The Norwegian Kingdom
King of Norway: Haakon Haraldsson
High Jarl of Bangor: Halfdan Haraldsson
Jarl of the Stranded: Eric Gormsson
Capitol: Tønsberg
Military: 7,500 Basic Infantry, 1,000 Light Infantry, 100 Heavy Infantry
Navy: 50 Knarrs, 13 Galleys
Population: 500,000
Technology Level: B
Cities: 3 (Including Capitol)
AP: 13
Military at Norway: 5,500 Basic Infantry, 1,000 Light Infantry, 100 Heavy Infantry
Navy at Norway: 45 Knarrs, 11 Galleys
Military at Bangor: 2,000 Basic Infantry
Navy at Bangor: 5 Knarrs, 2 Galleys
The First of the Vikings
Another throne broken, as if I needed another reason to venture outside, King Haakon Haraldsson whined, drumming his fingers atop the hilt of his blade. The hall he stood in was cold, empty, and devoid of light, just the comforts he wanted on a winter’s evening. The King looked back to the splintered chair behind him, shaking his head as he trudged over to his former seat. Better to take your gifts than accept them. Nobody poisons the wine they intend to drink. His large head craned to the rows of windows behind him, watching the snow from outside slowly drifting in. The fisherman should be back to shore by now, as should the woodcutters. Even that thought alone bored him more than the council he had to hold on occasion. He won the loyalty of the petty kingdoms and tribes through destroying them in the field of battle, not listening to their petty qualms and talks of weather patterns.
An empty chest sat against the wall opposite of the King, a large hide shield beside it. Haakon strode over to the chest, running his hands over the gold and polish that had made this foreign beauty. Unfortunately, the treasure he had won had long been spent in an effort to bribe the loyalty of a few stubborn tribes. I’ve grown as soft as those I once slaughtered and plundered. It had only been a year since he had last led a raid, but unification of Norway had cut his time and patience to ribbons.
Suddenly came a knock at the door. Without waiting for a response, a short, dark-haired man walked in. He wore a brown cloak, but the hints of armor underneath were clear to the Viking’s keen eyes. Haakon couldn’t recognize him but for the axe and shield at his side. The King raised his brows at the man, his own hand inching closer towards the sword at his side. The intruder began coughing violently, reaching a hand into his cloak and procuring a small flask. Taking a long swig, the newcomer drooped his torso over and began panting heavily. After a good minute of heavy breathing the man’s head swiveled up, his blue eyes meeting those of the King.
“Call the jarls, this is a council you will want to convoke.”
The Disgraced Jarl
It had only been a month since the murder of his cousin, but Jarl Eric Gormsson could not pull the knife from his back. Even calling himself jarl felt like a betrayal, as to hide the truth from his own mind would only weaken him. Not as if he could stave off as much as a bandit attack now, for only a few dozen families still recognized him as their liege. They were far braver than he, choosing to follow him up the dangerous coast, to land where rebuilding could begin. The cold wind bit at his exposed skin as he plodded through sand and snow. The women and children feared for his health, but Jarl Eric had forsaken any spare clothing as to give it to those even weaker than him. It was painful, but penance for his cowardice in the face of death.
Perhaps Forseti would look upon him favorably after his atonement was over.
A Stranded Brother
Word came from the homeland infrequently, if at all. Halfdan Haraldsson tapped his foot impatiently as he sat atop a large stone throne. It was beautiful, but the greatest discomfort he had ever known, bar whenever he was out at sea. The ceiling and front wall of the keep, not yet complete, allowed him a view of the beauty of the Welsh landscape. Rolling hills all around, mountains further away, forests covering what had not been cleared, Halfdan was content to sit here for months, hopefully years. The evening air nipped at him, but he enjoyed the cloudy weather that covered the setting sun. At least it wasn’t snowing, and fires would start to appear around the town soon, another sight Halfdan enjoyed.
Halfdan was far less physically imposing than the rest of his brothers, cousins even. He was short in stature, and thinner in frame. He hated the ocean, except to look upon it, and was no warrior at heart. To be fair, he was only chosen to advise the old Jarl Olaf, for he would have made a poor hostage. However, he was sharp of mind, and when Jarl Olaf laid on his deathbed from a fever his final command was to proclaim Halfdan as his successor. The ships had not even reached shore yet, but Halfdan found himself commanding grizzled veterans, bloodthirsty young men, wives complaining something or another, and children that poked at his leg and gazed up at him wide-eyed. Because he had earned no prestige in battle, many of the warriors and commonfolk within the fleet seemed wary of Halfdan’s rule. Though he had no treasure of wars, the King’s brother did have a silver tongue, and talk of a change in leadership died before it had truly began. Even then, it was a relief when the expedition had reached shore, where they were greeted by the invasion fleet that had taken a good part of the mainland before them.
Now in command of thousands of soldiers and commonfolk, alongside his own council, Halfdan set to work trying to find out what King Haakon’s intentions were. The jarls and chieftains who sat on the council called for expansion, capitalizing on the gains that many of them had made not long before. However, despite his lack of information regarding the local kingdoms, Halfdan figured they would not take another invasion as lightly as they had before. If his brother was too busy to send orders then Halfdan was under no obligation to follow presumed wishes. He would play his game, the one he knew he could win.
Summary:
- King Haakon prepares for war, raising a unit of medium infantry (1,000) and a unit of basic infantry (1,000). (6 AP)
- King Haakon has two levy units raised around Copenhagen (2,000.) (2 AP)
- King Haakon sends a delegation to the Saxon tribe, offering trade rights, and a non-aggression pact. (Mod)
- King Haakon begins the construction of a Galley. (3 AP)
- High Jarl Halfdan sends a delegation to the Kingdom of Wales, offering trade rights and a non-aggression pact.
- High Jarl Halfdan sends a delegation to the Highland Confederacy, offering trade rights, a non-aggression pact, and begins discussions involving the transfer of the Orkney Islands to the Confederacy. (Mod)
- High Jarl Halfdan raises one basic infantry unit (1,000). (2 AP)-
- 2/20 RP in T1 Heavy Infantry