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Kaboom!
Last Seen:
5/1/2009 8:19 PM
Posts: 625
Visits: 4,599
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After a long time of drooling over the wonderful civ-insipred fiction at this and other forums, I've decided to try my hand at it. To make this story a bit different, i decided to use the totally awesome mod Rhyes and Fall of Civilization http://forums.civfanatics.com/forumdisplay.php?f=204.
I've posted about it before, and it is truly amazing. Basically its a history simulator which means that instead of all the civs starting out at once they start at different times with different start conditions. It also incorporates a ton of new feature too many to list. Check it out, and you won't regret it.
Anyways, this story chronicles the rise of England starting in the Medieval age. France has already arisen as have Spain and the Vikings, but the Roman Empire is still there, just weak.
Finally, I'd like to thank my three main inspirations for this story History Dude over here at 1bc, Hemling over at civfanatics, and Sistul over at civfanatics. You've all written great stories, which really inspired me to do this. Thanks guys.
Now, on with the show!
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"If there is a God, Cardinal Richelieu will have much to answer for. If not, he has done very well" - Pope Urban VIII on Cardinal Richelieu
Voice from the Middle - my blog
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Kaboom!
Last Seen:
5/1/2009 8:19 PM
Posts: 625
Visits: 4,599
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“Just as you have ordered all the people of the isle have gathered here sire. We await your command.”
“It is good. Go tell them that I shall speak with them very soon”
“Aye sire.” The messenger departed, leaving Harold alone on the hill. Rising he walked to the edge and looked down onto the people standing below, his people he realized as they fell silent.. For years, his people had lived barbarically. They had been taken advantage of by everyone; the French, the Romans, the Vikings, even the half-civilized Celts looked down on the people of the isle.
Harold felt a grim smile spread up his lips. They were in for a surprise. Today everything would change.
“People of the isle!” Harold's large voice boomed out across the plain, so that all even the elderly and the deaf could feel the deep vibrations in their very bones.
“For years we have been denied our birthright. This isle is rich in everything we need to live comfortably. Livestock, grain, metals what more could we want? This isle of ours is paradise is it not?” He paused, allowing murmurs of agreement to sweep through the clouds.
“Yes you say. How could you not? Just look around you. But if this is paradise we live in then why do so many of us starve to death each year? Why are there people of the isles laboring in far Rome as slaves? Why can you see the bones on our children's chests? Why? I'll tell you why. Because we are and always have been barbarians.” He spit the word out as a curse, his voice dripping disgust and anger.
“We live in paradise, but we fight amongst ourselves because we are barbarians. The Vikings rule in the north of the isle, and their people do not starve. Their people do not become feed for the wolves. Their people do not kill each other for sport! Yes today we are barbarians. But no more. No more shall a man of the isles pick up a sword against another man of the isles. No more shall a child of the isles starve while another grows fat. No more shall the mother of the isles be forced to wander seeking food and temporary shelter.”
“Today we become more than mere barbarians. Today we shall become a nation one to compete with, aye and best France and Rome. Today we shall become a civilization!” He raised his arms, basking in the shouts from below.
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"If there is a God, Cardinal Richelieu will have much to answer for. If not, he has done very well" - Pope Urban VIII on Cardinal Richelieu
Voice from the Middle - my blog
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Kaboom!
Last Seen:
5/1/2009 8:19 PM
Posts: 625
Visits: 4,599
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A few months later, the plain onto which Harold had given his speech was unrecognizable. Where there were once grassy knolls and meadows there was now a rising city. Walking next to Harold, his friend William was talking animatedly while fussily tiptoeing over the debris from the hastily assembled buildings.
“But Harold, don't you think its somewhat odd to be building a city on top of what was once a Celtic settleme-”
“And naming it after the settlement? No, Londinum was a very long time ago. The name will just help people remember.”
“If you say so...”
A rather corpulent flunky came running up the street, panting from what looked to be his first bout of physical exercise in months.
“This civilization is certainly good for our stomachs” William whispered to Harold.
“It's better than raw bone” Harold whispered back, serious as always.
“Sir, the emissary from Scandinavia has arrived at the Palace.” the flunky said, clenching his sweat drenched tunic.
“Well we had better go meet him then eh William? Lets go.”
The Viking guffawed, his blond hair shaking wildly.
“Come now, this is really too much. You've carried the deception quite far, but really who are you. French settlers? Roman colonists? Perhaps even a few Spanish explorers? Whoever you are, we can strike a deal if you abandon this little charade.”
“Do we look Spanish to you? You've seen us before. Don't we look like those slaves – sorry 'serfs' you work to death in your building projects?” Harold replied coolly.
“Very well, very well.... Now what did you call ourselves again?”
“England. We are English”
“Why would you choose such a silly name?”
“Well, this land is ours, and we are the Anglii peoples, so Anglii land.”
“Surely this entire land cannot be yours. Its quite big after all. What of Inverness in the north?”
“No, that will be ours too. As I said, this is our land. “
The emissary's face reddened, and for a second Harold thought he would get to see the famous Viking fury for the first time in decades. Instead, he managed to marshal his more diplomatic instincts and take control of himself.
“You are aware that Inverness is a Viking city, and that we shall defend it if need be.”
“Of course. We're going to take Inverness though, and there is nothing you can do about it. I've been to Scandinavia. Your 'army' barely merits the name. Look around you. Notice the soldiers? We could take Inverness without breaking a sweat. The ships that escorted you here are merely a part of a great navy. Besides; do you really think that your English troops will stand to fight their bretheren? England shall be ours and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Once again the ambassador's face reddened. Standing up he spat on the table and walked out without a word.
“I didn't know you'd been to Scandinavia” William remarked.
“Oh yes I have” Harold replied, grimacing as the past came flooding back to him....
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"If there is a God, Cardinal Richelieu will have much to answer for. If not, he has done very well" - Pope Urban VIII on Cardinal Richelieu
Voice from the Middle - my blog
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Kaboom!
Last Seen:
5/1/2009 8:19 PM
Posts: 625
Visits: 4,599
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It was spring when they came. It was always spring. The adults knew this and warned the children to stay inland, but the children being children always found their way to the beach.
Harold, ever observant even as a child was the first to notice the dragon ships. His twelve-year old eyes widened in wonder as he saw the elaborately carved bow, rising out of the water like a beast. Dropping the rocks he was playing with he ran to the edge of the beach, calling the other children. They stared in wonder as a rowboat descended from the ship and five large heavy men came ashore tossing their coiled hair to get the water out.
The leader immediately gravitated towards Harold, perhaps noticing the way the other children seemed to cluster around him. “Come here boy” he said in heavily accented English. Obedient as his mother had taught him, Harold walked up to the man and looked up curiously at his massive beard. Reaching down the man felt Harold's arms squeezing them to find the muscles. Turning to his comrades, he pointed to Harold and to several other children, and then said something in the Viking tongue.
Another Viking lumbered over to Harold, his heavily scarred body looming over Harold like a giant. He smiled at Harold, exposing yellow crooked teeth and held out his hand in a gesture of friendship – and then promptly drew it back and slammed Harold on the back of the head. As he faded into unconsciousness he saw the children around him scatter as laughing Viking caught them like fish in a net.
He awoke to the sound of drunken laughter, and as he opened his eyes groggily he could see that he was in a wooden room of sorts. One Viking noticed that he had awoken, and leered at him his breath numbing Harold's nose.
“Awoken have ye?” the man cackled, his voice full of malice. “Well best put ye to work now eh? We kin always use another rower.” Reaching out he grabbed Harold's arm and pulled him to his feet, dragging him out of the room and onto the deck where the bright light and strong sea air assaulted his senses. Shoved into a bench and given an oar he did his best to imitate the motions of those next to him, though his young body often failed.
He tasted the lash that day, and when night finally came he was thrown into a room packed with other slaves, all of them sweaty and tired. The room stank of urine and feces, and was filled with the sound of wailing and despair. Overcome with fatigue he collapsed on the ground and fell asleep.
A few days later they arrived in port, and were hustled out onto the dock in chains Harold was pushed into a bullock cart where once more he smelt the by now familiar smells of too many slaves in too little space. Even the motion of the cart was similar to the rolling of the longship.
After a few hours in the cart they stepped out onto an open grassy plain, one that reminded Harold achingly of his homeland. Armed Viking bullyboys lined them up and paced in front of them to make sure that they stayed in order, growling at any slave who looked even remotely surly.
Then, another cart came rumbling up and a portly man came out. Harold gasped. Even the chief in his village hadn't been half the size of this man. He must be rich indeed! Waddling in front of the slaves the man cleared his throat.
“As you can see this land looks like your pathetic homeland. Like your homeland is uncultivated and raw. Unlike your homeland it won't be for much longer. That's why you are here working for me, and not the other way around. You are barbarians. We are civilized. Remember that as you die.” He signaled to the guards, who began to sort out the slaves.
“All right boys you've heard the fancy speech, now its time to start the real work” one of them said with an evil grin on his face. Sighing, but knowing better than to complain Harold went to work
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"If there is a God, Cardinal Richelieu will have much to answer for. If not, he has done very well" - Pope Urban VIII on Cardinal Richelieu
Voice from the Middle - my blog
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