"The worse the troops the greater the need of artillery." - Napoleon

The Normans

Starting Roster


Leaning across the dragon's neck, Sybald gazed over the prow of his ship to the horses being led across a rickety gangplank onto the bustling dock below as his longship tugged gently against the ropes holding it alongside the jetty, its journey complete. Arriving home, as welcome as it was, always seemed an anticlimax after the long journey across the turbulent seas to get here. Still, Sybald thought, it would not be long before he might set sail again, perhaps next time to visit shores closer to home.

This time, he hadn't returned to Normandy entirely by choice. While in distant lands he'd received word from the Duke, his liege lord, that he was needed. War was on the horizon, soon, if word from England and the island nations was to be believed. And if that was true, the Duke needed him to lead his army into the field. It was a command as much as an honour, and could not be denied. But Sybald understood it was also an opportunity. Second in the kingdom only to the Duke, he was already an Aetheling - a man who could, and if all fell in his favour would - be king. He knew he had little choice but to set sail for home.

And now, here at last, he contemplated what the future held in store.

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