The Viking Migration Page 3

Afterward Captain Sigvhat orders the prisoners released. The King seeing this, turned to me and said, "I will need men like him as allies against the council and that German beast. This battle proved his courage, his wit, and his chivalry. In the past he has taken money from the nobles, though for what reason I do not know. Still, I have no better candidate that I can afford to send from my side."

As King Charles pauses to contemplate, I nod my understanding of what is to come.

"Bring him to me," the King commands.

A patent of nobility is drawn up while I fetch Captain Sighvat from the field. In front of the gathered might of nearly our nation's entire army Sir Sighvat is knighted and adopted into the royal family. In his speech the King implies that with courage, strength, and victory any other man in his service might see the same. I cannot speak for our garrisons elsewhere, but for these men, these great sons of Vikings, they are true to King Charles and woe be to 'Prince' Leopold if he should seek to test their loyalty.

Later that evening a messenger arrived out of the north, dust covered and weary he immediately presented the King with a letter bearing the Imperial crest of the Holy Roman Empire.
Near Thessalonica, turn 55.

Another noble son comes to call on the King, begging the hand of his sister. Again the young nobleman rides away in a huff, not having been granted a chance to press his case in person. The Feudal Knights rampaging west of Constantinople catch another small force in the mist covered hills, and press the attack.

The enemy arrays his ballista behind his spearmen, making it near certain they will see no work but dying today. When the front spearmen spot our banners emerging from the mist, they charge, while their commander sits back to watch with his own unit of spears around him.

They are run down and trampled under, a brief impediment to the momentum of our the Knight's downhill charge.

Our captain rides around the inital engagement, seeking their captain.

The enemy are braced and ready, but captain Grim leads the charge personally.

Behind them, their ballista crews are lanced.

When the last man from the initial spear unit falls, those men who led the charge move around behind the enemy captain. His courage fails him, and his men break to flee.

They don't get far.


 
Captain Grim has hopes of following in Captain Sighvat's footsteps, no doubt, but the Feudal Knights are new to King Charles' service, and without the King himself present the matter will not be handled today. Instead Captain Grim boldly leads his men across the straits and is the first of the Danes to pass into eastern lands.

Sir Sighvat and King Charles ride for Constantinople, catching up to a few small enemy forces along the way.

The disorganized enemy reinforcements are set to flight before they can reach the main Byzantine force. One good charge from the Gray Wolves destroys them!

Unfortunately in the melee an errant swing from King Charles kills my horse as I ride in my accustomed spot to his right. (The King's sword runs right through the eyes of the horse next to him.)

Leudaan was a good steed and had a clean death, falling to the earth without throwing or trapping me, but before he rides off for the rest of the enemy force the King swears to replace her from his personal stock. I sit, unhorsed but uninjured, on a hillside to watch main engagement. The enemy commands a slight hill of their own, and has a few fast horse archers on the flanks, but their spearmen look affrighted from watching their reinforcements fall so hard, so fast.

The Gray wolves charge the enemy right, while the Huscarls sweep their left. A small spear unit is obliterated instantly.


This draws the enemy captain's own unit of horse archers to charge the Gray Wolves, in a mad display of confidence.

Wheeling quickly, the Gray Wolves carve them up. The King himself smashes their captain to the ground as he rides by.

Hoping to save their captain, the enemy's last spears charge the Gray Wolves' rear. Again the Wolves whirl around to engage in a melee with no room for a charge.

Our Huscarls, having completed their sweep and driven off another small group of horse archers, find the enemy spearmen's rear exposed and hammer them against the anvil of the Gray Wolves.


The battle is hardly worthy of note, had it not been for the King's accidental swing. Much ale will pass over that story in the nights to come. The prisoners are released, and we ride out again immediately. I borrow a steed from the replacement pool with the baggage train, and ride hard to make it back for our second battle of the day.

Here we discover why the Byzantines have attempted to defend these valleys at all, a large, abandoned cathedral. It was not marked on our maps, and it may be a shrine of some sort. Though we ride up to examine the building, the King commands that no man enter it on the eve of battle, and we ride away to find the enemy.

Nearby the main enemy force is perched high on a hillside. We make for them, and the Huscarls are sent against the very light reinforcements making their way onto the field.

The enemy is well positioned and braced, awaiting our charge, but we are the Gray Wolves! We shatter their formation riding hard up the hill and ride over them.




Enemy ballistae struggle to pivot around and target the King, but the crews are terrified by what they've just witnessed, and we ride them down as well before they fire a single shot.

Then we chase the enemy horse archers up the hill and break them with one charge.


Another battle of little note, but for the fact that the prisoners we release spread word that King Charles is a cruel, unrelenting warrior. Not the reputation the King expected to gain from coming to the field with minimal forces, but a reputation is a tricky thing.

Hoping still for peaceful relations after we've taken what we need from the Byzantines, Princess Cecille is ordered to offer them the city of Venice as a gift. They accept, and we're sent word from our diplomat that they invest the city from the sea despite the Germans loitering on the bridge. Of the men we left behind there, no word ever reaches us. They vanish into the annals of intrigue between nations.

West of Constantinople, turn 56.

New noble son presented, same result. If nothing else, the council is succeeding in alienating the younger generation of nobles from their King. A diplomat near Zagreb reports seeing the mercenary garrison the Byzantines had hired for Venice all the way over at the border of our two nations. King Charles curses and wonders aloud if the Germans and Byzantines are somehow in league together against us. How else could that garrison have passed the crusader held bridge? And what are they doing camped on the border?

To date our travels have been through Catholic lands almost exclusively, and so churches and places of worship have been plentiful in the cities we capture. Now though, as we move from Orthodox lands into Muslim lands we will increasingly have to put up our own churches. With that in mind, King Charles commissions the construction of churches in all Danish lands that do not contain one. Corinth, isolated as it is, is ordered to dismantle training facilities for florins to build churches.

Our spies glimpse the garrison at Constantinople, and are impressed by the quantity of Byzantine heavy infantry.

Princess Cecille, after many hard years on the road, has seen some decline in her charms. Even so, she will make a fine wife, and King Charles decides that Sir Sighvat will serve best if he is cemented firmly to the royal line. The marriage is arranged, but purposeful, and both parties involved can see the reasoning. Despite being a wedding in the field, the King manages to concoct fine surroundings under an immense silk tent. All the troops enjoy three days of feasting and drinking in celebration.



More small Byzantine forces are swept from the area in battles too small to recount. Captains Grim and Magnus each press their case for adoption, but are refused graciously. The King's guard rides out to smash the last significant resistance before the walls of Constantinople.

The enemy claimed the very edge of a vast cliff, while we had to race our way up a near verticle facing covered in slick grass.

Victory was never in doubt, however, and the enemy turned tail in terror at the first sight of our banner, abandoning the high ground.

We rode over them, and took no losses.
Leopold is spotted in the area, and we watch as he catches a force of rebels on a hillside west of our camp.

The rebel archers are the first to taste steel and flee.

Rebel spearmen, badly led, follow them to an unmarked grave.


Following the battle King Charles sends for 'Prince' Leopold to enter his camp alone for a discussion. Leopold comes into camp alone with his head held high and an arrogant swagger. I offer to escort him before the King. He asks me "Have they told him yet," but I have nothing to say to the man. He curses the door sentry and kicks the cloak boy out of his way before entering the King's tent, still armed. Sneering, he comes into King Charles' presence and sprawls out in a chair looking around as though he expected someone else to be here.

Before he can speak the King stands at his desk, leans forward, and quietly says, "Looking for your noble allies? I know what they have promised you. I also know that your army of crusaders controlling the bridge to Venice have been recalled." Voice rising, King Charles continued, "Furthermore, I know that none of my men at arms have come to your call." Here the King tosses a packet of stained letters onto the table. Leopold's slouch increasingly takes on the feel of a slump. "And more than that, I know that your Emperor has repudiated you, your own father has cursed your name, and your holdings Bavaria have been seized in the name of the Empire!"

King Charles throws one more letter onto the table, with the Imperial seal of the Holy Roman Empire at it's foot. Gray faced, Leopold begins to stutter out something, but once again the King speaks, "I do not know what lies you told the Council to convince them that this mad scheme could pay out for them, but that doesn't matter now. In a matter of hours I expect your wife to arrive here. Before she does I will have your oath to serve the crown, or I will have your head. There is no council here, nowhere left to run, and nothing for you but service to King and country."

Sitting back, King Charles graciously allows Leopold a moment to compose himself. "My, my, my wi... and, my... my head?" Silently Leopold slips from his chair to his knees. He looks old, old beyond his fifty years. Placing his hands on the ground the 'Prince' bows his head and swears fealty to King Charles to his last breath.

After Leopold departs, King Charles hangs his head and is heard to mutter, "So am I repaid in turn for my usurpation of my father's crown and kingdom. Only good fortune saved our people from utter disaster and servitude to a foreign brute."

Some months later, assured of his grip on Leopold, if not the man's genuine loyalty, King Charles assigns him a command and orders him to move to hold the crossing west of Constantinople.
Closing on Constantinople, turn 57.

Again the Council sends their man before the King seeking adoption, and again he is sent off. A daughter, Hallotta, is born to Sighvat and Cecille. With Leopold holding one crossing and the great city herself sitting astride the other the King feels confident of our approach. A spy is sent to infiltrate the immense, sprawling city of Constantinople while our army camps on the road just outside the walls. King Charles is cautious; Constantinople is reputed to be the greatest city in the whole of Europe, if not the world. We have not yet laid siege, but all traffic out of the west passes through our hands before it reaches the city.

Besieging Constantinople, turn 58.

The noble council is assembling once again at Thessalonica after a very effective campaign to disorganize their efforts. They send a young cousin of the King to beg adoption, but King Charles is unmoved and sends the boy away. Guildsmen from the Swordsmith's guild approach us about putting a guildhouse at Sofia, and the offer is sorely tempting but turned down. The Pope sends word of his disappointment that we failed to crusade for Tunis. A delicately worded letter is sent in apology. We trade maps with the Portuguese, and while checking the garrison at Nicaea spot a strong army of potential reinforcements for Constantinople. It is hoped that our artillery will arrive before that Byzantine army.

To discourage any potential reinforcement of Constantinople, Leopold crosses the straits and makes for Nicaea. As usual, his arrogant letters leave the impression that he could charge forward and capture the city unaided. To further dissuade the enemy from attempting reinforcement, the King orders a siege set around Constantinople from the south, where we can control the crossing as well as contain the city. There will not, however, be an assault without better engines than the men can cobble together from trees. Engineers estimate that if the soldiers inside don't sally they can hold for 20 years or more. In a bit of good news our spy sends word that the commander of the city's defense is a sickly man, subject to visions and introversion.

Besieging Constantinople, turn 59.

A handsome young man, scarred by some quarrel with highwaymen, is the next attempt of the council. He bears a resemblance to the long passed Prince Sweyn that cannot be a coincidence, and my estimation of the nobility's collective cunning rises. It would seem the nobles have gathered at Thessalonica to plot and scheme; it can only be hoped that they soon fall to squabbling amongst themselves over the rich taxes levied from Thessalonica's trade.

One of the King's men watching Leopold reports that the fool has taken a pagan who claims to be a warlock into his inner circle. Our English allies are excommunicated again, and sign an alliance with the Pope's other foe, Sicily. It may be necessary to cut ties there. Fresh Russian maps are aquired. Rear garrisons at Zagreb, Ragusa, Durazzo, and Corinth are reduced to a bare minimum as men are called forward. A spy creeps into Nicaea, and discovers it is held by the eastern Roman's Emperor himself.

Leopold's crossing has worked perfectly, the men we suspected would reinforce Constantinople move to block him instead, and he brings them to battle west of Nicaea.

Leopold comes on them at dusk as they command a sloping hillside, flanked by horse archers on the nearby farmland. With a snarl Leopold orders his Huscarls to isolate the horse from the main force, and sends infantry marching for a direct assault on the hill.

When enemy arrows begin to fall amidst his personal guard, the Lions of Bavaria, Leopold is enraged and screams 'Charge!' His guard outpaces the infantry in his lust to reach the hilltop.

With no heavy infantry to oppose the charge, and Leopold's Lions scattering his archers, the Byzantine captain first orders his men to abandon the hilltop and regain the advantage of range.

Realizing his error, the man attempts to turn his force to retake their position, and discovers that the Lions have taken it, and are upon him!

Leopold hung the Huscarls out too far, and they face arrows from both sides, but they also keep the enemy's only other cavalry at bay while our infantry close for bloody work. Having done their work of distraction, the huscarls abandon the fruitless chase and speed to the main engagement.

As the Byzantine archers fall back from our charge, their spearmen quickly lose heart and rout, doing as much to break the heart of their captain's horsemen as the Lions butchering them from above.


The fresh Huscarls chase enemy archers down a series of terraced hills, in an exhilarating ride that ends in utter defeat for Byzantium.


Leopold, with an eye to discovering the financial situation of his enemy before sieging their Emperor, offers the prisoners for ransom and is refused. Rather than kill them cleanly, he makes a sport of slicing their hamstrings and throwing them into the sea west of Nicaea, swearing that any who swim out will win their freedom. When this source of entertainment is exhausted, Nicaea is besieged.

The sieges of Constantinople and Nicaea, turn 60.

Another, less handsome chap with much the features of Prince Sweyn arrives in our camp, and departs the same day. If nothing else, the nobility has been fruitful in producing sons during their years on the road. Our diplomat in western Europe taxes the French for a resumption of the alliance they once betrayed. General Sighvat arrives with our artillery under escort, and King Charles takes them into his own forces and begins the assault on the mighty city of Constantinople. Sighvat is excused from the battle and little Emund is given into his care to watch the attack from a safe distance. He's old enough now to comprehend basic strategy, and it's knowledge he'll need in the life to come.

King Charles delivers a glorious speech in the dim, chill air before daybreak; full of pride, listing the cities we have taken and the armies we have sent into darkness, intoning our accomplishments without embellishing them or dismissing them as easy. "Our thirst has been slaked by the finest wines, the darkest grogs, and the most golden ales of all of western Europe!" When he lifts his sword to point over their heads, down the plain to what may be the greatest living city on earth rays of light burst over the distant mountains. "Tonight," he roars, "I will toast the fall of Constantinople! Who will drink with me?!" In one voice that must surely have echoed in down the dark streets of Rome's mightiest eastern city, the army bellow "I" This lust passes quickly, though, and discarding their ladders and rams, the men mutter amongst themselves in awe as we near the immense walls. They are like nothing we have seen before, beautiful, still, and deadly.

We suspect the Byzatine general will array his stiffest defensive troops by the south gate, and we will meet them head on with our main body of dismounted feudal knights and axemen under the banner of the Gray Wolves. To the east a pair of knight units are supported by dismounted huscarls, raiders, and Norse archers with a ballista. To the west three sets of Norse swordsmen support another ballista. We open with a barrage from the catapults.

Seeing those indomitable walls crack and heave apart brings a cheer from the men. When the first gap is opened, it's all King Charles can do to reign them in from a foolish charge.

On the east side the ballista works to dismantle the gate, to the west a wall is the target. The engines need only time to do their destructive work.

As time passes the King rides up and down the line, urging the men to hold their discipline. Finally when the catapults have broken three holes in the walls, and destroyed the only manned tower along this stretch, they are turned on the enemy infantry for a few shots while we wait for the engines on the other sides to do their jobs. The catapult men are new, and casualties among the enemy are few. The enemy general rides forward to encourage his men at the gap during the barrage.

At last the order is given, and our men make for the gaps. On the other sides the assaults are still to come, in hopes that the enemy will pull troops to try to reinforce against our main push. The enemy right, in the direction they would retreat to the square, is badly positioned and our men outflank them.

Then the assault begins. The knights are instructed to hold enemy's heavy infantry and spearmen in place while the axemen break their ranks. The enemy general seems surprised to be under attack, and his men sit back from the fighting in orderly rows.

Byzatine horse archers race down from the square. Fearing they may come against the breech we hold to the enemy right from behind, King Charles leads the Gray Wolves inside the walls to beat them back. Seeing the King speed by, the enemy general at last sends his bodyguard into battle.

King Charles and I are the tip of the spear thrust against a four times our numbers in Byzatine horse. Meanwhile, though his guard fights, our opponent's commander still sits back on his horse and waits.


Watching our axemen carving apart heavily armoured men ahorse, the few fools left on the right flank of the enemy's hold point break and surrender.

Enemy foot archers take to the walls by the gate, behind the battle. Knights are sent racing to deal with them before they can drop a shower of fire arrows onto our King.


With his right flank shattered, the pocket begins to close against the enemy commander. Axemen and knights surround him, and he panics, causing his horse to rear and cast the poor fool out of the saddle. He is butchered without having swung his sword once.


With his fall, the men at the gap realize they have no escape, and fight a grim struggle to the death until our axemen pull back and convince them a surrender will be respected.

To the east and west the Byzantines start to withdraw from the walls in an orderly fashion, and our soldiers rush forward to trap them away from the square.


By the south gate the Gray Wolves have cut their way through all the cavalry the enemy will send against us. We pursue the remnant up the street, towards the square and more enemy troops.

Unfortunately, we are trapped there when their cavalry rallies and is aided by an ambush from spearmen and archers. Pinned against the building by spears, Wolves are felled like leaves. (I was watching the fight to the east with no HUD info and somehow a few scraggly spears, HA, and just one full unit of archers tore apart my King's bodyguard unit. Strange.)

I look around, and suddenly King Charles and I are fighting alone! I bellow for the King to fly back to our dismounted knights, but he gives a laugh full of battle lust and carries on killing. I am suddenly glad Sir Sighvat did not join us here, as I lay about myself furiously.

At just that moment the sunrise catches the King's gleaming red spattered armor. Still laughing nastily, King Charles snaps his sword back, throwing an arc of blood off the blade into the faces of the archers that have drawn back from him in terror. The men of Byzantium's spirit breaks, and half of them throw down their weapons and clutch desperately at my horse while they plead for their lives. The rest break for the town square, and the King rides among them, smashing in heads like a hero out of legend.

Reaching the square, they discover that there is nowhere left to flee, and, already marked for death, they turn to resume battle with our commander. Fortunately hardy Knights and Norse axemen have charged to King Charles' aid.

When a shower of fire arrows lands amid the red tide around him, King Charles recovers his wits enough to note that he was saved from immolation only because the man he'd been fighting was struck in the back instead.

I ride in, and draw the King back down the road to check him for injuries he wouldn't have noticed taking during his berserk run. Meanwhile our men arrive at the square on all sides. The beleagured remains of the enemy army put up some resistance, but our numbers are vastly superior and carry the day. Constantinople, the ancient capital of the eastern Roman Empire, was ours!


King Charles, gracious in victory and awestruck by the beauty and majesty of the city, releases the prisoners and commands the citizens be spared during the occupation. He swears an oath to see the walls repaired as though new before we leave. I wonder if we can manage so large a city without fear, but if what we seek is a place in history best if that place was not as the greatest despoilers of the final legacy of mighty Rome.
Siege of Nicaea, continuing turn 60.

Though he cannot see it himself, in the eyes of the world Leopold comes against a superior commander in Emperor John. The quality of the soldiers in his army, though, swings the balance of power in a distinctly Danish direction.

 
Leopold reports that he manned a ram at the west gates with peasant archers and sent them against the most heavily defended stretch of the enemy's walls, while to the south veteran Norse Archers comprised four ladder teams to quickly exploit any undefended walls there, and to the north militia spearmen pushed the ram against Nicaea's seaside gate.

The peasants reached the west gate first, and the enemy sends reinforcements from the square to hold there. Lucky for our men the Emperor has not chosen to put archers on the wall enfilading the approach to the gate, and surprisingly few of them are lost before the gate breaks. Rather than charge through, the peasants line up along the wall to trade high angle fire with the garrison within.

Meanwhile, to the north our spearmen break the gates and drive a wedge between the Byzantine spears within, holding them while Norse swordsmen are brought up to grind them against the walls.

A runner makes haste for the square as our men gain control of the gate and prepare to bring more forces within the walls.

At the west gate, a confused mass of Byzantine spearmen exit the broken gate, seeking to drive off the peasant archers hugging the walls. Leopold cannot resist charging them, and half their force is spitted and pinned to our abandoned ram.

To the north our swords and spears are threatened by archers on horseback, and call for their own cavalry to drive back the threat. The Huscarls stream into the city and split up, with one group engaging directly while the other rides hard around the enemy pack, to hammer them from behind.



Only our men ride out of that melee, and the whole northern army moves up towards the square.

This causes Emperor John to withdraw all but one of the units holding the southern walls, and our Norse archers launch their part of the assault. They easily scale the ladders to trap and capture the remaining spearmen on the walls.

A feint from the square causes our northern army to withdraw to a safer distance and regroup. When Leopold's group breaks into the city he immediately sends word for the northern Huscarls to ride to the east gate and approach the enemy's rear. Dead Byzantine spearmen have to be drug clear of the gates and piled on a street corner to make way for Leopold's men to move into the city.

The Emperor John's remaining troops huddle in the square in a tight formation, but they do retain control of a ballista and John's powerful personal guard is fresh.

The spearmen from the north square up their formation and attempt to bait the Emperor's heavy cavalry into an engagement. Ever predictable, the enemy charges, at which time our swordsmen reveal themselves and press through the ranks of spears to reach the Emperor.

Arrow-bit enemy spearmen too are baited out of the square and broken by dismounted huscarls and raiders.

Cowering under a tree by the east gate a unit of town militia is discovered and dispatched by our cavalry.

Our northern wedge spits Emperor John's horse, and swordsmen hack off his sword arm as he lies, broken in the street. Men who were there that day swear that his screaming was louder than any sound that could come from a mere man, and it destroys the morale of his guard. All of them surrender then and there, begging to be allowed to aid their leader as he lies on the blood stained cobbles, crying out to God for succor.

As the much reduced enemy army is pressed back into their square and surrounded the Emperor's mighty voice breaks at last and his screams cease to echo off the buildings. In short order, his once powerful army comes to an end as well.


Nicaea is sacked for ten thousand florins as Leopold releases his men to vent their frustrations on the citizenry. The spy who was unable to open the gates of Nicaea proves his worth even so, and spots the entire remaining royal family of Byzantium near the crossing west of Nicaea. Leopold begs to be allowed to ride out and destroy their lineage, but King Charles denies him.

Instead we negotiate with the Byzantines for the surrender of Smyrna, their sole remaining castle in the east. In exchange we offer them enough land to form very nearly a new empire, if badly developed, and their new Emperor wisely insists that an alliance be part and parcel of the deal, secure in the knowledge that we have never attacked an ally.


Exchanging ill held and poor lands for a fresh castle and a cowed ally to cover our rear flank seems a wise choice on King Charles' part.

Constantinople, turn 61.

Princess Vemy gives birth to a daughter, Randve. Sighvat gathers the men from Constantinople that the King would have retrained and escorts them to Sofia. Churches are commissioned in all our new lands.
Constantinople, turn 62.

The Pope is pleased that we have finally converted most of the people of Durazzo to the Catholic faith. Our priests are sent east immediately. King Charles discovers that a network of Thieves Guilds was worked into the fabric of every city and castle in the region, and orders their buildings burned to the ground immediately. A small fort is constructed east of Constantinople to guard the eastern approach to the city and as a staging point for moving soldiers from there to Nicaea.

The Venetian Pope counts us as a favored people, even above his own nation. King Charles wisely left diplomats stationed in Papal lands to assure that this continues to be the case.

Constantinople, turn 63.

The Pope commands the the people of Smyrna be brought into the light of God's church, and our priests move to obey. New priests are ordered trained as well for the task. Sighvat brings a much mightier force south than he took with him north, word of this pleases the King. Leopold sits quietly in Nicaea, and even the Council's incessant pestering of the King has taken a backseat to their determination to steal as much wealth as possible from rich Thessalonica. Though the royalty of Byzantium has fled our countryside, an armed contingent remains camped near Nicaea with protestations of insufficient ships and funds to move them west. Time will tell how true our ally can remain. One of our spies slips ahead and finds a good look at the capital of Turkey, Iconium.

Included here is a crude reproduction of our map of Europe with lines to show the path of our migration, and our current holdings colored blood red in the near east.

 

Interlude, Prince Leopold's dream. (I couldn't resist fighting the battle against all that was left of Byzantium's family after the siege of Nicaea, though it is completely inappropriate for the AAR. I have to credit the jerk, he killed the new Emperor personally and survived being charged by both enemy bodyguard units.)

After the siege of Nicaea Leopold rests uneasily in the Emperor's former chambers, dreaming of the bloody victory he should have had on the plains west of the city. He imagines himself in a duel with the man who, at best, mere hours before got word of the death of his father and of his assumption of the throne of what was left of Byzantium.


Leopold imagines himself honorably pausing for a moment to salute the dead horsemen from both armies piled high around him.

Then riding on alone as Byzantine cavalry flee his face in terror. None can stand against him this day!

He rechristens his army Leopold's Legion after this terrible slaughter, and his name is writ in history as the mail-fisted destroyer of Rome's final legacy when his spearmen encircle and butcher the fresh faced Byzantine prince.

Leopold the Fierce, Lion of Bavaria, Champion of the Danes, Destroyer of Rome they will call him!



As the dream fades Leopold imagines that even King Charles will bend knee and acknowledge him as the true ruler of the mighty Danish nation. At long last his run of ill luck will end, and his destiny will be fulfilled!

In the morning his wife slaps him awake from his drunken stupor and screams that his mad rages have driven off the servants again, he'll have to empty the chamber pots himself.