Lift not my head from bloody ground, Bear not my body home,
For all the earth is Roman earth And I shall die in Rome.
Sail strange seas and plunder strange lands. Do battle on foreign shores for the kings of the east. Forge your legend in iron and blood upon the old east road, in that land the stories call Byzantium. Perhaps you will be a ring-giver, and the sons of your sons will raise a stone in your memory. Perhaps you will fall in the east to a saracen sword, and your name will be lost to time and memory in the shadow of Rome. Perhaps you will live forever in the sagas, bathed in the glory of the old gods and the new.
The Northmen came about our land A Christless chivalry:
Who knew not of the arch or pen,
Great, beautiful half-witted men From the sunrise and the sea.
Scandinavia, 1009 AD
It is the final century of the Viking Age.
For over three hundred years, the northern seas have been plagued by tall men with scarlet beards like blood, a race of reavers and plunderers and warriors out of the north, who make their fortune in death and it's dealing, who go to battle bare-chested and glory-bound. They are the Danes of legend, the Vikings, and the whole world shakes to see their sails upon the sea.
But the world is changing. For lifetimes, the Scandinavians have raided the shores of Europe and returned home with ships full of strange gold, and it has changed them as surely as they have changed the lands they plundered. Their chiefs have grown fat and powerful on the wealth of the westerners, and have thrown up mighty kingdoms in the North. The Danes, who once knew no kings, now know many, mighty ring-givers who rule from the rivers to the sea, and call young men to die in their armies instead of overseas. And slowly but surely, the faith of the god of the nails from Rome crawls across Scandinavia, laying low the old gods of barrow and bone.
Men persist in the old ways, but they are a dying breed. The great longships come back now battle-scarred and light on gold. The halls once bright with plunder are empty and still. Mighty kings rule in the west now, who answer blood with blood, and pay the Danegeld with steel instead of silver. The days of the sagas and the great heroes seem distant and far-off, and there is less and less glory to be won overseas, and less and less to go around. These are the final days of the Vikings, and in such times, men grow desperate -- desperate enough to seek their fortunes in lands their fathers never dared, in the wide and flat east, where the plains and rivers go on forever and the heathens are beyond count.
Some sail east, and few return. But those handful who do come bearing riches such as are not known in the lands of the Danes, wearing strange armor and speaking foreign tongues. They claim there lies a mighty city to the east, a city of wonder and terror ruled by a king like no other, who has for his bodyguard a great army of Northmen. They are his most prized warriors, these Norse, and are at the forefront of every battle, for which he pays them a great bounty and showers them with wealth and titles. The Varangians (for so they are called by the Griksr, the men of the east) claim their travels and battles in service of the Eastern Emperor have taken them to distant places beyond any imagining of the skalds: lands where the sun always shines, ruled by kingdoms of tall men with skin as black as pitch. Here, they are warriors still. Here, they may earn their legend with axe and sword as their fathers did in the days of old, and more besides. Here, there is glory left to be won.
Few heeded these tall tales in days gone by, when wealth was easy to come by and the soft western kings paid ransom to the Danes for fear of their strength. But there are great lords in Frankia and Ængland now, men skilled in war who wait upon the shore with swords. The age of the Vikings wanes, and more and more young Danes cast their sights east instead of west, and sail down the rivers to seek this mythical east and win such glory as their fathers never dreamed. It said of these men that they have passed down the old east road, the Austrvegr -- and who knows if they may return?
You are one of these, a young Dane who sails to seek silver and fame in the decadent lands of the Greeks. You are warrior strong of arm and fine of body, like the great heroes of the sagas before you. You will march in the guard of an emperor, the Varangians of myth and saga. To be a Varangian is to conquer the corners of the earth in service of that empire which was called and called itself Rome. It is to walk in the streets of Byzantium, and do battle in her name on countless battlefields. You will navigate ancient intrigues and deadly politics, battle with wits and words against old lords and mighty princes, and when words and wits fail, you will slay and bleed and die for the Emperor of the Romans.
They will not tell your name in the histories of the Greeks. The Christian men will raise no statues to you, nor keep you in their books. But if the sun smiles on you, and your blade falls right, and your numberless foes break before you as the tide breaks upon the shore, then -- only then -- you may live eternal in the songs of the north.
{}{}{}{}
Your name is Haestinn Svensson. You were born in a small fishing village on the icy shores of Kattegat, in Denmark. There stands a great grey stone on the outskirts of your village that has been raised for a generation. It is twice as tall and half again as a grown man, and is written all over in runes. Even as a boy, when you could not read for yourself the words upon the stone, you were proud to trace the runes with your hands, for it tells of the deeds of your father's father, who went Viking in the days when Harald the Fairhair was king in the North. In the lands of the Danes, fathers and husbands are remembered in song and story, but most of all in the great stones that are raised by their children to mark the tales of their lives. A man is not dead while his name lives still, and the Norse hold that while a warrior's life stands written in stone, he is toasted eternal in Odinn's hall.
The tale of your grandfather is written upon your heart, and you know it well. His exploits are legendary in your clan, and his name is still held in honor by those among who yet put stock in such things. Your grandfather was...
[] Haraldr Horse-Cleaver: Your clan's ancestor was Haraldr, Oseteinn's son and Keslaug's husband. He was incredibly strong of body and arm, and once killed a horse in a single swing, for which he was called Hestaklujfr, the Horse-Cleaver. He went reaving in the lands of the Gaels, and ten times took silver from their princes. He fell in the west, and his seven sons together raised this stone in his honor. (Start with a large, rich clan. While your share of the wealth is split between your cousins and uncles, the amount of Troops gained from the Clansman option is doubled. Permanent bonus to strength, intimidation, and looting.)
[] Sigtrygg Coal-Hair: Your grandfather was Sigtrygg Kolfagri, Oda's son, who hailed from Norway with his brothers and had a mane as black as coal. He led twelve ships to Frankia, and lined the Siene with Norse ships. He took a great payment from the Franks, and slew one of their princes in open combat, taking his armor as a sword-prize. He never lost a battle, but drowned in the north with two of his brothers. He fathered a line of great warriors, black of hair. His wife, Astrid Jorunnsdotter, raised this stone in his honor. (Start with a valuable ancestral set of armor. Gain more renown and experience from combat. Permanent bonus to melee combat.)
[] Æirik the Elder: You descend from Æirik inn Eldri, called by the Saxons Eric the Cross-Burner, who was Drotti's son and Frelaf's brother. He and his blood-brother Sikiddi sailed to England, where they four times took the Danegeld, but on the last his blood-brother was taken and slain in Mercia. He returned next summer with ten ships and avenged him dearly, burning ten churches of the god of the nails. The Christians wept, and tell tales of that vengeance still. He died old in his bed, and his sons raised this stone in his honor. (Increased Reputation and Intimidation bonus/gain, increased blood-brother bonuses, decreased reputation with Christians, increased reputation with Pagans)
[] Svæin of the Black Arrow: Your father's father was Svæin Blakkrbroddi, Tore's son and Halfdan's brother. He sailed far to the south with four ships and landed in Spain, where he fought as a soldier for the Christians for great pay. He slew twenty Moors with his own hand, and learned to speak the Christian tongues. He was shot through the cheek with a Moorish arrow, but lived and wore it around his neck ever after. He was slain in a battle over coin by his brother, Halfdan, who raised this stone in his memory. (Start with some knowledge of Spanish and Latin. Increased Diplomacy and Negotiation bonuses, and a bonus to all mercenary profits.)
[] Magnus Fox-Beard: This stone stands for your ancestor Magnus Refskeggi, who was Ivarr's son. He was a great seer and a godtalker, who went viking on the austrvegr with Snorri and Eyvind and never came back. He fell in Greikland fighting for the Varangians, and died well. He led them to a great victory, but was killed before it was won. This stone was raised by Snorri, his blood-brother and truest friend. (Increased Reputation gain with the Varangian Guard and the Imperial Court. Bonus to command and leadership.)
Even when you were born, Scandinavia was divided. The faith of the cross-god from Rome had crept into the land, and whole clans and families were divided as brothers and sons and wives forsook the old ways and the old gods. There is no great struggle, no scuffle or fight. The gods of battle and blood and bone and heath die quietly, slowly, silently. Certainly, by the time of your son's sons, the Norsemen will be Christians all, but now in these last days, there are heathens still in the great old north. As for yourself, you held the faith which your father held...
[] Christian: You have abandoned the ways of your father's fathers, for your god is the white Christ of Rome, who does not reave or take rings, who holds no other gods but he. You take the bread which is his flesh and kneel in the mornings to pray to the god of the nails. Yours is a faith on the ascent -- wherever the tide meets the shore, there also are Christian men, who speak the tongue of Rome and hold the cross in their hearts. (Increased Starting Reputation and Relations with Christians, Decreased Reputation and Relations with Heathens, and Decreased Starting Reputation with the Varangian Guard. Imperial Favor gain is doubled from combat actions.)
[] Norse: You hold to the old gods of the sagas, to Odinn and Loki and Freyja, to Thor the Thunderer and Balder the Hero. Your gods are the wild northern gods, the gods of snow and rain and sun, who laugh to go to battle and bear warriors on their shields. You are a pagan, like the heroes of the songs who came before you. Yours is a faith in ruin -- it crumbles daily before the cross, and in a lifetime it will be no more. Wherever you go, the men of the cross of Christ spit upon your feet and know you for a heathen, who holds heathen gods. (Greatly decreased starting Reputation and Relations with Christians and Muslims, Reduced Favor Gain with the Imperial Court, Increased Reputation and Relations with Heathens, and Increased Starting Reputation with the Varangian Guard. Legend gain is doubled from combat actions. You may convert later for a Legend malus.)
You do not go east fresh from the cradle -- you have armed yourself and bloodied your axe elsewhere in your youth. The doings and deeds of the Danes range far and wide across Europe, and your youth you have sailed the seas of the world seeking profit and glory. How did you first make a name for yourself?
Pick One
[] Viking: You sailed in the crew of the viking Karl Hadskremi, who put ashore in England, and took many rings there. Three men you killed on the shores of Anglia, and were honored for this by your fellow Danes. Karl took a meager payment in silver from the lords of that land, which he shared with you. You have walked on foreign shores and killed Christian men, and are known to all as a Viking, a reaver and a raider and the last of a dying brood. Your legend, if you will build it, will echo through history as that of one of the last vikings. (Start with slightly increased wealth. Increased combat XP gain, increased gain from looting, and small bonus to melee combat. All Legend gains are doubled.)
[] Mercenary: You went with a great band of warriors to Frankia, and there sold your swords in the wars of that land. From Paris to the Loire, you fought for dukes and princes and Frankish lords. The kingdoms of Charlemagne's sons and the sons of their sons are forever at war, and so you and yours were well-valued by the princes of Frankia, who placed you central in their armies and led you against Germans, Italians, and other Franks. You have seen many battles in your day, and though the stingy Frankish princes have not made you rich, fighting on their behalf has made you adept at fighting in formation and waging war as the Christians do. (Start with greatly increased Command and Warfare skills, and get a bonus to dealing with men under your command. Significant bonus to wealth gain from Contracts taken)
[] Trader: You sailed west not with swords, but with furs and goods to sell on the shores of Europe. You won with wry words and cajoling what your fathers took with blood and steel, and plied your trade from Munich to Cadiz. You have grown wealthy indeed, wealthy enough to hire a great many men to sail upon the east road with you. It is said that in the east, as in the north and the west and anywhere where there are men, gold and a sly-placed word may open many doors for a man who knows how to use them. (Start with greatly increased Charisma, Stewardship, and a significant wealth bonus. Increased wealth gain from trade, and a bonus to all Negotiations. Pick an extra Troop with which to go east.)
[] Hirdman: You were a soldier in the retinue of Sweyn Forkbeard, King over all the Danes in his day. In his time, he made war for the throne of Norway, and you fought under him. The court of the Danish king travels with him when he goes to war, and so you gained experience with the intrigues and politics of a royal court. Sweyn's sons vied bloodily for the throne, and as he aged, factions in Denmark made a game of swords and knives to win his crown for their favored prince. The Danes are not born to intrigue and trickery, but they may learn it as well as any other -- as you did. Perhaps most importantly of all, you know how to behave around royalty. They are a particular sort, but the right words said in the right ways may win their love as sure as any man. (Minor bonuses to Combat, Warfare, and Command skills, and Major bonus to Intrigue and Charisma. Increased Imperial Favor gain.)
You have assembled all your worldly wealth to prepare for the journey upon the Austrvegr. Three longships you have had made of finest oak, that rest proud upon the water and are bedecked with the symbols and shields of your fathers, and their fathers' fathers. From across Scandinavia, you have assembled a great and motely troop, warriors all and northmen in their blood. From where did you draw the men who will now travel east with you?
Pick one, unless you picked Trader, then pick two.
[] Danes: You have assembled fifty men bright of hair and cruel of eye, like to you in limb and face -- Danes, the most feared of all the northmen. For a hundred years and more, the Danes have been feared across the northern sea, a race of battlers and reavers, heavy-handed and dark-eyed. The Danes were the first to go a-Viking, and the first to ever land on the fair shores of far England in search of wealth and treasure. It is the Danes the Saxons fear in their hearts, and the Danes that they pray do not come in the night. So great are the legends of the Danes that they have reached even the furthest east. The Danes were the first to fall to the god of the nails, but it has made them no less feared. (Your troops will be more terrifying and intimidating, but they are majority Christian.)
[] Norwegians: The fifty men of Noregr you have gathered are dark of hair and bold of tongue, and laugh as they go to war. They outmatch all other Northmen in contests of strength, and their mightiest go to battle bare-chested and howling, fury in their eyes and death upon their lips. Hailing from the north as they do, the Norwegians have for the most part not knelt to the cross, and hold still heathen things. It is said among the Christians that the men of Noregr hold in their hearts a pagan lust for gold -- and perhaps it is true, for they are pricier in pay than most in the north. (Your troops will be better fighters and last longer in battle, but are majority Norse pagans, and require more pay.)
[] Swedes: The Swedes are travellers and wanderers and explorers all, great fair-haired sea-kings who have mapped all the coasts of Europe. Though not born to battle as the Norwegians are, or half so feared as the Danes, the Swedes are clever and shrewd, far-sighted and far-learned. They were the first, it is said, to travel the Austrvegr and serve in the hird-guard of the eastern emperors, and this reputation precedes them. The Swedish clans are split between the cross and the old ways, and those fifty or so which you draw upon represent this divide. (Your troops will gain experience and Reputation faster, and are divided equally between pagans and Christians.)
[] Clansmen: You call upon your own vast and wide-ranging clan and it's members to recruit your troop. You are all warriors of Daneland, tall and strong and bright-eyed, and the bonds of blood run deeper than any coin could hope to reach. In the strange eastern lands, where life is cheap and loyalty cheaper, the love of men bound to you by more than oaths alone will be invaluable. They are not the strongest or the smartest or the most feared, but they are your cousins and your brothers and your blood, and that may be worth more than all the rest. (Your troops have vastly increased loyalty and a significantly lowered risk of revolting. They will be majority whatever faith you have picked.)
[] Icelanders: Some few, daring, and bold men make the long, harsh journey from the distant isle of Iceland to venture further still into the east. These Icelanders are red-haired and bone-proud, tall men with straight backs who have been raised even harsher than most Norsemen, amid the craggy shores of their great northern isle. The sea spat them out, so it is said, for they were too bitter and proud for Jormungandr to swallow. The Icelanders are famously stubborn and tenacious to a fault, unrelenting in love and battle, and, as might be expected, remain unwaveringly pagan. For those raised amid ice and rock and salt, there can be no gods but the gods of sky and sea. The pale god of the nails has no grip upon their hearts. (Your troops have vastly increased morale and cannot break in battle unless they are the last force standing. They are permanently Norse pagan and can never convert.)
When all is said and done, and the boats are readied, you kiss your wife and sons farewell and launch from the coast of Denmark towards the eastern seas. You have set out upon the old east road, to go viking as your ancestors did in the days of song. One day, you know, your sons will raise a rock with your name upon it to tell of things you will do in the days and years to come, over the sea in Rome.
[X] Plan Model Guardsmen
- [X] Magnus Fox-Beard
- [X] Christian
- [X] Danes
- [X] Hirdman
Essentially the whole point of the quest is to become a member of the Varangian Guard so lets take the traits that make us as well suited for the job as possible and rise as far as we can.
This build maximizes our gains with the Varangian Guard while also blunting our debuff with the Imperial Court. Should make for a quick rise with plenty of legend behind it.
Edit: And now I'm having to cannibalize my vote so we don't become weak-kneed Christians. For shame. For shame.
[X] Plan Commander
-[X] Magnus Fox-Beard
-[X] Christian
-[X] Mercenary
-[X] Clansmen
I agree with this plan the most. For me Magnus and Christian were necessary for the Reputation/Command/Leadership then Rep/Favor as we're going to be dealing with the Byzantines.
Then it became a tossup between what I thought was going to be the more important part of this quest. Fighting or Politics. If politics I would have gone Model Gardsmen for the Hirdman but I believe having that stronger core of troops will do us better in the long run. Mercenary for Command/Warfare + loyalty/money. Clansman then solidifies our troops into a solid block. None shall separate us. Hoping that stacking command/warfare will get them through alive then money to then upgrade gear + hire more.
