by the appearance of defeat, but Vandagild handles it with dignity. Jarren briefly inquires as to how this land came into his possession; Vandagild begins to explains his father’s journey and death, but Jarren tires quickly of the story. Nonetheless, he is happy Vandagild is around; it’s good to have valiant knights by one’s side.

_____ A Man Who Wants To Stab The Prince _____

Later, Sir Vandar, Vandagild’s giant beauty of a cousin, claims some time: The insult to Sir Vanduinth, Vandar passionately explains, is too great! The man is family, and he saved your life; to let this Prince walk in and depose him from the high table is offensive, and demands recompense! Vandagild tries earnestly to calm his cousin, but the towering man will not be dissuaded; he wants to Duel Prince Madoc! Vandagild, while maintaining as much modest and decorum as possible, denies the event; he will not have royal blood spilled in his hall, on the first feast of his vassalage, before his Earl and Lord. Besides; the Prince’s presence here is a blessing for the family, not a curse! Though Vandagild is sympathetic, the two do not agree; Vandar is famous for loving his family, and for Honor, Honesty, and Valor; the combination brings him to boil at the circumstance. He is upset, but yet does not stab the Prince. Vandagild breathes a heavy sigh of relief, but watches his good cousin through the evening.

While the night draws close to an end: Sir Nidan, a neighbouring Knight from the Manor of Winterbourne Dauntsey, wishes to discuss banditry with the new Lord; Nidan knew Sir Vandevig, but was unable to come to satisfactory terms dealing with a local bandit problem. He pushes Vandagild for the same, but the problem is complex, and the man himself confusing. Time is planned to address the matter more properly, but this leaves the man grumbling as he walks away.

_____ A Princely Promise _____

Sir Madoc, quite drunk, sits heavily beside Vandagild; his clothes a little loose, his hair tousled. He saw what happened with Vandar. He reminds Vandagild of their friendship, and tells him not to fuck with him; he is a Prince and he has little room for such things. Vandagild reassures the man that he plays no games. The Prince sighs, and nods. He is grateful for how it was handled; he has no fear of fighting Sir Vandar, but he is grateful nonetheless. The Prince demands broader attention, and raises a toast the Vandagild! More quietly, he tells Vandagild that he will be Sarum often; he asks for a promise for support in Court, should he need it. Vandagild understands the Prince’s firm need for loyalty and the complexity of his position, and gives the promise.

The night ends; Guests retire to their chambers/hallways/floor, servants sneak among them, tidying and assisting. Vandagild and Catrin, having no room of their own, find a quiet place in the halls to enjoy one another’s embrace.

Prince Madoc stumbles out with Sir Jarren in tow, likely retiring to a ditch somewhere.

Image 1: Banquet hosted by the Bishop of Normandy, from the Bayeux Tapestry © The Art Archive / Alamy Stock Photo

Image 2: Sleep in the barn. Antonio Mele, 2012.  Painting, Oil on Canvas

King Arthur Pendragon 5.2

The Heirs of Britain - Game Four

The Heirs of Britain

Session 4: 480, A Battle for the Fate of Salisbury

The armies are arrayed, and the morning mist starts to clear. Already, wily ravens begin to circle, hungrily surveying the field…

Our horses whinny, men check their buckles and equipment, where others haphazardly shout their disdain for the Saxon men before us; the nerves and excitement build. Sir Vandagild idly reaches for the medallion at his breast: He recalls his Grandfather’s battles against the Huns, and the stories of his youth: Prudence in the open field; He recalls his Father’s advice: Trust your Lord, trust the men around you. He nods silently to himself, with resolve. We note that High King Aurelius Pendragon has distributed many of his responsibilities among his senior commanders. We catch sight of him, and he looks afflicted and unwell. He rides still with the army, apparently unwilling to sit aside while men die for him. Nonetheless, his condition is disconcerting for some.

After a tense wait, flags and horns are employed, the voices of Britain’s commanders pierce the ambience; all around us, we hear the rumble of hooves and the clatter of arms and armour.

Sir Amig calls the charge! Our eschille lurches as one, the earth churning instantly to tousled loam, showering us all with clods and damp. Wind roars past our ears, the cacophony of heavy cavalry overwhelming. The Saxons before us swirl, the composition before us changing… a series of whipping movements – Javelins afly! The Saxon militia missiles have little effect; our shields and armour hold them out, and our charge is implacable! They are too slow to reorganise through their own infantry… A screaming, churning clash as Salisbury lances plow deadly channels into Saxon chests; Sir Vandagild and Sir Rowan strike down their foes with mighty blows, and Elvorix renders a foul wound on his! The charge is successful; screams of horses and men mingled with clatters and furious cries!

The battle rages, and soon the success of our manoeuvre brings us into a sturdier melee, embroiled against their infantry: Swords and spears at hand, each knight fights well for God and Lord, cutting efficiently through the burly axemen! Sir Elvorix, surrounded by his hated foe, roars in rage his abhorrence for the Saxon menace! Sir Vandagild is more prudent, his Grandfather’s war-stories guiding him to more deliberate violence, thrusting his blade where opportunities present themselves. Sir Rowan’s swordsmanship is very fine; he shatters an enemy axe with a well-time parry and kills his man cleanly!

Our eschille remains in order; moving deeper into the enemy formation, the hooves of our tremendous chargers crushing Saxon flesh deeper into the ever-muddier fields. Alas, the Saxons are numerous, and the hordes replenish before us! Sir Amig, emboldened by our successes, barks orders and driving the unit forward. In response, Saxon Greatspearmen are pushed to reinforce, their long weapons well designed to counter the mass and impetus of our heavy-cavalry! 

__________

Elvorix and Vandagild call on their Loyalty to their Lord to inspire them to overcome this new threat, keen to prove themselves in their first true battle as Knights and establish their reputation as reliable fighting men! All three protagonistic knights continue their melee, Sir Elvorix leading his steed deeply into the enemy and striking downward! These tougher, better armed foe provide stiffer resistance, their ranging, powerful thrusts mitigating our impassioned assault. Nonetheless, we wound many Saxons and soon force them back, continuing to gain advantage over the invaders. 

To our flank, Sir Amig spots our mentor Sir Elad sorely beset by a fell foe: Chain-clad Saxons with great axes; their equipment impresses! As the the spearmen fall back a gap opens, and with it an opportunity to flank these elite Saxons and render aid to our fellows! We wheel, bring our mounts closer, and charge! 

The fighting is fierce, and the foe skilled. Sir Rowan takes an heavy axe blow in the melee, but holds firm and valorous; the other Saxon’s struggle with our skill and height, but their iron armour absorbs the worst of the damage. Nonetheless, pincered between Amig and Elad, the sturdy warriors fall back in orderly fashion, moving to aid but not in full route. A disciplined enemy! 

__________

Unfortunately, many of our forces are wounded in the fighting; Some Knights are forced to regain their mounts, and others must quit the field entirely. The worst will not see another sunrise, their noble blood spilled wide by the terrible Saxon arms. Sir Amig orders a disengagement to regroup, which we execute successfully. In the rear, we assess our situation: Sir Myles has been wounded in the fighting, but he persists. First aid is applied to the wounded, and Sir Vandagild inspires the troops and Amig with his strong words - our first assault was a great success, the enemy are weakened! Refreshed, and once more able to hit the enemy at gallop, our next charge will surely lay open their lines, and we can strike down the enemy King!

Reorganised and refreshed, our unit re-engages: Sir Amig sends us to the fiercest fighting, keen to break the enemy morale! He sees a unit of furious savages, their rhythmic chants of "Wo-tan! Wo-tan!" punctuating their prowess in battle. The violence and discipline of their attack is rendering many Britons sore and low! The mounts spur…. And yet, as we charge, a silence dulls the battlefield, as if by magic. Time seems to slow, and those sharp enough spot a single star shoot across the sky, to hold and hover above us in the great heavens. A pause; hooves silently power us onward... A powerful voice pierces the void: "The King is dead!" We glance inward - the great Pendragon standard wavers and falls! Tragedy! 

__________

Sir Amig is stunned – our manoeuvre is at risk, and we look for direction: The Knights implore him to make a decision! Retreat? Charge the Wotan Saxons? Retrieve the banner? We call to him, the horses anxious with their riders… Vandagild yells at him to lead the charge…. He blinks, shakes, and recovers! And with the recovery, newfound strength in his gravelly voice: “Chaaaaaaaarge!”

We do! Rowan and Vandagild drive their lances deep into the chests of these ungodly fanatics, driving them into the ground dead or dying. Sir Elvorix catches a heavy axe blow on his shield, his skilful defence maintaining his steed and health. Sir Vandagild has snapped his lance through the chest of his target, and whips his sword from its scabbard. The Wotan assault falters! Surveying the scene, Sir Elvorix sees that we've come to the aid of Baron Duach and his son, the renowned young swordsman Sir Jarren. The latter is battered and bloody, but alive! With a bloodied hand, the Baron waves his gratitude.

While Vandagild clumsily, desperately surveys the battlefield for the fallen banner, Rowan and Elvorix see a surge of our reserves; Duke Gorlois is at their head, laying waste to the Saxons around him. The great Pendragon banner is in his other hand! He holds himself tall and strong, no longer hunched, and wields his sword like a man possessed! Driven by God and Passion, he looks a man a score years younger than the day before! Across the front line, the Saxons waver, but not the fanatical Wotan Warriors before us. We press the melee, inspired by our love for Aurelius and the great charge of Gorlois! Though the foe are skilled, we time our attacks, and take advantage of the rhythmic fighting of these brutal Saxons. Several of the powerful foe are slashed open and finally defeated, their scarlet torrents mixing with the persisting chants of "Wotan" in the air!

With the defeat of this elite unit; there is but a moment of still: In it, we see that chance has brought The Duke Gorlois nearby. With recognition and pride, he looks at Elvorix and Vandagild in the battle. His horse rears gloriously: He points yonder "C'mon boys! Show me what you're made of. Get. That. Banner!" We follow the line of his blade - Elite, professional spear-warriors surround the enemy standard, nearby with a mounted Thegn leading them!

With glorious victory on the horizon, we assault the banner position: Sir Elvorix picks his target early, and drives a lance into the enemy Thegn, taking him through the face and knocking him from his horse with the violent thrust, unconscious and the best part of dead! Rowan too spears an enemy, cleaving the lance-blade through his armour, ribs, and flesh! Sir Vandagild, heedless of his grandfather’s prudence but yet driven to reckless glory by Gorlois’ words, valorously leads his horse into the dense formation, striking at both a spearman and the Saxon banner-bearer! Vandagild's precise blow brings the bannerman down, hacking through the man’s throat! Yet as the enemy banner falls, Vandagild cannot shift his attention and blade quick enough: The mighty spearman drives his lance deep into Vandagild's body, knocking aside his shield, and punching out his back! Vandagild, transfixed, is lifted from his horse, which surges elsewhere, and the gravely wounded man slams hard into the ground, a great wound leaking red into the churned earth! He is unconscious!

Nearby, his Uncle Sir Vanduinth sees Vandagild fall, roars in despair, and charges the spearmen! He and the remaining Knights of the eschille unfoot and brutalise Vandagild's undoer and his companions, trampling the Saxon banner into the dirt and routing the Saxon army for good!

A moment to observe the results: Gorlois' charge has cut the enemy army in half, and driven many to their death and capture! The enemy King, unfortunately, escapes the battlefield... Nonetheless: Victory! His friends and family rush to his side once the moment presents; Vandagild yet breathes; though ragged and rapid, and is rescued. 

__________

In the aftermath the numbers are tallied; The King is dead. Duke Ventrius is dead. The Baron of Wynchbank is dead. Many counts and knights are sore and wounded. The battlefield is littered with moaning, wailing and screaming men; Horses amble aimlessly, parties of the able clear the wounded with a merciful thrust or a makeshift stretcher. Their passage scatters the bickering murders, the cunning black birds dancing from their way, ambling to tear loose morsels from other unfortunate bodies, cawing joyously in mockery or gratitude… The toll is terrible. And yet the elation is far greater. A celebratory feast is set to occur! The King and some of his finest warriors are interred at the Sacred Stones. 

Shortly afterward, Uther returns, victorious over the Irish! There is some chatter among the courts about the battles; much praise is due to Gorlois, but some courtiers and knights dissent. Uther is quickly crowned King of Logres!

In London, Uther holds a great feast for his electors, but is not elected High King of Britain! He received less than a third of the vote... Controversy! He is, of course, still King of Logres, but will not be granted dominion over the surrounding Petty Kingdoms such as Summerland, Bedegraine, or Cumbria. The new king is evidently unpopular, despite his talent for military leadership. Regardless, Uther adopts the distinguished surname Pendragon. The young knights are left to wonder about the complexity and implications of this political development…

__________

Sir Vandagild, thanks to talented chirurgeons and his famous resilience, will survive; the broad, penetrating wound would have proven fatal to most men, even those of tough Salisbury stock.  He misses much of the previous events and takes the better of two months to recover, though he is weakened by the great wound. He falls in and out of consciousness for weeks; when he can speak and his faculties properly return, he learns that his Father, Sir Vandevig, was slain in the assault the brought a terrible end to the High King. He is distraught, his grief and the pain of his recovery intermingle; it is a terrible time for him. Some modest compensation follows: He is now Lord of Winterborne Gunner, and three of his cousins are knighted that year: Sir Baldevig on his mother’s side, and the twins Sir Vandar and Vandred, a pair of enormous, handsome young men.

At court, Sir Amig praises each us before Earl Roderick and the other lords, for our valour and support during the battle. Duke Gorlois has evidently taken notice of us also, and he too praises us! Roderick notices the noticing, we hope for the better.

Later that year, during Christmas Feast, Sir Vandagild speaks with Roderick and Gorlois about the battle, and lack of High King - Britain is no longer united! Have we still the strength to drive the Saxons from our lands? Can Uther secure alliances to bring the men of Britain together once more? The discussion reveals little; the two men are diplomatic in their response. For his part, Earl Roderick is glad Vandagild's promises of loyalty were more than smoke. We hear also that Baron Duach has promised us a Favour for our efforts in saving he and his son, Sir Jarren, from the Wotan men. In recognition of our efforts, Sir Roderick sends us once more to Sir Godifer. We will join his entourage destined for Sir Adaris; the Earl wishes for our judgement on his daughter, Lady Rosalyn, as a prospective match. We thank the Earl, and quietly presume he cannot spare his finer knights, as many were lost in Salisbury. 

__________

Image: Birney Lettick, December 1962 National Geographic

The Heirs of Britain - Game Three

The Heirs of Britain

Session 3: Early Summer, 480

Lo! Saxons are attacking Salisbury! Our three young warriors, hastily awakened from their first slumber as Knights, hurriedly arm and rush through the halls of London. Alas, the Roman Sir Elvorix still suffers from his evening exercise, wherein he defended his honour with blade and shield; several wounds linger! Nevertheless we are sent on horse, ahead of the Count Roderick (who has remaining business organising his command) to liaise with the High King Aurelius and the famous Duke Gorlois, who ride west as we speak!

The weather permits swift travel, and we are at the High King’s encampment the next day. We are sent to wait outside the tent by the Cymric guardsmen to receive our orders. We catch wind of earnest discussion within; and yet, and ill omen: Someone in the High King's tent is sick. All within are key to our leadership on the battlefield. Furthermore, Sir Iwan listens keenly and shares an overheard topic: The High King demands that Sir Ventrius, the Duke of “Saxon Shore” (the easternmost Duchy of our Kingdom) ride with us in Salisbury. The man was otherwise destined to ride with Prince Uther to do battle against the Irish who also raid the Kingdom’s North. At the mention of those men from the east of our Kingdom, who did cause much strife at the feast, we are uneasy.

We do not see the High King. Instead, his men send us farther west, riding hard to to see Duke Gorlois at Castle DuPlain: The easternmost fortress of the county of Salisbury. Sir Elvorix in particular shows enthusiasm; he speaks highly of the Duke and believes greatly in his leadership. Sir Vandagild’s father sailed with the man from Aquitaine under the High King, and Vandagild has heard many stories of his valour, leadership and character. After a few hours, we lays eyes on the castle, which has new banners hung aloft: Elvorix recognises the heraldry – Gorlois! We approach, navigating the guards and gates, and meet a hardy knight, middle aged, in the courtyard. This is Sir Amig, castellan of DuPlain Castle. He greets and welcomes us to his land. The courtyard and surrounds are full, and busy: War preparation, tents and the like, courtiers and pages and knights alike all prepare for the muster here.

A Gruff Knight greets us, surly and weathered: Sir Brastias! A famous knight, the captain of Duke Gorlois’ guard, renowned for his unwavering loyalty, keen perception, and wonderful swordsmanship. He explains to us, voice like bored gravel, the situation. He once again introduces us to Sir Amig, and to a hunched, deeply scowling knight with an unusual but pleasant visage. The man moves tightly, clearly carries old injuries, and has seen many winters. But he is noble, for it is the Duke Gorlois himself! He approaches and without ceremony bids us scout farther west, nearer Sarum Rock, for the Saxon Army. He has no idea where it is, admitting openly, and wishes otherwise. Other scouts are at work but, as the newest knights in Britain, we are perfectly expendable and thus ideal for the role. As afterthought, Vandagild introduces himself as Sir Vandevig's son; Gorlois recognises him pleasantly, and wishes the younger grows to be like the elder. He bids us be careful: We are to scout, not defeat the Saxon army. We ride west.

Vandagild, thinking the bands of Saxons ought be much simpler to track than a furtive woodland doe, tracks the army; to his hunter's eye they are but thousands of woodland beasts, albeit armed, more savage, and less civilised. As we approach over rolling hills, evidence of their work is thick on the horizon. They are everywhere, bringing ruin to manors aplenty, and Salisbury burns in the south. After some manoeuvring, we see evidence that they are camped North of Sarum, with many vessels rowing up our fertile rivers, and footmen raids besides.

We ride onward, confident of our steeds and the Saxon’s famous incompetence at horse. As we near, the density of enemy patrols increases; many return laden with loot. We are careful, however, and soon isolate a small Saxon patrol. We have seen this type of warrior as squires, though this will be our first chance to tear blood from them: Heorthgeneats! Seizing our opportunity to gather captives and intelligence, we take lance to hand and spur our mounts to charge! Hooves thundering, a rumble of impending doom for our hapless targets. Shouts of rage and earnest announce the crash and clatter of lances impacting, shattering asunder, burying in foreign flesh! Vandagild feints low and thus lances his target through the face; the man, already dead, is borne several yards transfixed on the weapon, dragged helplessly through the field until he tumbles cruelly free like a discarded doll. The other two knights hit home with lances, but the Saxon armour proves worth! They draw swords, Iwan and Elvorix laying stunning, hacking blows on the dismounted foe, rendering the outmatched Saxons unconscious! A few moments to consolidate the victory and we successfully exfiltrate the area with our captives, avoiding reprisal. The bound, wounded men are yielded to Gorlois at DuPlain, and we report our findings. We are admonished for our reckless foray, though the captives are appreciated. Good Count Roderick and the Salisbury muster have arrived, and we are keen to join them. 

Rejoining our Lord, we immediately volunteer for counter-raids; our family lands are threatened, and we have eager wishes to stem the Saxon advance! Some telling skirmish might have them withdraw their men into larger, less mobile formations, and thus save some manors from their plunder and torches. It is agreed: The next morning Sir Amig of DuPlain will lead a skirmish; we will join.

We ride west, confident in our victory and bolstered by the famous leadership of Sir Amig, a banneret with vast experience at command. Alas! Our approach is poor, and we stumble into a hopeless mess; we try to gain advantage on a moderate Saxon force, but soon find that Saxons instead surround us! We must break free with our skill at arms; Amig calls the charge into Heorthgeneats! The battle is fierce and urgent, and we are outnumbered: The initial skirmishing leaves Sir Iwan unhorsed after an axe sinks deeply into his ribs; aided by his fellows, he is forced to withdraw wounded, regaining and spurring his steed through a gap in the foe. Sir Elvorix is struck but not conquered in his own clash, clipped by a solid Saxon blow, but not severely! Sir Vandagild again strikes home with his lance, inflicting a cruel wound; truly the blessings of the Arian Bishop guide his arm, and God wishes him health this day! Nevertheless, we lose many men. It is unthinkable, yet Amig signals a withdrawal. Many Knights lay tardy in the British fields.

We return to DuPlain, dejected. Chirurgery and first aid are applied, and we share stories and recover as best we can. The skirmishing continues for a week, forcing the Saxons to offer battle and affording the High King Aurelius time to complete the urgent muster. As Duke Ventrius of “Saxon Shore” had already mustered for Ireland, he was withdrawn from Uther's army and was among the first to join the must in Salisbury, significantly speeding the process. Sir Elvorix notices through the week that Duke Gorlois and the High King are spending a lot of time together. Duke Ulfius is disgruntled in Gorlois' presence, and is temperamentally short at these times. We suspect politics and favouritism are afoot. Sir Iwan, still poorly for his Saxon encounter, is stoic and brave; he heals as best and can, and will ride with us despite his rent side. Meanwhile, Vandagild searches for his family, many of whom will fight here. He asks his father for guidance: The mighty Sir Vandevig raises his son’s confidence with some firm and encouraging advice. “Trust your lord, trust the knights around you”. Simple words, but well and calmly delivered.

Duke Ventrius will command the Vanguard. Duke Ulfius and Count Roderick take the centre. Duke Gorlois takes the Reserves. 

We will ride under Amig, on the edge of the centre; none of us can figure why we do not ride with Roderick, our Lord. Sir Iwan hides his wound, though it still troubles him; Elvorix too suffers, but his is the lesser affliction. Before the battle, Vandagild is merciful to Amig, bolstering him with powerful words, assuring him that we are proud to ride with him and have faith in his leadership; Sir Elvorix echoes these words. Amig is grateful; we hope it is enough to repair his wounded confidence. Gorlois, sitting tall in his saddle, checks on the wounded men before our battle including Sirs Elvorix and Iwan. He raises spirits; his confidence and command inspire. Alas, Sir Iwan is unfit to fight on the morrow; he has bled enough for Britain for one battle.

The morning comes; the summer sun rises behind us; a mist sits low, ahead, in the fields where many will breathe their last.

Aesc, the King of Kent, forms his army before his foe; they are mostly infantry, though the formidable savages of Saxony are renowned for their size and strength. We do the same. Our many knights, clad in fine mail and astride mighty chargers, are filled with hatred at the sight of the invasive swarm. Our Eschille is in the centre formation, on the leftmost. Vandagild's young uncle, Sir Vanduinth, rides with us, as does The Dashing Sir Myles and Sir Rowan, Iwan's cousin. The dark loam of Salisbury fields will soak red this day…

The Heirs of Britain - Game Two

 The Heirs of Britain

Session 2: Winter 479; Spring 480

Winter 479

Those familiar with the long-haired, Visigothic folk of Gallia Aquitania, know that many of these continental men take after their enlightened King Lancelot I. Such readers will, therefore, have foremost in mind two things: The terrible betrayal of the Aquitanians by Rome and the revengeful sacking of that holy city; and the Aquitanian adeptness for Romance. Thus it was of little surprise to many that, at a Winter feast, the flirtatious Squire Vandagild succumbs to his indulgence and recklessness, and is struck by a passion of lust! Complicit in this endeavour is the daughter of his Lord, The Pictish Huntsman Sir Golistan! Truly such a betrayal of lordship and honor does little good to the young man’s name. Vandagild rapidly admits his error with a passionate and well-delivered speech, but yet declares his love; the couple have grown fond over their shared years in Golistan’s house, and he wishes her hand. Lady Catrin, however, is now pregnant. Vandagild is at Sir Golistan’s mercy.

Golistan, a famously proud, yet prudent man, is familiar with the consequences of excess. He and Vandagild’s father grew close in their many battles under the High King Aurelius, and being both foreigners to Salisbury. Our families have appreciated one another's company during many feasts and celebrations. Vandagild’s mistake has placed this relationship in jeopardy.

Soon while at hunt, Sir Golistan sends Vandagild to check traps some way from the party. Unbeknownst, he is followed: His keen perception espies Golistan approaching, armed. A shield is flung at the foolish squire’s feet. Conversation is unnecessary; a test occurs. Vandagild is the taller man, but Golistan is a veteran of many battles, and famed for his Pictish spearmanship. Men talk of him slaying a Great Boar in a single blow, the head of which is hung with pride above his great table. Vandagild wishes not to join it.

Steel cuts the air, and shields are rent. Vandagild holds his blows at first, but his own flowing blood puts talk of such modesty to rest, and Golistan shows no restraint.  Blood is drawn on both sides, but Vandagild's blade is manoeuvred with spectacular might, for his arm and heart are Impassioned by his Love for Catrin! Golistan loses his feet on two occasions, unbalanced by the strength of the young man’s assault. His passionate swordsmanship proves equal to Golistan's spear, and the latter yields, muddied and sore. Vandagild prostrates himself in apology, which draws him another blow to the face. If he is to marry Lady Catrin, he must be strong. There is little mercy on the battlefield, and Golistan will not have his daughter wed to a meek man, to die on the field and leave her aggrieved. Vandagild swears to fight well for her.

Vandagild is married two weeks later, and there is no bitterness. The nuns declare twins are growing...

It is rumoured that the other Squires had their own events of this winter, but these tales will emerge in good time.

https://www.artstation.com/samsongoetze and https://www.artstation.com/rutkowski

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Spring 480

Roderick issues orders: His finest knights are to ride east to Wynchbank to assess the fitness of that Baron’s Daughter as a wife for the good Earl. Each squires knight is to be among the modest cohort, and thus each squire will attend. Before we leave, Vandagild gifts his two companions with a finely crafted Bear Claw medallion each, paid for with the animal’s pelt, as a token of our camaraderie.

On the road:

Elvorix helps peasants with a broken wagon, not straying so far as to render dishonorable manual labor, and yet building his reputation as a fine man.

Vandagild talks battle with Iwan. Elvorix, overhearing, claims written treatises of Good Roman Strategy, in Latin, are apparently stored in Sarum! As a reading man (uncommon in these lands), Vandagild makes note to partake of them. The Knight Sir Leofmund interjects with some disdain: He declares the benefit of real battle, and suggests we prefer experience over literature. We are humbled.

Iwan spends time practicing with his blade, learning from the senior knights and showing his own skill. He duels Elvorix with wooden swords; Iwan gets the better, though brags little for his success!

At dinner, Wynchbank Manor

The lady (of 13 summers, not yet marriageable, but these things take time) is slightly late, and, to Vandagild’s romantic estimation, dressed less fancifully than our Lord Roderick deserves. Vandagild suspects this is a deliberate show of disrespect or disinterest. While feasting, Iwan attempts flirtation with a serving woman, but nets no gain. His dashing looks impress, but he is squired to Sir Myles, renowned as perhaps the most handsome man in court; competition is fierce. Vandagild, drawing from recent experience, humbly warns him of the risks of imprudence at feasts. Iwan appropriately admonishes Vandagild for his hypocrisy.

The next morning, we are awoken before dawn. News comes with the shock of awakitude: The Marshall Sir Elad, our mentor from Vagon, is coming from Sarum* !? He brings the Squire Madoc with him, who looks particularly proud today. It is important that we are ready to travel with the good Marshall. The reason is kept in shadows.

An interjection: I have been remiss. Madoc has squired with us for our duration in the rank. He was supposed to ride with us to Imber, but was drawn away with no warning and thus omitted from the tale. He is strong and resilient, and famously Energetic, Proud and Temperate. Madoc and Vandagild have shared joyous moments, and both take virtue from vengeance. He is excellent at Lance, and hates Saxons. He is of unknown origin; we presume the favourite of some Widower and thus supported in Knighthood, or perhaps the bastard of some Baron or officer. His appearance at Wynchbank with Sir Elad surprises.

On his arrival, Sir Elad brings news: We are to travel to Londinium! We will be as part of Earl Roderick's entourage, attending the High King's Easter Feast! A glorious occasion and a treat for inglorious squires! We trek, still uncertain for Madoc.

Londinium!

London's walls are dilapidated. Elvorix notes the superiority of Roman stonemasonry and the shame of the current state of these walls. The Squires all hate it here, for different reasons; It is dense, dirty, bereft of forest or game, and awash with politics. And it stinks. We enter the west gate, the wretched pall of skinworks assails every nostril for a mile. As we travel, Vandagild asks the dashing Sir Myles for help buying jewellery for Lady Catrin from the fine cratfsfolk of London; Myles eagerly acquiesces.

We follow Sir Elad to meet the Earl Roderick. Sir Godifer^ and Earl Roderick embrace, affirming their friendship. Sir Roderick then greets Squire Madoc specifically, and before other Knights; a truly unusual honour! A brief conversation, which the deft Iwan overhears: Roderick is excited about an announcement regarding Madoc, though the details are not explained. Roderick then greets the three protagonistic squires, firmly shaking our hands: We have shown quality and reached our twenty first year. As such we are to be Knighted! Glorious!

As we converse, Roderick asks Sir Godifer about Wynchbank: Godifer explains that the Baron apparently has his estate under excellent care, and he's a diligent man. His daughter is respectable, but Godifer speaks with some trepidation about her lack of appropriate opulence. When asked, Vandagild echoes and amplifies Godifer's comments of her outfit, and adds a note of her lateness. Roderick frowns.

That evening: Vandagild romances his lady and offers her his gift: A delicate necklace wrought from fine Silver! She is grateful and speaks kindly. As we carouse, Elvorix strides among the squires, admonishing them for being intemperate with drink. This is an unpopular act. Iwan leaves the party, continuing to hate London while wandering the miserable streets and regretting the stench.

As the Knighthood tradition dictates, we spend the evening in churches, praying to God and resisting Sloth. Each man achieves his goal and succumbs not to sleep in the house of Our Lord, yet we do not share the moment: Elvorix is Roman Christian, Iwan British Christian and Vandagild an Arian Christian#. The latter sits with few others in a smaller chapel and yet appears possessed in his dedication to wakefulness. Unbeknownst to him, an Arian Bishop observes his fervour, whispering prayers and thanks to God for this omen. Auspicious!

We are Knighted before the High King!

The next morning we sit in the High King’s court, a truly magnificent ceremony, attended by the greatest men and women of Logres and Britain. Prince Uther, brother of the High King Aurelius Pendragon, sits at the latter’s right hand. The pageantry and ceremony overwhelm!

We are knighted before the High King himself, a privilege few Knights are granted. We modestly ascribe this to our convenient location among the cohort of Salisbury, for none of us are of particularly worth stock. The proceedings underway, shocking news is soon declared. One Squire remains to be Knighted. Uther himself stands before Madoc, and he declares the young man to be his son! An heir for Uther, and another Noble Prince in the lands of Britain! Madoc, now royalty, utters his Knightly vows among the raucous cheers of Britain’s finest!

At dinner we are seated appropriately as new Knights! Sir Elvorix proudly tells the tale of how he (with a little help) killed the Bear of Imber! Sir Vandagild brings his family together: His wife the Lady Catrin, whose belly swells already, his father and mother, his youngest brother (Vandimund), The Huntsman Sir Golistan, and other members. He orates powerfully and shares with them his joy and gratitude to celebrate such a wonderful occasion in such a glorious place, with these, his finest people.

Iwan spends his time quietly with Sir Myles, enjoying pleasant conversation and flattering attention, developing a strong love for his mentor. 

The High King's Easter Feast!

At the Feast Proper, the new Knights are seated with Roderick's entourage, near the salt. That evening:

Sir Elvorix locates yon fool, some knight from the Saxon Shore, to exploit in some gambling over chess: Elvorix defeats him! The enraged victim, Sir Cedifor, takes his feet and accuses Elvorix of cheating! Elvorix deftly defends himself verbally, but is nonetheless forced to defend himself physically: A duel is declared! They step outside and draw blades; a crowd gathers and wagers made! Space clears, and coifs are donned as the man lock eyes. The two engage, blades slashing and sparking! After a tense and testing moment, Elvorix outmanoeuvres his opponent and brings his sword down on the Easterner's head, knocking him to dust. Elvorix nobly allows his opponent to rise, and is promptly struck in the ribs, before urgently deflecting a series of furious blows with his shield. On the back foot, Elvorix takes a solid blow which cuts through his mail and into his shoulder. The blow is returned, once more knocking the Shoresman to the ground! He doesn't yield, and Elvorix presses his advantage! Blow after blow slams into the man's shield and armour, before Elvorix slides his blade into an opening, pressing down with his weight! Blood flows freely, and Sir Cedifor resentfully yields through gritted teeth. Victorious! The crowd cheer! The young knight returns to the feast, bloodied but glorious. Despite this show, much later another eastern knight (also under Duke Ventrius of the Saxon Shore) challenges his loyalty - Sir Elvorix boldly affirms his passionate glory for his Lord, to the satisfaction of all present! The other man is forced to withdraw in shame.

Meanwhile, Sir Iwan drinks little for his temperance. Nearby nobles ask for his comment on the wine, fearing dissatisfaction or insult – He speaks well, his comments well received and no insult given! Later, a lady (A daughter of a Baron in Saxon Shore, no less!) asks the handsome Sir Iwan to lead the next dance. Iwan does so aptly, a fine time had by all. He spends time speaking with the lady, but his western courtesy matches poorly with her shoreswoman ways, and he stumbles into repeatedly, and awkwardly inquiring about her father’s wealth and lands. She and others are unimpressed. Dejected, Sir Iwan returns to his seat. On the way, he espies Sir Myles' sister (The Lady Eleri) receiving disrespectful words from some lesser knight from Saxon Shore - intolerable! These folk are proving tiresome, and unworthy of their place in the High King’s feast! Iwan confronts him, and the man apologises. Mighty!

Meanwhile, the Arian Bishop who espied Vandagild's tremendous wakefulness and holy possession takes the feast’s attention: He declares to all present that the young knight has been blessed by God, who shines upon him this evening! Vandagild believes this as evidence that he has overcome his recent challenges of lustfulness righteously in the eyes of The Lord. So driven, Vandagild orates skillfully to proclaim the generous hospitality, strength, and success of Aurelius and the Pendragons, who are blessed by Our Lord and driven to glory and prosperity. The Salisbury knights cheer with vigour! Later, he converses with Earl Roderick, declaring his intention to establish himself as a man of loyalty despite his recent missteps. The Earl takes the comments well, but warns that actions speak louder than words. Vandagild later chats with the local huntsmen outside, but is treated poorly by their scurrilous dogs. He courteously manages the situation to little gain. Inglorious hounds!

Vandagild's blessing by the Bishop and subsequent speeches are remembered fondly by the guests, to his credit and glory, his efforts somehow exceeding the excitement of Elvorix's duel and the grace of Iwan's dance!

We retire, each according to their place. The rooms are well furnished, and rest is good.

Alas, once more our morning rise is abrupt: The Monstrous, Treacherous Saxons are attacking Salisbury! All Knights are to take arms and muster at once!..

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*Sarum Rock, residence of the court Earl Roderick of Salisbury.

^ Sir Godifer: Lord of Sir Elvorix. Known for his political savvy and social acumen, and who led our entourage to Wynchbank. He is a close friend of the Earl.

# No association with the evil ideology of the 20^th century.