600 AD British Isles RP (IC, Closed)

[Southern Babylonia]

OOC:
OOC Thread
Chatroom
Map, updated around 9PM Atlantic Canada Time

Note: If for some odd reason you haven't read the rules over on the OOC, please click on the link to do so.

Have fun, and may the best n00b win!

IC:
King Knud I, his grey beard falling freely across his plump yet muscular chest and stomach, sat on the edge of his oak chair in the large moody meeting room where his guests were just beginning to take random places. Naturally, as was the old Lydian custom, he sat at the end of the table opposite the door. It was one of very few habits of the old Anatolian realm that had survived the centuries, that of demonstrating the hostly goodness not to make guests walk further than you to their seats. Though Knud was an old man, it was the least he could do to honour his ancestors.

And though he honoured them, he barely resembled them at all. His hair was long, dark, greying, oily, and most importantly had retreated from the top of his head,and now drooped down from below a bald spot, most uncharacteristic of the ancient Lydians. At a first guess he resembled a ruler of what would later be called Vikings, though this day he wore no crown. For the most part, the very symbol was entirely ceremonial to a leader of Jutes and Lydds. Contrary to his Aegean contemporaries, he had a long, equally greasy beard. Yet one thing remained: the simplicity of dress. The king wore a simple green tunic with a red rope as a belt, and baggy leather trousers dangling over his fur boots. attached to the side of his pants was an impressive iron dagger, with the family seal carved on the handle: a bear and a tiger, calmly and serenely holding a crown in their raised paws. Running through the crown was a Scottish broadsword, symbol of the new realm on a new landmass. This was all very grand, but Knud recognized it meant nothing without action. And there was much of that afoot; the council this day, January 3rd, 600 AD, was proof, as it had not been called in twenty years. This council was composed of all the high-ranking lords the king could assemble in time, including diplomats, magistrates, spies, generals, admirals, and governors. Once all were settled the king began.

"My friends," he commenced, sitting up a bit in his seat, "Many of you were here last time. Many weren't. Let us have a summary of what's happened since. Askàhh," he asked, looking at a clean-shaven Celt in military attire, "Could you speak to us on the state of the armed forces?"
"Certainly, sire," Askàhh replied, taking out a bit of parchment, "1,200 soldiers stand in at our immediate disposal. Having consulted with some of the lords, they believe that if war comes an other several thousand could be added within a couple upon demand within a matter of months, though they weren't specific. In general, we have approximately 700 infantry, 300 archers, and 200 cavalry, not to mention 35 ballistas and two catapults. As for the navy, I personally can't say much, but I can turn the question over to my friend, thane Cyrus of Lothian, high admiral of our fleet." The aforementioned Cyrus was quick to raise his deep raspy voice:
"Aye, we have at our disposal... 25 dragonboats, 30 cogs, 20 holks, and 40 karvs. Most are in dock, and the karvs being used as patrol vessels. I have little more to say."
"Excellent!" the king said in reply, lacking a stunning answer. "Yet there is one thing, and it is only a task partly for you, Lord Lothian. The other part is for... you, Kàno Achnourr." He was pointing to a young man of Pictish descent, clearly a diplomat. His beard was short and his hair sticking up strait. Quickly his lively blue eyes projected themselves at the elderly king.
"I will ask you, my friend," Knud continued, clearly looking at Kàno, "to go engage in diplomacy with the Arguborr, and write on their ways, especially at sea. Start with the smaller isolated areas, where the grasp of the king won't be as strong, for he may want to hide the knowledge. Then, when you fear his suspicion might be aroused, approach him with a proposition of trade. If he accepts, we mat have an ally on the way. If not, then we've at least bought some time to build up a small fleet in their style, should we need to fight them in the future. That, Cyrus, will be your responsibility."
Both men nodded, gave their king a last glare, then turned to their notes. Knud finally turned to a number of important foremen, all sitting in a corner silently discussing this and that.
"And you, I wish to see dirt roads built through all your respective areas, connecting every settlement with more than 100 souls. I'll divert whatever funds you require."
A small yet necessary note. The foremen acquiesced and returned to their talk.
"And finally, diplomats," he said, turning to the diplomatic ministers in general, "I need volunteers. Five for Ireland, five for England. You will go and gather information on the balance of power between the various kingdoms. Now first for Ireland. Who volunteers?"
Immediately five men raised their hands. The choices were fine by the king, as he barely new the men. The same with England.
"Very well then," the king said, before calling towards some servants:
"Break out the mead!"
Knud smiled. Now the real discussion could begin.

[Canadian Davsland]

Lief sat at a long tables with his advisers in Belfast. "I suggest we expand further into Ireland, and extend our influence ." said one adviser. "I agree to that, but we need to find out what the other kingdoms in this land are capable of." While the meeting was going on troops were being stationed near the borderlands, and were instructed to be prepared to invade central Ireland. At the end of the meeting Leif stood out among the people and declared: "Our Nordic society will stand for decades to come, and we shall be victorious over our enemies!" The people cheered loudly and chanted Leif over and over.

[Virenna]

Corcaigh, the Riocht of An Mhumhain

The port capital of the An Mhumhaini Celts was bustling as usual; the dreary rains of the past few days had subsided, and it was market day. As the bright sun spread its warming light, farmers brought their crops into the city walls as herders brought droves of cattle and sheep. Haggling could be heard throughout the populous city as merchants and commoners alike all strove to get the best bargain for their goods, surrounding the large and mostly connected wooden buildings of Corcaigh.

A great array of both practical and luxury wares were sold in the cramped stalls all along the city streets. Fish, meat, fresh bread, fine cloth, coarse wool, iron tools and weapons, beautiful crystals, golden jewelry and ornaments, slaves from the most recent raid- all could be bought and sold from the Irish-speaking Mhumhaini who owned the southlands. The two-horse marcath could barely make its way through the crowds despite the two formidable warriors riding the chariot. The driver wore a chain mail shirt while brandishing an ornate spear, and he also was prepared for close combat- the scabbard he wore was bejeweled with deep emeralds.

His companion displayed even more wealth. His burgandy tunic held intrinsic and elaborate Celtic designs of a deeper maroon, and his heavier woolen cloak colored blue had an equal share of unending knots and swirls, kept together with a solid gold broach. He only had a sword- but its scabbard was gilded in the brightest gold, and encrusted with finer emeralds than his guard. From its ivory handle alone, one could see it was expertly made. The man, a youthful and strong figure with brown hair and eyes, was Aimhirghan Banhba himself, Ri Ruirrech ("King of Kings") of An Mhumhain.

The chariot made its way to a massive stone building in the heart of the city; the palace was a bastion of power and wealth, its architecture beautiful yet sturdy at the same time. Warriors guarded the area from riffraff, and busy looking noblemen and women alike briskly carried out their business. All bowed in respect and reverence to their passing king. The Ri had just surveyed his lands, visiting distant provinces and the heartland alike, and now wished to deal with matters at home.

Stepping off the marcath, the Chief of Clan Babhba made his way into the great hall and stood atop his luxurious throne, court already in session with the massive room filled to the brim with entertainers, slaves, lords, and ladies. "Begin," he said calmly, expecting petitions and news of foreign lands. His steward, the Duic of Loch Garman, approached the center of the room and bowed before his liege before speaking. "Great Ri," he began, "I expect your survey went well? The treasury has never been more full, and the entire riocht is experiencing a prosperity never before seen." He smiled, awaiting the ri's reply.

"It did," he returned the smile, believing a ruler should able to approach from even the lowest subject. "An Mhumhain is secure. But what of our neighbors? I believe some diplomats from across the Eastern Sea have arrived, from the Kingdom of the Lydds?"

His chancellor was quick to reply. "Yes; I have them currently in the guest quarters, given the best hospitality we have to offer. Shall I request their presence?"

"Yes," Ri Aimhirghan said cheerfully, "I believe the Lydds across the sea could become great allies. Speaking of which- I believe we need some more closer to home. Have envoys sent to all the surrounding lands . And let my homecoming feast begin, of course!"

With that, musicians began to passionately play, and slaves began serving food and drink. The Riocht of An Mhumhain was experiencing a golden age. But could it last?

[Ralnis]

this is my first time doing this so please tell me if anything is wrong with it

Leridenon Falckson was was on his way to the Mirthoneik(House of Tribal Chambers) to see where the Mirr Quhalden where at in the point of progression for the Quhalden where still licking its wounds after Falckson had unified the land under his rule. As he entered the Mirthomeik there sit the eight tribal leaders of each province in the round table and looked at Falckson for he was young and ambitious,and thats what the tribal elders feared the most, but deep dwon they knew he real atleast repect there wisdom.

Falckson was young, no more than atleast 28 yrs but he looks older, hard living was normal living in the Mirr, Falckson before he was a leader was part of the Murrhulgen so of course he was a warror at heart and always wanted to fight,and as a leader he was no different. He war a leather jerkin with a blue sash with reptilian scales on it,and short trousers with his leather boots. A Zweihänder called the Dovagudren which was there sence the first ruler Ulfelagr the Blanted in 237 AD until he was killed by his son, and in return was posion by the first tribal leaders that also wanted power and threw the land into a civil war which lasted for centries till Falckson came and made what is today the Mirr Quhalden. Today , January 8, 600 AD, was to be marked in the country's history as known the Winter Moot, The Moot was comprise of the eight tribal leaders who had grand wisdom in there age, as Falckson sat down his seat the moot began.

Falckson began to speak with his gruted voice"Give me the State of the Mirr, all of it". One of the tribal leaders, Rostinav gave the status of the realm. Rostinav begain to clear his throat as he begins to speak" the econmy is booming with the slaves coming in through the rapid migration,but are harder to control because of this new religion, Christanity that has came to england centries ago.It has threaten the other kingdoms including ours". one of the leaders on the left of Rostinav, Orenlir had contined on from where Rostinav said." Then in order to keep our culture intact is either we fight or we die!" as Rostiinav hits the table with his fist in rage he contiunes."We have 1000 Murrhulgen,500 archers,and 500 of your neralorcora, and can raise more troops if needed, for our artillary we 25 ballistas and 3 catapults, and last our navy 25 raiders, 12 cogs and 10 holks,but they guard the only waterway in Mirr". Leridenon took a deep breath and smiled as he gave in order"prepare your tribes and sound the war drums for today we will crusade and unify england or die trying for the dragon lord is with us!"

[Southern Babylonia]

Corcaigh, the Riocht of An Mhumhain

The port capital of the An Mhumhaini Celts was bustling as usual; the dreary rains of the past few days had subsided, and it was market day. As the bright sun spread its warming light, farmers brought their crops into the city walls as herders brought droves of cattle and sheep. Haggling could be heard throughout the populous city as merchants and commoners alike all strove to get the best bargain for their goods, surrounding the large and mostly connected wooden buildings of Corcaigh.

A great array of both practical and luxury wares were sold in the cramped stalls all along the city streets. Fish, meat, fresh bread, fine cloth, coarse wool, iron tools and weapons, beautiful crystals, golden jewelry and ornaments, slaves from the most recent raid- all could be bought and sold from the Irish-speaking Mhumhaini who owned the southlands. The two-horse marcath, could barely make its way through the crowds despite the two formidable warriors riding the chariot. The driver wore a chain mail shirt while brandishing an ornate spear, and he also was prepared for close combat- the scabbard he wore was bejeweled with deep emeralds.

His companion displayed even more wealth. His burgandy tunic held intrinsic and elaborate Celtic designs of a deeper maroon, and his heavier woolen cloak colored blue had an equal share of unending knots and swirls, kept together with a solid gold broach. He only had a sword- but its scabbard was gilded in the brightest gold, and encrusted with finer emeralds than his guard. From its ivory handle alone, one could see it was expertly made. The man, a youthful and strong figure with brown hair and eyes, was Aimhirghan Banhba himself, Ri Ruirrech ("King of Kings") of An Mhumhain.

The chariot made its way to a massive stone building in the heart of the city; the palace was a bastion of power and wealth, its architecture beautiful yet sturdy at the same time. Warriors guarded the area from riffraff, and busy looking noblemen and women alike briskly carried out their business. All bowed in respect and reverence to their passing king. The Ri had just surveyed his lands, visiting distant provinces and the heartland alike, and now wished to deal with matters at home.

Stepping off the marcath, the Chief of Clan Babhba made his way into the great hall and stood atop his luxurious throne, court already in session with the massive room filled to the brim with entertainers, slaves, lords, and ladies. "Begin," he said calmly, expecting petitions and news of foreign lands. His steward, the Duic of Loch Garman, approached the center of the room and bowed before his liege before speaking. "Great Ri," he began, "I expect your survey went well? The treasury has never been more full, and the entire riocht is experiencing a prosperity never before seen." He smiled, awaiting the ri's reply.

"It did," he returned the smile, believing a ruler should able to approach from even the lowest subject. "An Mhumhain is secure. But what of our neighbors? I believe some diplomats from across the Eastern Sea have arrived, from the Kingdom of the Lydds?"

His chancellor was quick to reply. "Yes; I have them currently in the guest quarters, given the best hospitality we have to offer. Shall I request their presence?"

"Yes," Ri Aimhirghan said cheerfully, "I believe the Lydds across the sea could become great allies. Speaking of which- I believe we need some more closer to home. Have envoys sent to all the surrounding lands . And let my homecoming feast begin, of course!"

With that, musicians began to passionately play, and slaves began serving food and drink. The Riocht of An Mhumhain was experiencing a golden age. But could it last?

Corcaigh, An Mhumhain
Ulyssin Valerion and Ìzn Ìzahborr, selected to represent king Knud at the court of the Ri, stood ready to enter his presence. An odd match, they were; Ulyssin, standing at only 5' 8'', was a proud Lydian, almost a puritan Greek, and a strong worshipper of Zeus. At 30, his complexion was still splashed by youthful vigour, indicating the black-haired man was still opened to persuasion. The same could not be said for the ageing Ìzn. A Celt himself, he worshipped the Celtic gods, spoke the Celtic language, and lived in the Celtic ways. Yet both proudly wore the same symbol on their capes: the coat of arms of the united kingdom. It resembled the colours of the kings family in several ways; it again included the serene bear and tiger, this time holding instead of a crown the olive tree on which the crown was perched. The same broadsword passed down the middle, and on top of it, carved in a slate of oak, the words: "Ingen sværd uden håndtag, Ignen rige uden kong."*

Upon seeing the king, Ulyssin felt a relatively minor chill in his spine. Not at his physique as much as at his apparent wealth: Golden scabbard engraved with deep emeralds and a handle of a material he knew only by name to be ivory, lavishly armoured guards, numerous slaves... he knew his own homeland to have this wealth, but the king preferred to live in humbler abode, and put the treasures of the realm towards improving its state. Ìzn, however, was completely unaware that some kings lived in this luxury. He had only ever negotiated with the Picts to the north, and had never travelled south of the united kingdom. Not sure what to do, he decided to imitate Ulyssin. When the latter bowed, Ìzn did the same. Then Ulyssin spoke:
"Blessings of Zeus be upon you, great Ri, and on behalf of the United kingdom of the Jutes and the Lydds, I wish good relations between our two realms. Our lord, King Knud, sends you tidings of trade in the future, should you so will it. we have many goods to exchange, and fierce warriors to aid you in the event of war." Ulyssin then awaited an answer from the Ri. He could only hope he had spoken well.

*OOC: Danish for "No sword without handle, No kingdom without king"

[Shnercropolis]

Kingindorn, Duír Cliffres

Cliffe Honnen woke up to another foggy morning. After putting his clothes on, he went outside, where the campfire of the last night's watch was burning low. The guard he posted outside his house was almost asleep, and never noticed when Cliffe snuck past him and went outside.

Cliffe's house was actually inside a large wall and tower complex, known as Kingindorn by the people of Duír Cliffres. It was basically a large square walled-in area, with towers on each corner. These walls housed a large village, with a population of around 500. More or less in the center of this all was a smaller walled-in area, which contained the main keep and the King's luxurious house.

Cliffe hugged his cloak to himself as he walked from his house to the keep. He was expected to be at the keep's grand hall every morn for the council, so he could lead his people. Today there would probably be very little to discuss, as with every day; the Duír Cliffres lived a very humdrum life, with litte to disturb them. The fishermen fished, the farmers farmed, the herders herded, the hunters hunted. Very little changed.

Cliffe entered the grand hall, and was greeted by the tribal council. The dozen or so old men all sat around a table, eyeing him levelly. They bid him seat. Cliffe was a man in his mere twenties, so it was his place to respect his elders. Cliffe sat down comfortably in the large oak chair at the head of the table. He then called to the keeper of affairs, Fergund. The keeper of affairs was the man in charge of delivering as much information as possible to the King and council. There were actually three keepers of affairs, each one of them working at different times of the day and night to make sure there was always a keeper of affairs on duty. Fergund stepped forward and gave his long list of problems with the Kingdom. Cliffe mostly ignored them, the council would blather amongst themselves and resolve most of it. However, one thing caught Cliffe's attention. "Furthermore, there are whispers of war in Ireland. The Kingdoms around us are preparing their armies, and their courts are filled more and more with talk of war. It seems our neighbors are eager to expand." He then dove back into numbers and accounting, and CLiffe stopped listening once more.

The council didn't last very long. The elders dithered, until he was finally asked to make decisions. He would say what he was sure would offend the least amount of people. Finally, he called for silence.
"If the other countries of Ireland wish to invade us, I want to be ready. I ask for the tribes' blessing for their brave sons fight for glory and honor protecting their homeland." The elders gave a few longwinded speeches that essentially amounted to "yes", and Cliffe dismissed them all. He then went outside, finally free from the council meeting.

The fog had burned off somewhat, and now it was windy and overcast. He would summon the armies later today, for now he needed the arms of his wives.

[Kazarogkai]

Old Stone Castle,
Kingdom of Arguborr
King Kalvin Vac Togg

King Kalvin Vac Togg woke up from bed, he got out of bed and rubbed his long curly red hair. Going over to the balcony of his Castle he looked to the rising sun of the east and then turned around and looked at his wife who lay in their bed as she rested peacefully. her skin was white as snow, except her cheeks which were scarlet, her eyes were large and brown hair black and wavy going down to her curved hips over her large bosom her lips were pink. She looked so beautiful and Kalvin simply smiled for he had such beauty all for himself, he in comparison was rather ugly but she did not mind too much. He went to his wife, her name was Danielle, and cupping her cheek in his hands kissed her on her lips she moved a little and smiled but did not wake. He looked down beside her and saw his little Lasses Rosemary and Yvonne, they were cute and looked very similar to their mother. The difference between the 2 was noticeable enough Rosemary Had longer hair than Yvonne but was about half a foot shorter and had very red lips, Yvonne's most noticeable characteristic was her mouth which was flubbered always seeming to be open all the time, when she talked if she got overly excited would talk rather rapidly and it would be difficult to understand, they were both 6 years old. the kissed them both in the cheeks and left, he went to a room next to this one it was the wardrobe filled with many clothes and shoes and even his Armour, most of the shoes and clothes were his daughter's off course. He took his Main costume, used for the daily purification ritual his people performed at least twice a day sometimes more if they felt they were exposed to any bad spirits and/or their "Essences". They were quite simple some white flax pants and trousers with tan sandals, one must be modest for the purification ceremony. He went inside the Purity room wearing nothing but carrying his ritual clothes He began the simple ceremony washing his body thoroughly after that was done he got a Chewing stick and rubbed his teeth till they were sufficiently cleaned. Afterwards putting on his ritual clothes he went outside and into a room that had walls filled with names, names of past ancestors, a few statues were around people known as paragons in their time for great deeds done in life recognized in death. He went and lighted the candles situated in a small circular shrine, he rubbed the water that was within the shrine upon his face said a little prayer and then left. He went Back to the Wardrobe, finished with the purification ceremony and honoring the ancestors. He put on his new clothes consisting of a Blue flax shirt, Red flax pants, Dark-Green Wool Cloak, Black Sash, dark brown leather riding boots, Wide Brimmed black hat, Leather scabbard decorated with red designs sword and all, and a wool striped scarf. Kalvin Ha an important meeting with the lords this month known as "The Landsmeet" in these areas, he waited with anticipation for it was an important time, in the mean time he needed to go to breakfast. Kalvin walked out of the wardrobe and saw his Young Lass Rosemary was awoke, she saw him as she got out of bed. Rosemary yawned and smiled at her father, she walked up to him and put her hands up to him. Kalvin Picked her right up and gave here an affectionate kiss in the lips, she chuckled a little and asked him

"Papa Will I see you at breakfast?"
"yes dear, once you get dressed up you only have your gown on."
"OK, I will dress up"

She climbed down off him and went over to the wardrobe, she said a "Bye,Bye" as she left. Andrew went downstairs and saw the servants tending to the place. He went to the kitchen and engorged his nose in the fresh scents of different meats mostly beef, Cheeses, Mushrooms, Vegetables, some fruits, smoked fish, and finally the spices ohh they made his nose tingle. He was in a state of almost ecstasy from the different foods, he loved food very dearly, he heard the water boil and meat be chopped the veggies sliced the fish crackling. Kalvin went outside and looked at the garden with its many trees and flowers, the air smelt fresh after the heavy rain last night and there was even 2 rainbows, Rainbows were considered lucky.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

General John the Mighty sat down as the generals came together on this routine meeting.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Now, let's discuss the routines:

"Army?"
"Yes Sir, the military recruitment pool is on its way," said Colonel John Lackluster, Head of Recruitment.

"Economy?"
"Yes, the economy expansion is on its way, the resources, however, since we lack proper tools, we only can extract a little bit everyday." said Colonel James Lackluster, Head of Economy.

"I see, anyway, I have looked for the kingdom's informations, and it seems that The Riocht of An Mhumhain will become our new ally. Toto, send diplomats to the An Mhumhain, and see if they want to discuss about military and trade alliance. We both must be in need of the resources." said John the Mighty to his trusted tactician, Collin "Toto" Lackluster.

The tactician nodded, and went back to discuss the current diplomatic step with the diplomats, and thus, the routine meeting is over.

John said:

"I think we must increased our army..."

[Ralnis]

In The War Room
Leridenon Falckson,Mirr Quhalden,

Falckson was in his war room with a map to begin his campaign to unify England under the Mirr, with him was the leading general and head of the neralorcora, Ulfintic, had a map of England and the isles surronding it that the surronding kingdoms that had also habit the aswell


As Falckson order Ulfintic" I want you to take the southeast region that borders us and the Kvillic Kingdom, there should be only 250 local fighters and there walls should be to sturdy, so i want you to take 500 Murrhulgen,340 archers,250 neralorcora, and atleast 2 catapults. There should not be any naval resistence but I will send you 5 cogs to blockade the ports, but do not destroy them! They will be needed to bolister our local naval presence"

Ulfintic responded" Yes sir, i will ready the men and will prepare to march by twilight, and the chamberlain said that the diplomat form the United kingdom of the Jutes and the Lydds is here to speak to you" Ulfintic bowed and left the war room
Falckson was grinning as he heard the news"Scotland, this is should be intresting to hear"

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

"Sir, the diplomats from United Kingdom of Jutes and Lydds has been arrived from one hour ago, and they now waiting for your presence in the meeting room," said Collin to General John.

"Ah, Collin, talk with them, and built a military and trading alliance with them. Currently, I'll have a meeting with the military about the plan to expand our army's capabilities."

"Yes, Sir."

---------------------------------

The diplomats and the minister of foreign affairs talked to each other, barely showed any signs of disappointment. The alliance was finally reached, and now, The United Militia Empire waited for the response.

Meanwhile, fishes, and irons, had been extracted from sea and from the mines, and has been sent to the blacksmiths and traders in order to produce more pitchforks, longbows, and food.

[Glasgia]

Am Faiollach, 1387 gun Tuatha
Duin Fother

Ciniod twirled the dagger in his fingers. Its blade was finely crafted, carefully created over time by a Bryton blacksmith. They'd given it to him as a present, asking to leave their people alone. He had taken the dagger, turned around and sliced the elder's throat in half. Usually, he would've had more restraint in raiding. His men stole, looted and plundered, but they were honourable and never killed an unarmed citizen. Despite this, they were hated. An oarman had taken leave to deal with a matter of his lands, but him and a friend were murdered in the night by villagers. Ciniod had relished the flames as they soared up, the sweet revenge consuming townsman and building alike.

That was behind him now. He had been elected Brude Ar of the Pictish peoples, a title he would not forget. Now he had power, power that could not be wasted on raiding. One of the things it could be wasted on was before him.

Crois-marchach Wind-rider to you, she was the figurehead of the fleet. What the Danes would call a dragonship in another universe, she was sleek and long with a large rectangular sail. A bear’s head was carved into the masthead, ready to be dyed. Another 10 would be built just like her, though maybe smaller and less furnished. They were quicker and faster than any other fleet in Europe, or at least that was what the shipbuilders had told Ciniod. Each could take 40 men and together they would hold the entirety of Kay's army. They would be a force, not just by land but by sea too.

Eventually turned to boredom by the slow process of lowering the boat’s sides, Ciniod wandered off to his arena. Situated on the edge of the town, many mock battles were held there and it was where feuds would be settled by duel. Reaching the perimeter, he picked up a crude wooden sword and a battered shield. They may have been used by commoners before, but that did not bother Ciniod. He was a ruler, not a rich aristocrat who spent his days wasting time and money. Nodding to the arena master, he dived in.

The presence of their Brude Ar immediately alerted those fighting. Some gathered to fight with him, while others looked to the glory of being the one who defeated their monarch. Ciniod laughed and lunged forward. The target of his trust took the blunt blade on his shield, but he was off balance and a shove from Ciniod knocked him to the ground. The Brude Ar was in his element now, slicing and hacking. He could remain like this until duty called.

Midday

The small council crowded into the hall. They all wore fine clothes, tunics and robes bought with the privileges of their power. Any weapons had been left with the watchmen and now they waited. Finally, Ciniod emerged.

Of course, duty always called. The men he had made Toiseach now looked to Ciniod to start their meeting. They would moan on about tax, soldiers, diplomacy and the common people for hours to come. However, before that, they could feast.

“Gentlemen, I bring you here to debate the matters of the realm. You can quarrel and scrap to your heart’s content, but first I must bring you hospitality as your host.” Ciniod raised his mead horn in the air and various meats were brought out, followed by exotic fruits and recipes learnt from foreign merchants.

After the feast, they talked. Though it was mainly disagreement, a few things were agreed upon: that taxes should be lowered in all towns, to create patrols along the coastline to protect merchants and the need for trade agreements or alliances. The latter argument was not finished though, as that descended into who would be the best to ally with.

Evening

"Guards halt! Present spears!" The guardsmen were all Diuberr and they braced their spears upwards to form a small path for the Lydian ambassador to pass through. As he walked, all eyes in the fort were upon him. At the end of this route, Nieln stood. He was the monarch's chancellor, a job usually given to the more experienced of those who ran the royal estates. However, Nieln was still fairly young at 34 and he showed it. A youthful face greeted the ambassador with a smile, friendly on the outside yet calculating on the inside. His tartan tunic flowed down to his knees, where leather boots covered his feet from the frost. On his belt was a short sword, evidence of his days as a warrior in the Brude Ar's household troops.

“Welcome my friend; I trust you have had a peaceful journey. What brings you here?”

[Shnercropolis]

Kingindorn

It was the middle of the day, and Cliffe was in the training yard with his army. They were all accomplished hunters, none much older than Cliffe, and they knew most of the tactics: lie low, kill silently, and leave without a trace. The training yard was a large field outside Kingindorn, with fairly short(foot-high) grass. The soldiers used the age-old secret of covering themselves in wet rags to keep off the ticks, but some occasionally would find their way in. The soldiers fought with blunted wooden dirks and arrows, and would try to sneak up on each other. Oftentimes the children of the village would come out and play in the field across the path for part of the day, but the soldiers would keep it up for hours until there was only one person standing.

Cliffe Honnen had about 600 soldiers in his permanent employment. They were considered the elite of the army, because they were expected to train every other day rather than the usual once a week of the tribal armies(and the chiefs did not enforce that rule very often). Since Cliffe had called the Duír Cliffres to defense, though, the numbers had soared to around 1,500. The new recruits were training in other fields around Kingindorn. However, most of those recruits were needed back at home to help their families at their farms, so they would march back home for a few days at a time and then march back to Kingindorn for a few days. It had been Cliffe's idea to do this, so the newer recruits became fitter and better at war, they could still go home to their families and help at the farms, and they would keep the areas near the borders protected. People from areas near Kingindorn had to go on patrol marches around the frontiers, so they would in fact never come to Kingindorn, but rather go to the borders to train then back home. Of course, the ten castles were managed by the tribes, so Cliffe had no idea how many guards and soldiers they had.

[Ralnis]

In the Mirr Quhalden, Falckson was getting impatient because he wanted to get the meeting with the diplomat over with but want his most trust general,Ulfintic from expanding the realm for the Mirr. As he was handling the current state of affairs like he always had, something caught his attention when a messenger came with some wrothwhile information.

"My Leader, I have a letter from General Ulfintic" the messenger said kneel and as he hand Falckson with the Royal Draconic seal and Falckson opened it and it read
My Dear Leader
I have mangae to capture the capital of the province but at the expanse of atleast 89 of our Murrhulgen but we overwhelmed there defenses and cut off there supplies with the blockade.The people where resliant but, even as we take the capital, we still blockakde the ports and use are own muntions to feed our troops. So, I will be back for the meeting in 3 weeks when the region has concede to the Mirr.
With honor,
General Ulfintic
Falckson saw this he was smiling."Finally, we make our first mark in the history of this land that we are its masters! You! Tell the chamberlin to prepare for the meeting in 3 weeks so we can finally meet with that the diplomat that is so eagerly to speak to me"

[Southern Babylonia]

OOC: I'll be addressing KGG separately.

IC:

Evening

"Guards halt! Present spears!" The guardsmen were all Diuberr and they braced their spears upwards to form a small path for the Lydian ambassador to pass through. As he walked, all eyes in the fort were upon him. At the end of this route, Nieln stood. He was the monarch's chancellor, a job usually given to the more experienced of those who ran the royal estates. However, Nieln was still fairly young at 34 and he showed it. A youthful face greeted the ambassador with a smile, friendly on the outside yet calculating on the inside. His tartan tunic flowed down to his knees, where leather boots covered his feet from the frost. On his belt was a short sword, evidence of his days as a warrior in the Brude Ar's household troops.

“Welcome my friend; I trust you have had a peaceful journey. What brings you here?”

Olaf Tyskholm, standing relaxed yet courteously, couldn't help but feel slight amusement at the glare of the people around the fort. Naturally, it was to be expected; as a frequent traveller, he sometimes forgot that most people stayed and worked their turf most of their lives. A sad fate in his opinion. Whatever the virtues of a semi-nomadic life such as his, he was not here to debate philosophy. The king had sent him on a mission. Without further due, his baritone voice begun the necessary rhetoric:
"Blessings of Zeus be upon you, my friends. I thank you for your precious time. Indeed, my journey was pleasant, thank you." Olaf turned weary; the man in front of him seemed to be of some power. If he were to seriously make an assault on their personal view of each other, a potential alliance might be thrown away by mere foolishness. Without any visible haste, he moved on:
"But I am not here to exchange niceties, as much as you are deserving: I must rather convey to you a message from my king, Knud I of the Jutes and the Lydds." In defiance of official diplomatic protocol, Olaf used the shortened term "Lydds" as opposed to the formal "Lydians," mainly to prevent the common situation that a diplomat should seem too aloof. "The king has heard of your reputation as fierce warriors and would like to inform you that he would show interest in a military and commercial alliance. Combined, we could unite Scotland and rule as its true and rightful leaders." Olaf hoped that last statement wasn't a step too far. If the Picts and the Arguborr had any plans for an alliance of their own, the chances of friendly relations were a relic of the past. To soften it up, he decided to interject a question:
"But tell me, friend, what goods would your people be willing to trade with us?"

[Glasgia]

OOC: I'll be addressing KGG separately.

IC:

Evening

"Guards halt! Present spears!" The guardsmen were all Diuberr and they braced their spears upwards to form a small path for the Lydian ambassador to pass through. As he walked, all eyes in the fort were upon him. At the end of this route, Nieln stood. He was the monarch's chancellor, a job usually given to the more experienced of those who ran the royal estates. However, Nieln was still fairly young at 34 and he showed it. A youthful face greeted the ambassador with a smile, friendly on the outside yet calculating on the inside. His tartan tunic flowed down to his knees, where leather boots covered his feet from the frost. On his belt was a short sword, evidence of his days as a warrior in the Brude Ar's household troops.

“Welcome my friend; I trust you have had a peaceful journey. What brings you here?”

Olaf Tyskholm, standing relaxed yet courteously, couldn't help but feel slight amusement at the glare of the people around the fort. Naturally, it was to be expected; as a frequent traveller, he sometimes forgot that most people stayed and worked their turf most of their lives. A sad fate in his opinion. Whatever the virtues of a semi-nomadic life such as his, he was not here to debate philosophy. The king had sent him on a mission. Without further due, his baritone voice begun the necessary rhetoric:
"Blessings of Zeus be upon you, my friends. I thank you for your precious time. Indeed, my journey was pleasant, thank you." Olaf turned weary; the man in front of him seemed to be of some power. If he were to seriously make an assault on their personal view of each other, a potential alliance might be thrown away by mere foolishness. Without any visible haste, he moved on:
"But I am not here to exchange niceties, as much as you are deserving: I must rather convey to you a message from my king, Knud I of the Jutes and the Lydds." In defiance of official diplomatic protocol, Olaf used the shortened term "Lydds" as opposed to the formal "Lydians," mainly to prevent the common situation that a diplomat should seem too aloof. "The king has heard of your reputation as fierce warriors and would like to inform you that he would show interest in a military and commercial alliance. Combined, we could unite Scotland and rule as its true and rightful leaders." Olaf hoped that last statement wasn't a step too far. If the Picts and the Arguborr had any plans for an alliance of their own, the chances of friendly relations were a relic of the past. To soften it up, he decided to interject a question:
"But tell me, friend, what goods would your people be willing to trade with us?"

Zeus. Nieln had forgotten that their neighbours worshipped foreign gods, brought with them from the lands of Greece. Why they had left to come to cold, wet Caledonia was beyond him.

"My people are rich in many metals, as great mines frequent our land. We can also provide timber, a useful material, and various grains, including the alcohol produced from them. However, if you want to negotiate I would do so with my master." Nieln nodded at a servant who rushed off to interrupt the council.

Gartnait bowed to his superiors as he entered the hall. They all turned to see why a simple servant boy would dare burst into their meeting.

"An ambassador has arrived, my highness. He awaits you in the courtyard, having travelled from the Kingdom of the Jutes and the Lydians." Ciniod chuckled at the news. He had just been discussing the possibility of an alliance with the king of what used to be Alt Clut and Goddodin.

"Tell him to come inside, I am interested to hear what he has to say." Gartnait bowed again and walked back outside.

"Ciniod, Brude of Kay and Brude Ar of the United Picts, welcomes you to his hall. He asks for your immediate presence inside." Gartnait motioned for the diplomats to follow him and they made their way to the great hall.

[Southern Babylonia]

OOC: I'll be addressing KGG separately.

IC:


Olaf Tyskholm, standing relaxed yet courteously, couldn't help but feel slight amusement at the glare of the people around the fort. Naturally, it was to be expected; as a frequent traveller, he sometimes forgot that most people stayed and worked their turf most of their lives. A sad fate in his opinion. Whatever the virtues of a semi-nomadic life such as his, he was not here to debate philosophy. The king had sent him on a mission. Without further due, his baritone voice begun the necessary rhetoric:
"Blessings of Zeus be upon you, my friends. I thank you for your precious time. Indeed, my journey was pleasant, thank you." Olaf turned weary; the man in front of him seemed to be of some power. If he were to seriously make an assault on their personal view of each other, a potential alliance might be thrown away by mere foolishness. Without any visible haste, he moved on:
"But I am not here to exchange niceties, as much as you are deserving: I must rather convey to you a message from my king, Knud I of the Jutes and the Lydds." In defiance of official diplomatic protocol, Olaf used the shortened term "Lydds" as opposed to the formal "Lydians," mainly to prevent the common situation that a diplomat should seem too aloof. "The king has heard of your reputation as fierce warriors and would like to inform you that he would show interest in a military and commercial alliance. Combined, we could unite Scotland and rule as its true and rightful leaders." Olaf hoped that last statement wasn't a step too far. If the Picts and the Arguborr had any plans for an alliance of their own, the chances of friendly relations were a relic of the past. To soften it up, he decided to interject a question:
"But tell me, friend, what goods would your people be willing to trade with us?"

Zeus. Nieln had forgotten that their neighbours worshipped foreign gods, brought with them from the lands of Greece. Why they had left to come to cold, wet Caledonia was beyond him.

"My people are rich in many metals, as great mines frequent our land. We can also provide timber, a useful material, and various grains, including the alcohol produced from them. However, if you want to negotiate I would do so with my master." Nieln nodded at a servant who rushed off to interrupt the council.

Gartnait bowed to his superiors as he entered the hall. They all turned to see why a simple servant boy would dare burst into their meeting.

"An ambassador has arrived, my highness. He awaits you in the courtyard, having travelled from the Kingdom of the Jutes and the Lydians." Ciniod chuckled at the news. He had just been discussing the possibility of an alliance with the king of what used to be Alt Clut and Goddodin.

"Tell him to come inside, I am interested to hear what he has to say." Gartnait bowed again and walked back outside.

"Ciniod, Brude of Kay and Brude Ar of the United Picts, welcomes you to his hall. He asks for your immediate presence inside." Gartnait motioned for the diplomats to follow him and they made their way to the great hall.

Brude? Olaf had heard the word before. It was still used by some of the regional chiefs who fancied themselves powerful in ways rivalling the king. This time, however, the native Dane sensed that this man Ciniod truly did.
Eager to meet with the leader of the greatest force on the Caledonian mainland north of the United Kingdom, he was quick to make the requested entrance. While attempting not to seem rushed, he was truly exited. Remembering to bow before the lord of the Picts, he allowed his discourse to slip out fairly uncontrolled.
"Greetings, your highness," he began. After noting the surprise of the chancellor at hearing the name of Zeus, he decided that before the Brude, he would save any theological rhetoric for a later point in their meeting. "I apologize for interrupting you, but I am on a mission for Knud I, king of the Jutes and the Lydians. He wishes to inform you that he is interesting an allying with the High Kingdom of Kay, and believes that if we are truly to be rulers of the Scotians we must increase trade, not only of goods but of ideals. We have much to share in both fields. But first, I understand our history and our coming here less than thirty years ago remains shady. As a historian, would you wish for me to... fill in the blanks?"

Royal court, May 2nd, 600

A pleasant srping breeze filled the salty air in the city of Zeusborg. Seagulls filled the cloudless sky like pellets of coal in clear water. While awaiting the return of the diplomats, king Knud was planning a minor assault on the Lowland Celts. For this, he had acted after due consideration with his strategists, generals and admirals. All agreed that should the Arguborr become suspicious, raids might begin to occur on the strip of coastline allowing the Lydian navy to access the Irish Sea without having to go all the way around Scotland. Regardless of what happened with the natives to the north-west, the admirals demanded a more direct port for martial influence, the merchants for trade. Knud had decided that though not crucial in any way, this port would be a definite strategic bonus. As he was studying a map he had been able to procure depicting the region, Harald Hansen, the general assigned the task of seizing the province, rush up the majestic steps of solid oak towards the open palace. The king, decided not to make the good man run, approached him calmly with the classic laugh of an old man with a clear conscience. Why he laughed he knew little, but it gave him a sense of security, possibly authority. "What makes you run?" he asked now simply smiling behind his beard.
"Oh, just, erm... practising... you know, battle and all, lots of running..." In truth, Harald had no idea what made him run. Nothing was urgent. Nonetheless, he began:
"Well, I've consulted the strategists and they estimate the defending tribes will only be able to field a couple hundred men at the most. If I were to take 500, I believe they could be crushed with minimal casualties."
Knud pondered this. His generals were always liberal when stating how many troops they needed. 500 men was no insignificant force, and in truth, it was most likely that only a maximum of a hundred tribesmen would come to the defence of their lands. In fact, for some of the smaller kingdoms to the south, it would be more than their entire army! With a touch of sternness, he answered:
"I'll give you two hundred and fifty. Choose what men you will and have them amassed within two months."
The general sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get 500 anyway, but he'd decided to aim high. 250 would be enough to capture the province. He nodded and took his leave.

OOC: Jsyk, I'm targeting the little province south of my southernmost one, bordering the Irish Sea. Next post will be my losses and gains along with more stuff.

[Kazarogkai]

Southern border,
Kingdom of Arguborr

The Arguborr border guardsmen looked at the man with suspicion atop their horses(Arguborr horses are pretty small but never the less) and asked him, what his business was. There were 10 guardsmen 5 with pikes 5 with bows, they were equipped just like any Arguborr marine would be, their leather Jerkins nice and brown, their heads having the hat unique to Arguborr men known as the Tam o' Shanter. The man they noticed was quite tall, similar to other men who lived outside of their borders Arguborr people in general were quite small the average man was only 5'0 tall, the average woman was 4'4. But this did not bother the Arguborr for this land it was beneficial to have their body type(short and stocky) for it could get quite cold and this land was mountainous(especially the land that lied upon the mainland) so being short and having a low center of gravity helped in climbing. They looked upon the man from another land and waited for him to give them an answer, they admittedly lowered their guard slightly for he did not seem threatening and of ill intentions.

[Lymantatia]

May 2, 600 AD, city of Capatala, the capital of Kivillia.

King Tavala and Queen Maria was surprised for the day to come. The day was to summon the Agavana with this phrase:

Agavana, Agavana, vacara ata ayara. Inopeta tota ciyona nosa conotara.

In English

Agavana, Agavana, summon to the air. Attack all who we oppose.

The Agavana arrive and one of them say "Whereto?/Ove Ata?"
Tavala showed them a book named "Family Names of Kivilia of 600/Familiya Nomena Civiliya da 600" and on a page it reads:
Familiya da Vila da Acadiya
*Abavana
*Acalana
*Agolana
*Alava
*Avina
Tavala picks the Alava family of Acadiya. He says "Familiya da Alava da Acadiya". The Agavana ride on horses to Acadiya.

May 3, 600, Acadiya

The Agavana try to find the Alava family. They realize that each house has the name of the family owning the house written on the house's sign. They find the house of Alava. The family is Ivano (born July 30, 585), Silvo (born February 2, 582), Margareta (born September 3, 581), Ricardo (born March 2, 555) and Maria (born July 10, 560).

[Ralnis]

It was may 4, 600 AD, and Ulfintic came back after the conquest of the southeastern region that borders the Mirrs,s only waterway and the kivillivic kingdom(sorry if I misspell the name) and there was still the matter of the ambassador from the United Kingdom of Jutes and Lydians,and Falckson decided that he would but that on top of his list of things to do and he order his chaberlin to tell the diplomat to wait for him and General Ulfintic in the throne hall to discuss at midday for it was custom to do so in the Mirr.
Midday
May 4,600 AD
As the ambassador came to the throne hall, there was Falckson sitting on and thrine made of oak and beside him stood General Ulfintic and two Murrhulgen weilding braodswords on there backs that stand guard and protect there leader and Falckson decided to start the meeting saying "welcome to the Mirr Quhalden man of Zeus, my appolgies for the delay, as you can see we just came from expandng our coastal region to ensure our negibors do not get an upper hand on us, so now that I have time to speak, what can I do for King Kud today?"

[Virenna]

Corcaigh, An Mhumhain

"Tell your great King that I share his hopes and that we shall become steadfast allies," Ri Aimhirghan said kindly and quickly, not having to contemplate the decision. He knew the power of the Lydds; they had conquered the Scots quite easily, eliminating the An Mhumhaini's fellow Celtic rivals. He knew he did not want a new enemy in its place.

"Lydd and Jute merchants will continue to trade freely in my riocht, and I trust my people will have the same in yours," the ri continued, "but do not simply leave now; please, stay in Corcaigh for the week, take in its sights, sounds, smells- I will provide you with all the luxuries you would expect at home, and perhaps some more."

Other than being a generous host, Aimhirghan knew the diplomats would rely the tales of his lands' splendor to their liege, and convince the man that it would be a worthwhile alliance. The An Mhumhaini leader needed more than simply words; he truly wished their lands would provide military aid as well as wealth to each other, with all the rising powers of the region causing tensions.

[Shnercropolis]

Outside Susurrendy, Duír Cliffres
A single man, along with a few guards, was walking along the path from the hamlet of Limerick. He was obviously of some wealth, with a fancy black leather tunic and a black cloak with golden embroidering. His guards wore Mumhain armor, and had well-made weapons. They walked through the path on the fields, with untamed wilds and fog as far as they could see. There was no sound to be heard except a few birds chirping and the guards' armor clinking. The man was looking at a map, which showed all the castles in The land of the Duír Cliffres.

There was a bit of rustling in the bushes behind them, and the guards turned to look. There were around 20 men emerging from the tall grass behind them, garbed in leather and carrying two dirks each. They advanced quickly, and the guards turned to face their presumed assailants. They were soon taken from ahead as another contingent of 20 men came up from the front, ringing them in. The guards had their spears and swords out, with the man in the middle. He was a Mumhain ambassador, hoping to speak with the King. After the attackers stood around for awhile, one stepped forward. He said to the ambassador, "Who are you?"

The ambassador said, seemingly unafraid, "I am an ambassador of the people of Mumhain, to the South, here to see your King. Who are you?" This seemed to strike the man as odd. He said, "Well, pardon us, we were just on a patrol and spotted you. I assume you want passage to Kingindorn?" The ambassador nodded. The man, obviously in charge, yelled, "Alright! We're to escort this fine gentleman to Kingindorn. Let's form up and march, eh?" The men all shouted "Aye!" and got into formation on the way up and down the trail. They started off at a swift pace, and made it to Kingindorn late that night, exhausted.

[Lymantatia]

May 4, 600, Acadiya
Ricardo questions "So you are Agavana?". One of the Agavana say "Yes." That persons says "I am Agavana Vento Nicolo Valerio". Ricardo says "Agavana Vento?". Nicolo Valerio says "It is a Agavana ranking. Uno is the lowest. Vento is the highest." Ricardo says "Why are you here?". Nicolo Valerio says "The king has selected your family to be who we are staying at." Ricardo says "I am Ricardo. This is my wife Maria, my daughter Margareta, and my sons Ivano and Silvo". Nicolo Valerio says "Maria? Margareta? Ivano? Silvo?". Ricardo says "Yes. My house is your house for a few years."

[Glasgia]

Brude? Olaf had heard the word before. It was still used by some of the regional chiefs who fancied themselves powerful in ways rivalling the king. This time, however, the native Dane sensed that this man Ciniod truly did.
Eager to meet with the leader of the greatest force on the Caledonian mainland north of the United Kingdom, he was quick to make the requested entrance. While attempting not to seem rushed, he was truly exited. Remembering to bow before the lord of the Picts, he allowed his discourse to slip out fairly uncontrolled.
"Greetings, your highness," he began. After noting the surprise of the chancellor at hearing the name of Zeus, he decided that before the Brude, he would save any theological rhetoric for a later point in their meeting. "I apologize for interrupting you, but I am on a mission for Knud I, king of the Jutes and the Lydians. He wishes to inform you that he is interesting an allying with the High Kingdom of Kay, and believes that if we are truly to be rulers of the Scotians we must increase trade, not only of goods but of ideals. We have much to share in both fields. But first, I understand our history and our coming here less than thirty years ago remains shady. As a historian, would you wish for me to... fill in the blanks?"

Ciniod examined the Lydian. He seemed excited, though his deep voice did a good job of hiding it. He didn't give too much away at all, though his accent was not Greek or Brythonnic. Likely a Dane then. In his choice of words, he was likely awed by the presence of so many powerful men, and woman for the Prythen had no discrimination, in a single hall. Your highness.

"Indeed friend, I know little of your arrival upon this cursed isle. I would be most intrigued by your tale, as I have not met many of your people, especially not the legendary King Knud." Ciniod spoke in Danish, a language easy enough to learn after negotiating with the other Germanic tribes. It always interested him to speak with merchants as they sold their wares and it had come in use multiple times. As for the legends of King Knud, they did not exist but a foreigner would not know that and it was a compliment not an insult.

[Southern Babylonia]

Brude? Olaf had heard the word before. It was still used by some of the regional chiefs who fancied themselves powerful in ways rivalling the king. This time, however, the native Dane sensed that this man Ciniod truly did.
Eager to meet with the leader of the greatest force on the Caledonian mainland north of the United Kingdom, he was quick to make the requested entrance. While attempting not to seem rushed, he was truly exited. Remembering to bow before the lord of the Picts, he allowed his discourse to slip out fairly uncontrolled.
"Greetings, your highness," he began. After noting the surprise of the chancellor at hearing the name of Zeus, he decided that before the Brude, he would save any theological rhetoric for a later point in their meeting. "I apologize for interrupting you, but I am on a mission for Knud I, king of the Jutes and the Lydians. He wishes to inform you that he is interesting an allying with the High Kingdom of Kay, and believes that if we are truly to be rulers of the Scotians we must increase trade, not only of goods but of ideals. We have much to share in both fields. But first, I understand our history and our coming here less than thirty years ago remains shady. As a historian, would you wish for me to... fill in the blanks?"

Ciniod examined the Lydian. He seemed excited, though his deep voice did a good job of hiding it. He didn't give too much away at all, though his accent was not Greek or Brythonnic. Likely a Dane then. In his choice of words, he was likely awed by the presence of so many powerful men, and woman for the Prythen had no discrimination, in a single hall. Your highness.

"Indeed friend, I know little of your arrival upon this cursed isle. I would be most intrigued by your tale, as I have not met many of your people, especially not the legendary King Knud." Ciniod spoke in Danish, a language easy enough to learn after negotiating with the other Germanic tribes. It always interested him to speak with merchants as they sold their wares and it had come in use multiple times. As for the legends of King Knud, they did not exist but a foreigner would not know that and it was a compliment not an insult.

Olaf was visibly impressed. The ruler of the Picts seemed to be a well-versed man in matters of linguistics, which he did not expect from a prince known to have been warlike in his past. He had to admit to himself, he had somewhat faked awe at the dignitaries before him; they were almost if not all shorter than him, who at 6'5'' stood tall even among Danes. He had called Ciniod Your highness in simple imitation of the servant he had met outside, whom he had overheard announce him to the Brude. Perhaps the rules for a dignified foreign diplomat and historian were different. Of course, he did everything to cover up the slight diplomatic sarcasm. In his mind, the Brude had at this point cast him as a reverent man, and there was no reason to confuse him. As for the legends on King Knud, he was sure it was merely a compliment, but he was more than able to appreciate the gesture. With a smile of friendliness, he began, now in Danish.
"Very well then. As you may or may not know, we were originally formed from the Lydian Republic, on the faraway Aegean Shore of Anatolia. From there we prospered through trade, and forged an empire reaching across Greece and Turkey. Always seeking trade, we established colonies as far from our home as Jutland in search of furs and pelts. When we were invaded by the Paphahassinians of Persia some eight hundred years ago, our ruler, Cleon VI, led those whom he trusted to the Danish shores, where he was crowned king of Carrolydia. The Lydians adopted the ways of the Jutes, though one more recent way was not as highly valued by people such as my king: the Danish religion. Though we accepted it, in the days of Cleon XI, the last king, it became enforced by the state, and those who would rather worship Zeus than Odin were ridiculed and oppressed. Formerly a general of King Cleon, my king was sent to conquer Caledonia and join it to his realm. The man who was then Knud Holmsen, however, saw this as an opportunity to take with him the worshippers of Hermes and found a new realm, where they would no longer be forced down for their beliefs. My parents were among those who joined him."

[Glasgia]

Olaf was visibly impressed. The ruler of the Picts seemed to be a well-versed man in matters of linguistics, which he did not expect from a prince known to have been warlike in his past. He had to admit to himself, he had somewhat faked awe at the dignitaries before him; they were almost if not all shorter than him, who at 6'5'' stood tall even among Danes. He had called Ciniod Your highness in simple imitation of the servant he had met outside, whom he had overheard announce him to the Brude. Perhaps the rules for a dignified foreign diplomat and historian were different. Of course, he did everything to cover up the slight diplomatic sarcasm. In his mind, the Brude had at this point cast him as a reverent man, and there was no reason to confuse him. As for the legends on King Knud, he was sure it was merely a compliment, but he was more than able to appreciate the gesture. With a smile of friendliness, he began, now in Danish.
"Very well then. As you may or may not know, we were originally formed from the Lydian Republic, on the faraway Aegean Shore of Anatolia. From there we prospered through trade, and forged an empire reaching across Greece and Turkey. Always seeking trade, we established colonies as far from our home as Jutland in search of furs and pelts. When we were invaded by the Paphahassinians of Persia some eight hundred years ago, our ruler, Cleon VI, led those whom he trusted to the Danish shores, where he was crowned king of Carrolydia. The Lydians adopted the ways of the Jutes, though one more recent way was not as highly valued by people such as my king: the Danish religion. Though we accepted it, in the days of Cleon XI, the last king, it became enforced by the state, and those who would rather worship Zeus than Odin were ridiculed and oppressed. Formerly a general of King Cleon, my king was sent to conquer Caledonia and join it to his realm. The man who was then Knud Holmsen, however, saw this as an opportunity to take with him the worshippers of Hermes and found a new realm, where they would no longer be forced down for their beliefs. My parents were among those who joined him."

ooc: Picts are actually known for being quite tall, not sure where you got small from

"A great tale of battle and storm, treks and halts. I admit that I have not heard of many of the places you speak about in Greece, a land which I have never travelled to. However, it interests me none the less.

Unfortunately, we are not here to exchange tales though. I believe your King Knud would likely seek an alliance with either me or the Argurborr, for military or trade purposes." Ciniod weighed his words carefully. He did not want to offend the ambassador, who was apparently also a historian, but he didn't want to seem fooled by common courtesy either.

"I ask you now, what can your king offer me in trade?" Out of the corner of his eye, Ciniod noticed Nieln gesturing. It seemed the Lydds already knew of their couternpart's inventory. Now the real negotiation could begin.