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What can you trust? Part II
Herbalist skills are usually quite prized
but the kings company had forcefully recruited any slaves they could gather, so was Patrick was in no better a position than the rest of the forced labor. Some of them were skilled blacksmiths, speaking in their strange tongue. The slave master beat any he found engaging in fire god worshiping rituals. Disk amulets where confiscated all owners whipped. None of the smiths even tried to build a god-fire.
Patrick would have welcomed the light bringer himself, the weather was constantly deteriorating. After so many weeks at traveling across the forests, the soldiers and slaves were undistinguishable from one or the other. All covered in mud, their uniforms torn. He got himself through by chewing petersij leaves. They gave a nice buz, kept the worst of the fatigue away… it did its job well enough. Patrick at fist feared he might overdose the plant to toxic levels, but this fear melted away with each use.
He thought things would never get better, the heavy loads. The freezing nights and the unbearable burden of supplies, were a hell to his fragile frame. Being a sickly child that kept the elders company, was not a good background for a load bearer. One day he collapsed and slipped into unconsciousness… his last thought were of death and of his father and mother both dead, for crimes he knew, he hoped they had not committed. The caprice of a local clan leader had got them an exotic punishment, one he heard originated in Carpathian: Implement. Fortunately the executors where not very skilled, his parents died quickly. Despite this he could not bear the sight, even after seven years. And as he pondered, death the sight was more vivid and unbearable than ever.
****
It was a magical sight, as the clouds cleared, the suns rays touched the green land, transforming it. The forests where still humid from the rainfall, they where still a dangerus place, but there was light and they began to resembe the beautifull forests that he had traveled through during his childhood, while going to the capital with his father.
As the days passed and his clothes dried, the sprits of the group improved, several other groups had emerged from the forests, reforming battalions. Many of these had apparently used the newly finished roads, they where in much better condition than the ones that followed the units commander's order "to take a shortcut".
He cursed that they had taken the “short” path, but men can not predict the weather, and the condition of paths. If they could they would be gods. T
Soon 500 men marched togheter as one, it was by scout reports only a few days before all the group would be united and march together on the wide and well maintained King’s Road. Right past the gates of the undefended capital, to protect its countryside from the assault of vicious barbarians.
****
The anomalous weather had finally subsided, Bruno would not question divine providence, the rain and cold were sent for good reason. Never the less, he thanked Ozzy it was over, just the other day another slave collapsed; Bruno feared he would have to add his death, to the added bloated expenses of the long trek. But as the weather cleared, the slave master decided to add his burden to the cargo the slaves hauled. It was quite unusual that he collapsed, since his burden was one of the lighter ones, perhaps he was not used to heavy physical labor? No matter. Bruno had lists to check if he had some extra time he would look up this “Patrick”, if he did not he would instruct the others to leave him in the forest… Their mission could not be slowed for any reason. He fervently prayed to Ozzy to this end.
****
Remi the II, King of France sat in his rather modest palacial quarters reading reports. As he awoke he was pleased to note the clear skies. He was further cheered by good reports from the field, the commanders had told him his that his guard had no difficulties traversing the forest. They had split into organized groups to better scout for optimal paths, quite ingenious. Remi would have certainly given thought as to promote the commander of the group, if it were not for the fact that it would have been easier for the thousand men army to have simply used the roads.
He also didn’t like the fact that slaves where confiscated in Orleans to carry supplies, he ordered them be sent to Paris instead of continuing the march. The army and especially his guard should not be reliant on the influence of clan Corrin or Advak.
Other news was not as good. True, new weapons had been forged in haste and had been delivered to the warriors. But still they could not pass for axmen division.
He decided that on the final leg of the journey he would join his comrades and fight alongside them to save Paris from the wildling barbarian threat. The gracious aid of the Mongols, many of whom had in all but appearances become Frenchmen, had kept them at bay for many years, but recent torrential downpours, mean that Mongol chariots where stuck in the muddy paths and jungles of the north. Remi’s ambition to make France strong made him a man of no compromises. Brilliant success or epic failure where his only two options. He could not sacrifice a single road, a heard of Sheep, a grain of wheat. All the infrastructure he had build must stay, if his plan is to succed. After he would be done with her, France would be reborn.
He sent a note to the Corrio clan leader, that he had ordered a special gift be brought to them. Amazingly those one hundred men represented almost the entire slave population of Orleans. He considered encouraging migration of some of the smelters of Paris to the Mongolian border region. Keeping them under control should not be a problem. Despite Orleans’s small population.
What could they do, revolt together with their Mongol counterparts, equip the unsubdued barbarians in the steppes with swords and begin a barbarian raid ulike any in history? That though caused Remi to chuckle, afterwards he decided to meet the governor of Lyons to discuss change in policy, before heading north. He would also, after the campaign need to take the time the time to welcome a long awaited guest to the palace of Paris.
(end of part II)
Herbalist skills are usually quite prized
but the kings company had forcefully recruited any slaves they could gather, so was Patrick was in no better a position than the rest of the forced labor. Some of them were skilled blacksmiths, speaking in their strange tongue. The slave master beat any he found engaging in fire god worshiping rituals. Disk amulets where confiscated all owners whipped. None of the smiths even tried to build a god-fire.
Patrick would have welcomed the light bringer himself, the weather was constantly deteriorating. After so many weeks at traveling across the forests, the soldiers and slaves were undistinguishable from one or the other. All covered in mud, their uniforms torn. He got himself through by chewing petersij leaves. They gave a nice buz, kept the worst of the fatigue away… it did its job well enough. Patrick at fist feared he might overdose the plant to toxic levels, but this fear melted away with each use.
He thought things would never get better, the heavy loads. The freezing nights and the unbearable burden of supplies, were a hell to his fragile frame. Being a sickly child that kept the elders company, was not a good background for a load bearer. One day he collapsed and slipped into unconsciousness… his last thought were of death and of his father and mother both dead, for crimes he knew, he hoped they had not committed. The caprice of a local clan leader had got them an exotic punishment, one he heard originated in Carpathian: Implement. Fortunately the executors where not very skilled, his parents died quickly. Despite this he could not bear the sight, even after seven years. And as he pondered, death the sight was more vivid and unbearable than ever.
****
It was a magical sight, as the clouds cleared, the suns rays touched the green land, transforming it. The forests where still humid from the rainfall, they where still a dangerus place, but there was light and they began to resembe the beautifull forests that he had traveled through during his childhood, while going to the capital with his father.
As the days passed and his clothes dried, the sprits of the group improved, several other groups had emerged from the forests, reforming battalions. Many of these had apparently used the newly finished roads, they where in much better condition than the ones that followed the units commander's order "to take a shortcut".
He cursed that they had taken the “short” path, but men can not predict the weather, and the condition of paths. If they could they would be gods. T
Soon 500 men marched togheter as one, it was by scout reports only a few days before all the group would be united and march together on the wide and well maintained King’s Road. Right past the gates of the undefended capital, to protect its countryside from the assault of vicious barbarians.
****
The anomalous weather had finally subsided, Bruno would not question divine providence, the rain and cold were sent for good reason. Never the less, he thanked Ozzy it was over, just the other day another slave collapsed; Bruno feared he would have to add his death, to the added bloated expenses of the long trek. But as the weather cleared, the slave master decided to add his burden to the cargo the slaves hauled. It was quite unusual that he collapsed, since his burden was one of the lighter ones, perhaps he was not used to heavy physical labor? No matter. Bruno had lists to check if he had some extra time he would look up this “Patrick”, if he did not he would instruct the others to leave him in the forest… Their mission could not be slowed for any reason. He fervently prayed to Ozzy to this end.
****
Remi the II, King of France sat in his rather modest palacial quarters reading reports. As he awoke he was pleased to note the clear skies. He was further cheered by good reports from the field, the commanders had told him his that his guard had no difficulties traversing the forest. They had split into organized groups to better scout for optimal paths, quite ingenious. Remi would have certainly given thought as to promote the commander of the group, if it were not for the fact that it would have been easier for the thousand men army to have simply used the roads.
He also didn’t like the fact that slaves where confiscated in Orleans to carry supplies, he ordered them be sent to Paris instead of continuing the march. The army and especially his guard should not be reliant on the influence of clan Corrin or Advak.
Other news was not as good. True, new weapons had been forged in haste and had been delivered to the warriors. But still they could not pass for axmen division.
He decided that on the final leg of the journey he would join his comrades and fight alongside them to save Paris from the wildling barbarian threat. The gracious aid of the Mongols, many of whom had in all but appearances become Frenchmen, had kept them at bay for many years, but recent torrential downpours, mean that Mongol chariots where stuck in the muddy paths and jungles of the north. Remi’s ambition to make France strong made him a man of no compromises. Brilliant success or epic failure where his only two options. He could not sacrifice a single road, a heard of Sheep, a grain of wheat. All the infrastructure he had build must stay, if his plan is to succed. After he would be done with her, France would be reborn.
He sent a note to the Corrio clan leader, that he had ordered a special gift be brought to them. Amazingly those one hundred men represented almost the entire slave population of Orleans. He considered encouraging migration of some of the smelters of Paris to the Mongolian border region. Keeping them under control should not be a problem. Despite Orleans’s small population.
What could they do, revolt together with their Mongol counterparts, equip the unsubdued barbarians in the steppes with swords and begin a barbarian raid ulike any in history? That though caused Remi to chuckle, afterwards he decided to meet the governor of Lyons to discuss change in policy, before heading north. He would also, after the campaign need to take the time the time to welcome a long awaited guest to the palace of Paris.
(end of part II)
The American iron age began midway through the reign of Christopher the Yankee. In fact many historians would agree that there is a direct link between his reign and the American utilization of iron, which would also be very influential in the next thousand years of American history. Christopher wanted to mark his reign as Commander in Chief with the establishment and solidification of American borders; and this meant expansion. In the first months of his reign he had already made positive deals with Carpathia and successfully rebuffed numerous barbarian attacks against both New York and Richmond. Christopher saw this attacks as perpetuous unless there was action. In response he called for the creation of a unified American army, comprised of all the tribal states and personally commanded them in a campaign in the jungles south of Richmond (which is where Christopher erroneously believed the barbarians to have come from). While there was never a 'barbarian empire' as Christopher envisioned, he did find a large stretch of land and realized quite readily that if he were to capture and subdue this 'corridor' of jungle he could at least ensure security for Richmond and the new settlement of Boston from southern attacks. Thus he established Philadelphia at the southernmost point of the Rocky Mountains. The early history of this settlement is interesting; it was initially objected to by the Turks who felt that the Americans had placed the city much too far from their main territories, little did they know that Christopher had a much greater vision than a simple far-flung settlement; he was going to expand greatly and establish a veritable American empire...
"How can you even tell what time it is?" Nathan responded "It is so hot, with this damn armor on." he removed his armor "Captain Manning would kill me if he saw me do this" he continued as he stretched his neck and arms "Heavy axe."
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