This is my new story featuring Willem the Oranje and the Dutch Empire. the following chapter is just to set the scene for the barbarian invasion that happens later on, and didn't really happen, as I built my city in the pace it gave me. I did find the village however, and they gave me a warrior, which was just before my city was founded, so that parts true. Enjoy!
PART 1: ESCAPE AND REVENGE
Willem glanced out across the deep blue ocean and breathed in the fresh salty sea air. He turned to his followers and called Isnt this wonderful? he saw that like him, all of his followers were speechless, gazing at the beauty of it all. What do you think? He asked, but he didnt doubt the reply. They had been traipsing nearer and nearer the coast for the past few weeks, and it was worth the long trek. Stylo, one of the small group of his aides grinned at him.
3 weeks earlier, As Willem and his small band of followers had stumbled upon a small village to the south of here. They had come from the west, where Willem had been involved in a power struggle to control a forested mountainous region which was controlled by a Hun called Attila. Willem had been born in one of the small villages under the control of the Huns, but longed to break free and explore. He was a natural born leader and Attila was afraid of him, so one day he was summoned to the tiny settlement that was the centre of the Hun Empire, and was challenged to a duel to the death. Naturally, Attila was a trained warrior and Willem wasnt, so it didnt take long for Attila to drive a blade through his chest, killing him. What happened next was unexpected. Willems body was burnt in a bright orange light, and suddenly Willem was back on his feet, sword in hand. Attila was too scared to do anything, and it showed. Willem turned to the crowd and silenced them with his hand. I have a destiny. To lead my people to greatness and to control the world. To build cities, and armies, and to rule the land, this is our world. I cannot be slaughtered like a common foe, and shall only be defeated when so are my people. Are you with me? The crowd roared and cheered, throwing their support behind their new leader. Stop this! Attila bellowed, and it fell silent again. You have no people, Williem van Oranje, you are simply a nobody, and I shall kill you. He raised his sword again. These are my people. He gestured to the crowd. Then youre people shall be crushed. Guards! Attila spat out the words at the barbarian warriors that kept the tribe in line. They swept down to slaughter the crowd, but not all of them were there to hinder Williem. About ¼ of the warriors turned on their own men, and butchered them, allowing the villagers to flee. Williem saw this as an opportunity to get out. Just before he joined the crowd, he turned to see Attila coming at him. He simply turned and jumped on the platform. Leaving the Hun standing alone, a sword in his hand, and rage in his eyes. Attila made a mental note of revenge; he would hunt Williem to the ends of the Earth just to get his revenge.
The Refugees headed north, lead by Williem and protected by the warriors who had switched sides. There was about 250 ordinary men and women, and enough to form one unit of warriors. The commander of these soldiers was a man called Marcus. Williem knew Marcus by reputation, he was a stern but fair man, and was responsible for the charting of the territory the Huns claimed as their own. Therefore he knew the region fairly well and had volunteered to scout ahead with a few of his warriors. After about a day they returned, and Marcus came to find Williem. Theres a small village up ahead, he panted, out of breath. We didnt get close, but with our full amount of warriors there it should be safe, even if they do try to attack us. Williem was beginning to like Marcus, the man was thinking ahead, planning. He would be needed.
As they approached the village, there wasnt any sign of resistance, only cautious villagers. They were shown into the main square, where the whole village had come to see who all the strangers were. They probably hadnt seen so many people before. A man stepped forward. He was big and bulky, and obviously wielded power in the tribe. My name is Stylo. Why have you come to my village? He scowled at Williem and willed him to reveal all.
So Williem did. He told them all about the fight, and his power, and how they had fled. Stylos eyes narrowed. He obviously didnt believe it. Fetch the bow. He said. The bow turned out to be a stick with a sturdy vine strung onto it; the vine was probably soaked in a harder substance. This is a new weapon weve been working on. It fires long wooden poles with spikes on the top, so you can hit enemies without going near them. Were still developing it, but this seems a good way to test it.
Without further ado he drew back the vine and in quick succession fired 3 arrows. They pierced his skin but then broke off as the wounds were engulfed in an orange light. Then the wounds healed. People all around gasped. This is a trick! Stylo roared, and swung his sword at Williem, who raised his arm to block, he had no intention of being killed again, and it was unpleasant. The sword sliced through his arm and it fell to the ground. There was silence as both the arm and the shoulder glowed orange, and in a flash they were re-attached. Stylo dropped to his knees. My lord, I am sorry that I ever doubted me. My life is yours. He hung his head, waiting for a blow that would kill him. It didnt come. Youre a worthy man Stylo; I will have need of you. He spoke sincerely; he wanted this man to help him. My lord I give you eternal thanks, I will aide your cause. My tribe will join yours, and I have the perfect place for your city. The coast.
And so they stood there, gazing down from the hill which they had climbed. My Lord, Stylo approached. Its as wonderful as I said it was, no? They both laughed. Stylo pointed down to where the land met the sea. I believe this to be the best spot for the city my lord, Willem motioned for him to continue. Do you remember that tribe we saw by the river? They had small boats that they used to move up and down the river, and they caught enough fish for them all to eat. Surely there must be something like that down there in the sea. Marcus reported that a hard, dull metal had been spotted nearby, that could be used to make weaponry in the future. There are nearby forests for wood, and the wheat on the other side of the hill can be harvested, and Willem silenced him. You dont need to justify your reasons to me. This is the best spot we could have found in a hundred years. Our people finally have a place they can call home. Amsterdam. And so he journeyed down the hill, his people following him, and they pitched the tents that would become a great city. The year was 4000 BC.
PART 1: ESCAPE AND REVENGE
Willem glanced out across the deep blue ocean and breathed in the fresh salty sea air. He turned to his followers and called Isnt this wonderful? he saw that like him, all of his followers were speechless, gazing at the beauty of it all. What do you think? He asked, but he didnt doubt the reply. They had been traipsing nearer and nearer the coast for the past few weeks, and it was worth the long trek. Stylo, one of the small group of his aides grinned at him.
3 weeks earlier, As Willem and his small band of followers had stumbled upon a small village to the south of here. They had come from the west, where Willem had been involved in a power struggle to control a forested mountainous region which was controlled by a Hun called Attila. Willem had been born in one of the small villages under the control of the Huns, but longed to break free and explore. He was a natural born leader and Attila was afraid of him, so one day he was summoned to the tiny settlement that was the centre of the Hun Empire, and was challenged to a duel to the death. Naturally, Attila was a trained warrior and Willem wasnt, so it didnt take long for Attila to drive a blade through his chest, killing him. What happened next was unexpected. Willems body was burnt in a bright orange light, and suddenly Willem was back on his feet, sword in hand. Attila was too scared to do anything, and it showed. Willem turned to the crowd and silenced them with his hand. I have a destiny. To lead my people to greatness and to control the world. To build cities, and armies, and to rule the land, this is our world. I cannot be slaughtered like a common foe, and shall only be defeated when so are my people. Are you with me? The crowd roared and cheered, throwing their support behind their new leader. Stop this! Attila bellowed, and it fell silent again. You have no people, Williem van Oranje, you are simply a nobody, and I shall kill you. He raised his sword again. These are my people. He gestured to the crowd. Then youre people shall be crushed. Guards! Attila spat out the words at the barbarian warriors that kept the tribe in line. They swept down to slaughter the crowd, but not all of them were there to hinder Williem. About ¼ of the warriors turned on their own men, and butchered them, allowing the villagers to flee. Williem saw this as an opportunity to get out. Just before he joined the crowd, he turned to see Attila coming at him. He simply turned and jumped on the platform. Leaving the Hun standing alone, a sword in his hand, and rage in his eyes. Attila made a mental note of revenge; he would hunt Williem to the ends of the Earth just to get his revenge.
The Refugees headed north, lead by Williem and protected by the warriors who had switched sides. There was about 250 ordinary men and women, and enough to form one unit of warriors. The commander of these soldiers was a man called Marcus. Williem knew Marcus by reputation, he was a stern but fair man, and was responsible for the charting of the territory the Huns claimed as their own. Therefore he knew the region fairly well and had volunteered to scout ahead with a few of his warriors. After about a day they returned, and Marcus came to find Williem. Theres a small village up ahead, he panted, out of breath. We didnt get close, but with our full amount of warriors there it should be safe, even if they do try to attack us. Williem was beginning to like Marcus, the man was thinking ahead, planning. He would be needed.
As they approached the village, there wasnt any sign of resistance, only cautious villagers. They were shown into the main square, where the whole village had come to see who all the strangers were. They probably hadnt seen so many people before. A man stepped forward. He was big and bulky, and obviously wielded power in the tribe. My name is Stylo. Why have you come to my village? He scowled at Williem and willed him to reveal all.
So Williem did. He told them all about the fight, and his power, and how they had fled. Stylos eyes narrowed. He obviously didnt believe it. Fetch the bow. He said. The bow turned out to be a stick with a sturdy vine strung onto it; the vine was probably soaked in a harder substance. This is a new weapon weve been working on. It fires long wooden poles with spikes on the top, so you can hit enemies without going near them. Were still developing it, but this seems a good way to test it.
Without further ado he drew back the vine and in quick succession fired 3 arrows. They pierced his skin but then broke off as the wounds were engulfed in an orange light. Then the wounds healed. People all around gasped. This is a trick! Stylo roared, and swung his sword at Williem, who raised his arm to block, he had no intention of being killed again, and it was unpleasant. The sword sliced through his arm and it fell to the ground. There was silence as both the arm and the shoulder glowed orange, and in a flash they were re-attached. Stylo dropped to his knees. My lord, I am sorry that I ever doubted me. My life is yours. He hung his head, waiting for a blow that would kill him. It didnt come. Youre a worthy man Stylo; I will have need of you. He spoke sincerely; he wanted this man to help him. My lord I give you eternal thanks, I will aide your cause. My tribe will join yours, and I have the perfect place for your city. The coast.
And so they stood there, gazing down from the hill which they had climbed. My Lord, Stylo approached. Its as wonderful as I said it was, no? They both laughed. Stylo pointed down to where the land met the sea. I believe this to be the best spot for the city my lord, Willem motioned for him to continue. Do you remember that tribe we saw by the river? They had small boats that they used to move up and down the river, and they caught enough fish for them all to eat. Surely there must be something like that down there in the sea. Marcus reported that a hard, dull metal had been spotted nearby, that could be used to make weaponry in the future. There are nearby forests for wood, and the wheat on the other side of the hill can be harvested, and Willem silenced him. You dont need to justify your reasons to me. This is the best spot we could have found in a hundred years. Our people finally have a place they can call home. Amsterdam. And so he journeyed down the hill, his people following him, and they pitched the tents that would become a great city. The year was 4000 BC.
