From the Scots Skald: Waile Dugs Frae th' Braine

Tavish McTavish th' Laird ay th' Nairth
Stuid at th' praw ay hi' shep
An look'd towa' th' aicelandec coest.

“I’s as Ah min' it Euan,
Thes coods be guid lain fur th' wee Jimmies.”

Euan luked athwart at th' backs ay th' Scots
A-rowin' th' lest hunder yars tae th' shair,
“Ef wiccan winet an' Murdoch can hauld et”.
Sed Tavish: “Aye hawayal”.

Es th' tois boats groonded oan th' shair,
Tavish an' hes Thanes jump'd tae th' groon.
Hes Soer-chelle laift tae dafend hes boots.

Inlain th' Vikin's hud lained ap oan th' laift
Afront ay th' tois men beldens.
Baserkeys tae th' laift,
Erchas en th' meddle.
Harthged tae th' reit.
An' th' Warlaird Bjairn Arnsaides stuid an th' reer.
Shooted Tavish: “A-cowrin' bahin' hais main!”

The Thanes march'd aup th' bech.
Tha Baserkeys avanc'd ower th' brae
Towa' th' left hain shep.
An' Tavish an' hes main eproach'd th' Vikens
Tae fayet,

Erchas tairn'd an' vollys wa' lus'd
Messen th' target, tha Thanes.
Bet a secand wae ay arrows feel frae th' lift
An' fife ay th' seven Thanes fayell.

Fower Viken Harthged charg'd.
Th' Thanes foot valyently,
Killen tois Vikens fur th' loass ay a body Scot.
An' th' Vikens fail beck, blooded an' cafus'd.

Tavish thayen charg's intae th' frey,
Waipen' oot th' Harthged
En fraitnen' th' Vikens nayerby.

Thayen, es Tavish gat hes braith
Hisaw Bjairn, oathswairn tae hes raivel
Volla th' Friggin' Maid'n.
Tavish charged again, wi' gods oan hes saide,
Th'Scot wa' victorioos
An' Bjairn ran awee wi' a serioos woond.
Laugh'd Tavish: “Tha' el slaw th' dobber doon!"

Seen' Tavish aloyn aset fur Euan,
Th' Viken Waryers chairg'd it ay th' buildin'.
Drenalen oan overlood
Tavish fooght thaim oof, kellen' tois
Senden' thay raist scarrayen beck tae th' belden'.

Grabbin' a flamin' brain,
Tavish ran in an beldens wa' sit oan faiyer.
Th' erchas hud thayer becks tae heem.
Sed Tavish: “Cam oan, les gang an' scaur sem Laivy!”

Tavish raic'd en, killin' thee.
Th' erchas gaither'd themsaylves tagethar
En' th' lest Scots Thane fayell.
Sed Tavish: “Ya shooldn’y ha dain 'at!"
Tavish charged an waip'd ott tha mail.

Speart Euan: “Wha’s laift?”
An hae turn'd towa' tha boots.
Tavish sa' th' Baserkeys a-comin'.
Sayed Tavish: “Thaim"
An' th' Baserkeys chairg'd.

Bludy wes th' combet
Tavish stud, weth th'woons af a hayero
An al th' Baserkeys wa' dayed.

Sed Euan: “Lo-ook! Tha Vikens hae goon”.
Fa seen th' battel wa' tint, th'rayest hud ran awee

Tavish McTavish th' Laird ay th' Nairth
Savayed hes new tarretree.
Sed Tavish: "Thes lain is oors noo.
Gie th' gear aff th' boots, wee Jimmies,
An' lets hae a swatch at whit wai’ve gaut!"

Le Chanson de Bob - Chapter IV

Many months have passed
Since last we sang
Of Robert Eponge
And his cheesy Breton knights

And in that long time
The people of Brittany have celebrated
A lot
With feasting,
Substantial cheese consumption
And an excess of wine,
Curious liqueurs,
Pommeau,
Calvados,
Crème de coing,
And even the nasty stuff that people in this part of the world call beer

So much so
That the hangover of the Bretons
Lasted even longer than the celebrations.

But a few of those
Who survived the party
Recalled the exploits of their hero
Robert Eponge
And the battle they won
Which is scribed here by our skald
Basculf the Unwashed
Recalling the tale
As best as anyone can remember
Filling in gaps in memory
With suitably apocryphal embellishment

So
It was on an open field
On the borders of Brittany
That a force of brave and particularly hairy Vikings
(Not for the first time)
And their Warlord
Einar Jonatansson
(That's right, the other one with the saga written in this blog)
Were met by Robert's brave Bretons

Einar Jonatansson
Unlike certain other leaders of hairy Viking factions
(see Chapter II)
Was very much not unready
Although he did make it clear he wasn't particularly happy about the openness of the terrain, the fact that he was facing Bretons, and various other matters, while his skald took notes, just in case.

The fearless Bretons, however
Might in this case themselves have been considered unready
For they were unfamiliar with recent changes
That had been made to the code of battle
The message evidently failing to reach them
(Or more likely they had not read their email or looked at Facebook recently)

And hence
Their order of battle proved particularly poorly thought out
Fielding one very large unit of knights
That after deployment realised they had left their War Banner at home

"Bum!"
Thought Robert Eponge
"Ha!"
Taunted Einar Jonatansson
"Ha!"
Jeered the hairy Viking horde
"Ha!"
Wrote Einar Jonatansson's skald
"S***"
Thought the banner bearer
Who understood that someone
Was in for a good slapping
(Probably him)
And would have said
"It's not my fault!"
But for the fact that
It was

The hairy Vikings charged
The Bretons fled, shooting
The hairy, sweating Vikings charged again
The Bretons scattered, shooting
The hairy, sweating, tired Vikings charged once more
But the Bretons would not be caught
And shot them again
And again

Thus
Though war-banner-less
The speed of the Breton horsemen
Aided by the openness of the battlefield
Combined with their use of the incredibly cheesy In All Directions ability
Meant the Vikings
Hairy, sweating and slow
Could not catch them

Jeer as they might
They were slowly
(Slower than if the Bretons had brought their War Banner, at least)
Picked off by relentless Breton javelins

Eventually
The Vikings
Hairy
Sweaty
Tired
And incredibly frustrated with this most irritating enemy
(Though not by any means disgraced)
Were considered defeated

The Viking skald was politely informed of precisely what would happen to him if he wrote about this in the Saga of Einar Jonatansson
And the Vikings called it a day and went home

As said above
With his final victory
There was much rejoicing in the land
King Bob was proclaimed
The greatest of all Warlords
And the Bretons
Were declared
The cheesiest
Of all factions
And
(Excepting House Rules and/or changes in the official FAQ)
The least likely to be invited to take part in future campaigns

Thus
At last
Our saga comes to an end

Thanks be to God

Although...

There is some talk
Of Robert Eponge
And his Breton knights
Turning up at a tournament somewhere
So as to demonstrate to the world
The power of Breton cheese

Well, you never know…

Le Chanson de Bob - Chapter II

In which we tell the tale of events after the attack of the cheesy Normans, of Robert Eponge's facing the army of the invader Ubba "The Unready" and his force of hairy plunder-seeking Viking raiders, and of the confrontation that is known to history as "The Battle of Ubba's Mound".

Once more we sing of brave Robert

Who, despite seeing off the cheesy Norman invader

From the borders of his land

Was now under a bit of pressure.

The cost of dispersing that barbarous foe

Had been high

Many were the brave knights of Brittany

That had fallen in that noble endeavour.

And hence many too were the people of Brittany

Who had lost sons and husbands

And who

Quite frankly

Weren't at all happy with the situation.

Questions were being asked

About Robert Eponge

About his right to rule the land

His authority to command the army

And his general level of competence.

Robert himself

Was rightly worried

He sensed his people on the brink of rebellion

And knew he had to do something about it

PDQ

Worse still

This unfortunate situation

Was apparent to other jealous neighbours

And further abroad,

Even to those in distant lands

For word had spread to all corners of the world

Of the rich pickings of Brittany

There for the taking

For whoever might try

And of its weak defenders

Who could scarcely be considered the equal of warriors of any other nation

Given the rumours of their pathetic showing against the cheesy Normans

These tales reached the eager ears of one

Hairy Viking

Ubba

Ambitious for glory

Hungry for adventure

Greedy for plunder

(Yet known as Unready)

But ready he made himself, and

His tall-prowed longship

With battle-ready hairy Viking crew

Soon made land on Breton shores

The Breton villagers

On spotting this foe

Were filled with dread

And fled into the hills and

(Temporarily putting aside thoughts of revolution for the time being)

Sent word to the court of Robert Eponge

Demanding help

Robert

(Who was not wholly blind to the obvious)

Saw that this was the opportunity he needed

To "do something about it PDQ"

And so

He did

The armies of Ubba and Robert Eponge

Made battle beside a mound-like hill

Open ground, a space between woodland and fields, a village to its south.

Robert faced the east, warriors to his left and right

His four household guards beside him

The twelve Machiterns of his faithful knight

Patrick Etoile

Bearing the Standard of Brittany

On his left

Preparing to charge

Opposite, facing west

Ubba

Flanked by hairy warriors

Hairier Huscarls on the flanks

And really hairy Berserkers

Made hairier by the skins they wore

Hiding

Beside the edge of a wood

Off to one side

Trying to be clever

Contemplating some sneaky trick

Suddenly

The calm was broken

Breton battle-horns sounded

Machiterns charged Huscarls

Throwing javelins once, twice, three times

Until the huscarls on that flank had all fallen dead

To their left the Machiterns then swarmed

Loosing more javelins

The trees could not protect the hairiest ones

Who all died too

And the Machiterns reformed their line.

"Bum"
Thought Ubba

(Who really had been unready)

And considered his options.

Briefly considering running away

(But he was too far from his ship)

He reconsidered, and

Having lost his right flank

Adjusted his battle plan

And advanced on the left instead.

Dressing their lines

Resting their horses

Robert's household knights advanced

Javelins were thrown

But Ubba's men were not deterred

And advanced, ignoring fatigue

Closing down the distance

Cornering Robert's household knights.

As resting Machiterns watched and

Warriors cautiously backed away

The cornered household knights charged

Uncharacteristically

Unexpectedly

(Some thought unwisely)

Tired Viking warriors

Bravely met their foe

Thinking the odds even

They were ready

But the Bretons had a trick up their sleeve

In mid-charge, loosing javelins

At the Vikings

Who were unready

And fate had deserted them

Slaying but one Breton knight

As five of their own number fell

Ubba

Determined

Charged with his huscarls

Ready or not

But the Bretons had another trick

No longer cornered

And instead of fighting, ran away

Ubba

Undeterred

(If a little frustrated)

Threw his Warriors at Robert's household knights

Finally getting rid of them

Albeit at equal cost

And in desperation

Threw them in at the Machiterns too

But in defence the horsemen were strong

Withstanding the attack

Slaying the warriors

Sowing the ground with Viking blood

Thus Ubba

On the mound-like hill

With three brave warriors remained

And called to Odin for help

And in desperation

Charged

But

Unready

He fell

And thus

(So it turned out)

"Something had been done about it PDQ"

Robert Eponge

Returned home in glory

Ubba didn't

Dragged off by his three remaining men

Finally home after an extremely slow  boat trip.

The Saga of Einar Jonatansson - Chapter 2.

Moving south from the lands of the Norse Gael we entered the territory of an Irish chieftain called Finn Mac Blatha. For two days we continued south looting and burning Irish hamlets for little reward beyond a couple of red haired beauties captured and given over to my warriors for sport.

Toward mid-day of the third day our path was blocked by an Irish warband led by Finn Mac Blatha himself and intent on doing us harm.

The ground was open except for a small bog on our left rear and a large field of winter barley on the Irish left rear. I thought Mac Blatha had chosen poor ground to make his stand against me and I smiled.

Mac Blatha deployed his warband behind a thin screen of levy archers. On his far left were two units of eight warriors deployed one behind the other with their flank secured on the cropfield. In the centre stood Mac Blatha supported by two champions with six Hearthguard immediately to his right. Out on his right wing was another unit of eight warriors. I saw none of the much vaunted war dogs the Irish peasants had boasted of!

I deployed my shieldwall opposite the Irish centre with eight warriors on the left and two units of six Hearthguard on the right. I stood with the berserkers behind the shieldwall. My archers were placed further out on my right opposite the left wing of the Irish.

Mac Blatha spoke to his warriors calling them to red war against us and I saw him bestow an arm rings on one of his Hearthguard.

Not to be outdone I in turn awarded an arm ring to the leader of the Hearthguard unit that formed the right of my shieldwall. My men banged weapons on shields and screamed their war cries at the enemy.

The Irish moved first and ordered their archers forward to shoot us. I called to Odin for protection and he answered with a sudden mist that hid us from view. One of the enemy champions moved to support the warriors on the Irish left.

From the start there was Irish magic at work and for much of the fight the enemy levy were obscured by a mist that prevented my archers from shooting them. Fortunately, the Irish chieftain had made a mistake and my archers had sight on one of the warrior units deployed beyond their levy screen. By personal command I pushed my archers forward and further right before unleashing two volleys on the exposed enemy warriors and killing two.

Stung by the archery Mac Blatha ordered the remaining six warriors forward and hurled javelins at my levy but Asgard protected them from harm. The enemy warriors remained unbowed and launched themselves into melee with my archers. For the loss of two of their own my doughty archers killed two enemies and pushed them back. The Irish champion moved further forward in support of the warriors.

Invoking Ragnarok my archers shot down one more Irish warrior before I sent my right hand Hearthguard charging across the field and into the remaining three warriors. Two enemies fell for no loss and the Hearthguard continued the attack into the Irish champion. My men were tired but their leader dedicated his arm ring to Thor who answered by refreshing them with renewed vitality. The Irish champion fell in a welter of axe, sword and spear blows while my brothers remained unharmed. Loki snatched the last Irish warrior screaming from this world!

Mac Blatha was not done yet and after shooting down four of my archers with his levy sent the second warrior unit on his left forward against my triumphant Hearthguard killing one with javelins.

In response my Hearthguard attacked the warriors and after a hard fight that cost us three brave men slaughtered all the enemy warriors.

I pushed forward with my shieldwall and Berserkers.

At this moment the Gods deserted us and three of my Hearthguard fell to Irish archery. The battle hung in the balance.

The red mist descended as I lead my three Hearthguard in a final charge against the enemy archers calling on Frigg, Ullr and Thor we chopped down most of the enemy for no loss and the Irish abandoned the field to us. Thanks be to Odin.

The Saga of Einar Jonatansson - Chapter I

With the coming of the thaw my warriors grew restless for the vik.

I led them across the whale road to Ireland, the land of bog dwellers and little kings.

We landed in the north where the Norse Gael dwells. The race is a sorry dilution of noble Nordic blood with bastardised bog trotter.

In the early dawn we moved inland and found an abandoned longhouse with heart embers still glowing red. I sent my archers into the building and had them cut arrow loops in the walls while my hearthguards and warriors formed a shield wall outside.  To our left front loomed the only high ground in the area and opposite the longhouse on the other side of the clearing was a small wood, wreathed in an early morning mist that hung heavy across the land.

It wasn’t long before shadowy figures could be glimpsed in the misty half -light of dawn moving in the wood and to our front. Our visitors seemed nervous and over cautious.

I sent the warriors forward to tempt them in and ordered the archers out in support. Two groups of Norse Gael hearthguard appeared from the mist brandishing their dane axes and cursing us to the gods.

The archers shot two of the enemy down, forcing them to retire like whipped dogs.

My warriors moved bravely toward the wood and revealed enemy warriors also wielding dane axes. Our archers quickly send one of them to hell.

Finally the enemy found his courage and their warriors launched themselves at my warriors. Two of my brave lads met the axes of the enemy in personal challenge and went straight to Valhalla. 
Overwhelmed by the fierceness of the attack another five of my men fell to the deadly axes but took four of the enemy with them in red death.

My surviving warrior fell back as the archers shot down the last three enemy warriors and my shield wall advanced on the enemy.

The bloodletting seemed to have cowed the enemy who hung back from the fight again. The archers went forward and killed three more of their hearthguard with well-aimed shafts.

This proved too much for the Gaels who ran off into the mist.

A search of the longhouse rewarded us with hidden silver and an arm ring.

Hear my song of red war and tremble.