Land of the Free (XVII century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth Quest)

Winter was quite unpleasant this time of the year.

Yet that did not dissuade the majority of guests present in Warsaw that day. In fact, one could say that the Polish capital was as buzzing with people like a hive. It is because the City Square was full of them. One might say that the fair has come to town and the local merchants were competing with those from abroad for clients among the rich and powerful nobles living in court. Sadly, this was not one of those days. For starters, it was too bloody cold. The other reason was that most of the people in town were armed soldiers with no intention to be pestered by some screaming women selling garlic, good luck charms and miracle cures.

You happened to be among them.

With a bit of luck, you managed to find yourself a room to stay in one of the inns close to the city (those within Warsaw itself were long since taken). Having made all the necessary preparations and armed with your documents and letters of recommendation, you made your way to the designated staging point, which was the Town Square. With no other choice, but the wait in the cold, you wraped yourself as best as you could with your outerwear coat and took a look around. You saw about two dozens of men of similar status as yourself, foreigners talking to each other or cursing the weather in different languages, probably waiting for the chance to present themselves before His Majesty or someone competent to treat with them. After giving this a moment, you can't help but to smile. Isn't this a business as well? You and the others are simply peddlers wanting to sell their wears to a rich client and hope, that the competition is not as solid. Very fitting for you to gather on the market square. From what you could hear, most of the spoken lines were in German, not surprising. The Commonwealth is full of Germans and the war in the Empire just produces more and more officers in need of a job. Just like yourself.

Besides that you've spotted some common soldiers here, patrolling the streets and guarding certain entrances. All armed and dressed in the Western style. You could only imagine, if they were locals or just hired hands from abroad. Not that it matters really. Just another piece of meat for the grinder. Sometimes you can't help but wonder. Was all this cynicism there from the beginning or was it a byproduct of recent years? Bloody English… it you have no one else to blame, blame it on those peckers.

Your mighty philosophical ruminations were cut short, when someone started yelling in the middle of the square, asking for everyone's attention. His attire was clearly of Eastern origins, that is, local. The young lad, dressed in a small fur coat, started speaking, as the gathering of foreigners surrounded him from all sides.

"Gentlemen, may I have your attention!" he yelled, in Latin no doubt. Luckily for you, the Roman tongue was a language you understood. Indeed, you heard that any foreigner traveling throughout the country will never get lost or experience a problem, if he only knows Latin. It is a language known by almost everyone of higher stature, even by poor and landless nobles. So, when in doubt, use Latin! But since you know Polish as well, you have a better way to communicate. One you hope will win you some much needed support.

"Sirs! His Majesty is a most busy man at the moment, as you well know! Therefore he will only have time to see but a selected few of you today! The rest shall be free to await for further summoning or direct their efforts towards His Majesty's Deputy Chancellor or the Hetman's office!"

A murmur could be heard among the gathered men. It seems not all of them shall be lucky enough to see the King in person and ask for a commission. You hoped, that you were not among those unfortunate ones.

"The following gentlemen shall accompany me to the Royal Palace! Herman Schultz! Liam O'Donnell! William Mattison! Erwin Holk! Unfortunately, the rest of you gentlemen won't be able to see his Majesty today! Thank you for coming!"

You heard a few curses, some swearing and a good bit of grumbling. Yet that was to be expected, given the fact, that the vast majority of men stood there in the bitter cold for nothing. From what you know, some of these wretches have tried to see the King for days now, yet they can never get pass the red tape. It seems, that you were not among them, since you managed to win an audience on your first try. When the crowd slowly started to disperse, only you, the young herald and three other Westerners remained. Your company was soon joined by 4 soldiers seen patrolling the square earlier.

"Follow me please, this way!" the young Pole said and started to lead you all through the town towards the Palace. The soldiers acted as an escort. During the trip, you couldn't help, but to look with disdain at the man, who claimed to be named Mattison. That English prick was as happy, as a maiden on her wedding day, having finally won an audience. You have a strong urge to say a thing or two to him, hoping he will be stupid enough to draw his sword, damning himself.


[Intelligence roll: 79 – urge resisted]


You kept your mouth shut.

While the prospect of insulting that English hobo is a tempting one, you shouldn't pick a fight just before meeting the King. Not only can this lower your chances of employment, but also cost you your head. The law states, that anyone disturbing the peace within a radius of 3 miles from where the King resides, is subject to summary judgement by the King's Marshal and usually ends up on the scaffold. While courts in the Commonwealth are slow and ineffective, this is one of those, that beg to differ.

During your march, the noble instructs all of you what to do and what not to. When in the presence of the King, take your hat off, be sure to bow, address him "Your Majesty", do not unsheathe your sword… you hardly listened to be honest. Most of these rules are quite obvious for a man, who spent his years fighting under the gaze of a monarch. After trudging through the snow for what seemed like ages, you finally reach the Palace. An impressive building made from red brick, with a clock tower above it and guards around every corner. These ones however, were dressed in distinctively Polish attire, with blue, red and yellow colours used. They were carrying halberds, like in the good old days, probably the royal guard. You braced yourself for what was about to come.

Waiting inside the Palace corridors was infinitely better, than outside. Sure, it may not have been the warmest place you could think of, but better than freezing out in the snow. Inside the room just opposite you, guarded by a pair of tall oafs with halberds, dressed like those buggers outside, was the King. You'll never get used to the local uniforms. The carnival's in town, you thought.

One of those Germans, Schultz, was called in first. This means, you had to share space and air with that bloody Englishman. He was busy talking to the other officer, Holk. Their conversation was in German, so you understood everything you could hear. It seems they were exchanging experiences from the war in the Empire. You kept a reasonable amount of distance, otherwise you simply had to grant his face the honour of meeting your fist. Suddenly, he turned his round, plump face towards you and said in German:

"Mr. O'Donnell sir! Forgive me to intrude, but I believe you come from the Isles as well?"

"I do." you answered simply "What's it to you?"

"Mr. Holk is asking me, whether it's true, that Ireland is part of England. Care to explain it to him?"

"Ireland is NOT England" you hissed in English "Explain it yourself, ya English gobshite."

"What did-" Mattison, with his face red, apparently wanted to say something nasty while reaching for his rapier, but was cut short by the oppening door. The poor bastard had to keep quiet if he wanted to find employment. Schultz was leaving the room with a wide smile on his face and turned to leave the Palace the way you all entered. It looked like he got what he wanted. Meanwhile Holk, watching the whole scene, seemed pretty amused. At the same time, the well known face of the young Pole appeared from inside the room.

"Mr. O'Donnell, if you please."

Without saying another word, you went inside, leaving the perplexed officers in the corridor to their own devices.

The room was in stark contrast to what you've experienced so far. For starters, it was warm. The fire burned intensely in the chimney to the right, while the people present sat behind a large, mahogany table, full of documents and a map. In the middle, upon a large chair, sat the 38 year old man himself. The newly elected King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, Władysław IV of the Royal House of Vasa, also by right King of Sweden and elected Grand Duke of Moscow. Naturally, the King was the only one sitting directly in front of you. The rest of the present noblemen either sat on the sides of the table or stood next to the monarch. Most were dressed in the Western style, with the exception of 2 plus the guards. The room itself was well maintained, with ornamental furniture and paintings hanging from the walls and well lit with a couple of candlesticks present for good measure. All in all, 9 people were inside the room: the King himself, 6 of his dignitaries and two soldiers guarding the door from this side as well.

You reacted as you were told and took off your hat, bowed reverently, taking a few swipes with your headwear along the floor. Courtly rituals were never your strong point, yet you adapted and wanted to get it over with. After showing due respect to the King, you stood up straight and started speaking in Polish:

"Liam O'Donnell, former Colonel in the army of His Majesty, the late Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden. At Your Majesty's service." and you bowed once more.


[First impression roll: 76 + 10 bonus from Budget choice = 86 - very favourably received]


"Ah, yes." the King said with a smile "We have been expecting you. Your offer of service is most welcome in these troubled times. Please be seated, Colonel." the King pointed at the single chair in the middle of the room.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." you answered, taking up his offer.

"So, Colonel... how's the war going in the Empire?" said King Władysław, apperantly in a good mood "We have heard of the death of our dear Cousin. Yet never from an eyewitness. Care to elaborate?"

"Your Majesty, please forgive me, but I was not present at the exact time of the King's death. I only saw the moment, when his body was brought back to camp. His Majesty was stripped of all worldy possessions, even clothing, with gunshot wounds to the arm and back. His death wasn't quick, it's obvious he must have suffered from his pierced lung before the end. As for the war in general... before I left, we were told by Chancellor Oxenstierna, that the conflict shall continue."

"Obviously" said in Latin one of the noblemen inside the room with a snicker "The fox knows, that otherwise his whole war would have been a waste of time and money."

"Dönhoff" the King scolded him "Now's not the time."

"Yes, Sire. I am sorry."

"Now then, Colonel" King Władysław turned his gaze back to you and spoke in Polish again "We have read your letter of recommendation from the Duke of Weimar. You are an unusual one. Not only do you speak Polish, but have also seen service in Prussia, correct?"

"I have, Your Majesty."

"Why then have you left Swedish service, despite your conduct in the Empire and wish to serve Us?"

"I..." you pause for a moment, trying to come up with an answer "I have seen enough bloodshed caused by Protestants to Catholics. Both back home and here. Now I wish to serve a Catholic power with the hope of achieving some... inner peace."

"Inner peace?" the King rose his eyebrow and chuckled "Do you not mean better pay, Colonel?"

"No, Sire. If I was looking only to profit from my skills, I wouldn't have left. I had a good chance of achieving a higher rank in Swedish service and with it, money and power. Yet I forfeited it all and came here to serve Your Majesty in any way I can."

"And by serve you mean money, correct?"

"The best way of serving Your Majesty would be to raise and lead a regiment for the King's army. That's what I do best and what I would recommend, hoping Your Majesty shall agree with me on this."

"Of course, O'Donnell. We wouldn't have summoned you if We were of a different opinion. What force do you propose?"

You gave this moment a long thought on your way here. What kind of regiment shall you create and lead? What would be its profile? While it's obvious, that the easiest choice would be to train a unit of locals, you had a better idea.

One, that you harboured for a long time.

One, that popped into your head the moment you joined the French army.

One, that you now had a chance to put into practice.

"I shall raise a unit of Irishmen for service in Your Majesty's armies." you said with firm conviction in your voice.

"Oh? An Irish regiment? Like Butler's?"

"That is correct, Your Majesty."

"So, you have heard of him. It means you really did serve in Prussia." the King said with a smile.

You remember very well talk of James Butler and his unit of Irishmen fighting your forces during the Prussian War. It was universally agreed, that his men were some of the best soldiers on the Polish side and he was known to Gustavus Adolphus and Oxenstierna by name. The King hated his guts for how pesky and efficient he was. For you it was proof, that such a task, like recruiting a unit of Irish soldiers, was entirely possible.

"Very well." King Władysław said "While We were hoping for some more local regiments trained up to Western standards, there is no shortage of officers, that can do that. Colonel Butler proved, that Irish soldiers are well worth having and We simply cannot say no to such an opportunity. You have Our permission to do so."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you very much." you said with a smile, relieved that your dream shall finally come true.

"Have you formed any plans beforehand, Colonel?"​