Author Topic: Now Rise, Myrmidons.  (Read 798 times)

Daniel Mcfinnigan

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Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« on: 21 April, 2018, 03:20:14 AM »
April 19th, 1318
Daniel had read the letter from his Prince, Jericho Stone, and read it well. It stated the need for more resources than Scotland could humanly produce. He saw the writing on the wall and quickly called Arthur Scott to the room. “Arthur my boy, round up the people for me, and make it quick” He said as he handed a scratchily written piece of paper to the young squire.

“Jericho Stone. Alexandros Marketos, knights of the Order of Scotland” He said to the two men kneeled before him. “As Jericho has no doubt spoken to you about, we are in need of Coal and the region around us produces some to the west in the isle of Ireland” He said sternly.

“Jericho, go forth and assemble your team for this, I will write some papers informing the Irish government of my intentions. This will be seen as a huge act of aggression, to which it is, but Scotland must have that resource” He said as he slammed his fist.

The knights had left and Daniel had scanned through his books while he awaited the men to return with their ensemble. A book had caught his attention, “The Myrmidons” The book was bent out of shape, the paper was filled with disgusting ink and the book had looked older than his great nan, god rest her soul. He liked the name, it could be used as the name of the group of soldiers to arrive in his name.

A few hours go by and finally the knights have returned with a small group of men, all very noticeable besides one. The young King looked at them and almost jokingly said loudly “State your name and profession”. The looks he got were amusing.

The men and Ingrid had stated whom they were and what they did. Many were hardened warriors of the Anglo/Celt conflict, veterans of the English/Kievan wars and defenders of the French realm.

“Right, good to see everyone. As you all know, you have been summoned here by royal decree of King Daniel as per suggestion by Prince Jericho” He said as the stood in line. “As forth, you will be known as the Myrmidons and you will do the bidding of Prince Jericho. You have been brought forth as strong men of the realm that can act quickly and quietly and you will do so now. A ship has been chartered for you all in Carrick that will arrive in Leinster in a few hours. Go now and arrive with our contacts in Mide and soon bring the glory of your King to the battlefields of Ireland” He said as he dismissed them.

Soon the Irish would see his letter of hostility and that of war. It wasn’t something Daniel did lightly, but the production of Scottish goods to the defense of the realm was needed more than a few friendly feelings. He had hoped that they would reach a settlement or an agreement after the battle of Mide, regardless of the winner. Daniel had no need to wage war in the already war torn British Isles, it was all strictly business with him.

Andrew White

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #1 on: 23 April, 2018, 06:21:56 PM »
DANIEL NOW BEGINNING TO SEE MORE CLEARLY AS HE AWOKE FROM HIS DRUNKEN SLUMBER HAS BEGUN TO REALIZE HIS GRAVE MISTAKE IN CHALLENGING THE MILITARY MIGHT OF A VASTLY SUPERIOR FOE. UNFORTUNATELY, HE ACTED IN HASTE AND DID NOT THINK TO ACT WITH A TEMPERED SPIRIT IN A FRIENDLY MANNER, BUT INSTEAD ACTED WITH HOSTILITY FAR TOO SOON HE WILL REGRET HIS DECISION AS HIS ONCE MIGHTY, BUT NOW FRAIL ARMY WILL LAY WASTED AND DECIMATED ON A FOREIGN BATTLEFIELD. HE MUST NOW PONDER THE FUTURE OF HIS ACTIONS AND HOW HE HAS ONCE AGAIN EMBARRASSED HIS KINGDOM, AND PUSHED THEM EVEN FURTHER INTO DEBT TO THE BANKERS, SLAVERS AND BOOKMAKERS. PITIFUL. DISGRACEFUL. SAD. TO WHAT END? LEARN FROM THE MISTAKES OF DANIEL IS THE LESSON TO BE LEARNED FROM THIS HISTORICAL MOMENT IN TIME.
VIRTUS JUNXIT MORS NON SEPARABIT

Daniel Mcfinnigan

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #2 on: 25 April, 2018, 12:59:20 AM »
A not so diplomatic invitation was given to Andrew, who had burst in after all had left besides Daniel. Daniel, seeing the very angry and seething man, just watched as the man got loud about the actions of the King of Scotland. Daniel, as a fine King, listened to the man berate him until he was finished.

"Andrew, King of Ireland, nice to meet you. I do not think the power of Ireland would beat my best and brightest, no doubt in my mind. If you would like to consider some things with me while the gods have declared temporary peace in the lands, I would like to challenge you, and your followers, to duels against my soldiers" He said to the man before him, still obviously very berated, maybe more so after the comment.

"I would be happy to meet you in neutral England and we can settle this in a duel, good King. Nothing to win or lose, besides a little pride, what say you?" He said to the now cowering man within the court of Scotland.

(RIP) Otto Von Mecklenburg

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #3 on: 25 April, 2018, 06:04:25 AM »
Otto sat behind his hand built hut which cast a shade over his body. The winds brought in great weather today. Home sweet home, Strathclyde. He stepped out from behind the hut and watched as his cows grazed. They loved the cool wind on a sunny day. Otto slowly made his way through the field to Marie, his number one cow. He pats her on the head and admired the others grazing. Farming wasn’t a job to Otto, it was a way of life. He chose to come to these lands. Many deemed him crazy, but many do not know the upside to living in such a vast open land by themselves. Much he can do without any disturbances. As the sun started to make its way behind the trees off in the distance, Otto started rounding the cows up for the night. He closed the gate behind the last one and walked inside.
   There was once a day when Otto did not farm. Many are not aware of his true talents. To be honest, any who did know wish they had not tested him to begin with. He grabbed a bottle of brandy and took a seat. Looking up slowly he stares into his set of armor laid against the wall. He knows it’s coming, one day soon, he’ll be asked once again to swing the mighty axe. It’s not something he looked forward to, but there are times he’s wondered not when it might be, but who might be the poor soul on the other end of his axe. The man who showed up not knowing he would never return home.
   He picked up the letter off the table that was delivered earlier in the day. Mail did not come here often, nor did it ever bare good news. Reading the letter, he took another swig of the brandy before setting the bottle down and standing up. The letter was from his dear friend, Jericho Stone. It stated the need for resources and plans to execute. Jericho and his leading soldier, Alexandros, were to assemble the group once again. Otto picked up his axe and swiped his finger clean across the edge. It was time.
   The several days trip to Mide was no picnic. The storms crashed against the sea forcing endless waves of water onto the deck. When the group finally beached the shores of Mide, we performed every move as a single unit. As the days went by, several Irish men pleaded for mercy. Otto laughed. These men were not warriors. The Gods saw this and cursed the lands to prevent war. If it’s one thing you don’t ever do in your lifetime, it’s piss off the Gods. Obeying the orders implied by the curse, we sailed off back home.
   After arriving, we soon heard from the King of Ireland. This man apparently speaks very negative of Scots. Using words like “grave mistake”, and “frail army”. I’m not too sure what this King thinks he knows, but he’s clearly got some things mixed up. Sitting at my table, I grab a piece of paper and start to write:

   “Jericho, it disgusts me to hear the things King Andrew of Ireland had to say about us. I want you to let me know the second I get a chance to have their heads. I ask of you to reach out to King Daniel and get me a chance to duel. I want all of Ireland to know that Otto Von Mecklenburg will duel any Irishman, any time. I will show them the meaning of grave mistake. Any Irishman stepping up to the challenge, I apologize in advance for it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”

(RIP) Matthias Saxe Coburg

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #4 on: 25 April, 2018, 07:10:54 AM »
I'd been drunk since we left Mide.  A godforsaken shithole of a place full of nothing but filthy miners and peasants, it hadn't been a pleasant stay.  The boat trip home had been worse - dismal weather and I never liked to sail at the best of times.

I'd crawled into a corner of the palace hall, demanding more to drink.  I must have passed out and only awoke to the most terrible racket.   A peasant-seeming chap who i vaguely understood as having the name of an Irish bastard appeared to be yelling incoherently and VERY VERY LOUDLY about something I could barely determine.  How tragic.

I rolled over in my corner and tried to go back to sleep.

Andrew White

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #5 on: 25 April, 2018, 03:49:20 PM »
THOSE THAT HOLD LOYALTY TO THE DRINK HOLD LOYALTY TO THE DEVIL, AND ARE CONFUSED AT WHAT THEY HAVE SEEN. HOW CAN THE DISCERN REALITY FROM FANTASY BEING DRUNKEN ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT. NO DOUBT THEY BELIEVE WHAT THEY SAW, BUT THE REALITY WAS THEIR HAPLESS ARMY WAS BUT A FEW IN COMPARISON TO THE DEFENDING FORCE MOUNTED IN MIDE. THE STRONG IRISH ARE QUITE AWARE OF SCOTLAND'S FAILED ATTEMPTS TO COLONIZE SOVEREIGN NATIONS FOR THEIR RESOURCES. LITTLE DO THEY KNOW THE TRUTHS, FOR IF THEY HAD THEY WOULD NOT DISMISS THE POWER THE IRISH HAVE. I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR SADISTIC INVITATION TO DUELS. IF YOU WANT A BATTLE YOU WILL HAVE TO BRING IT AS ONCE BEFORE AND YOU WILL FAIL AGAIN, AND AGAIN. YOU STARTED THIS AND THE IRISH WILL FINISH IT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THERE IS HONOR IN TRUTH, AND DISHONOR IN DECEIT. THE TRUTH WILL PREVAIL FOR ALL TO SEE. WHEN YOU ONCE AGAIN APPROACH OUR SHORES, I WELCOME THE BATTLE TO WHICH WILL UNFOLD AND ALL THE WORLD WILL WITNESS YOUR WEAKNESS AND SEE YOU FOR THE LIARS, AND DRUNKEN THIEVES TO WHICH YOU ARE. ERIN GO BRAGH!
VIRTUS JUNXIT MORS NON SEPARABIT

(RIP) Matthias Saxe Coburg

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #6 on: 28 April, 2018, 09:23:56 PM »
I was tiring of this noisy fool.  All I wanted was some sleep.

"Ser" I called out in a momentary break in his rantings, almost certainly addressing him above his bastard station/

"Will you cease this racket?  Or must I put you to the sword to teach you when you're beaten".  I dragged a gauntlet out of my bag and tossed it lazily on the floor at his feet.

(RIP) Jericho Stone

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #7 on: 02 May, 2018, 06:07:41 PM »
The cold steel of Jericho's war axe glistened in the light of the setting sun. Lancaster had never looked so good, he'd adorned a pretty picture across it's landscape, the blood of Argon Ap Rhys was to be the paint for this masterpiece.

"Are you OK down there Sir?"

Jericho grinned, he'd barely broken a sweat.

"The rats in Lothian offer more of a challenge Sir, I'm sorry but it's true"

It had been a long time coming. The first duel hadn't taken place due to a lapse in the time management skills of his opponent. Jericho had forgiven the dishonour and agreed to a second date, one for which for his opponent had made the effort, albeit in vein.

"Please pass on my regards to your foul mouthed fool of a King. Tell him that there are more like me. Tell him that in the beginning we only wanted his coal but that his words have now made such a compromise impossible. It's like a good friend of mine always says..."F*ck compromise...go for the throat""

Jericho checked the condition of his axe.

"It's as good as new Argon, your bones barely scratched it my good man. Now take time to heal and prepare your defences for when we next meet it will not be for sport..."

He didn't await a response, the man was barely conscious. He simply gathered his belongings and left the scene. Jericho had work to do.

(RIP) Matthias Saxe Coburg

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Re: Now Rise, Myrmidons.
« Reply #8 on: 01 July, 2018, 06:31:09 PM »
I stood on the crest of the hill in Munster, looking down at what we had expected to be a battlefield.  The light sweat on my brow was not from exertion in battle, for there had been none. Nay, was just the weight of my armour. Lifting my leg to place my boot on the skull of Ireland’s battered and broken king, crumpled on the ground in front of me, had been more tiring than actually fighting him.

Disappointed, it really did appear that he had no ability to match that of his ranting and raving.

“There there” I whispered. “Your Celtic pride is fine, merely misplaced. Soon the Saltire will fly here, and your loyalty will be to that”.