Sorry, I should clarify.
The First Crusade reached Jerusalem in 1099 (well, the siege was then) whereas the Norman Conquest was only in 1066 - there's a very small gap between the two so there's very much an aristocracy of Normans and a serfdom of Anglo-Saxons - if someone from England was a noble of any kind they'd almost certainly be Norman (and therefore would speak French, not 'English').
Also Wales was invaded (and conquered) in 1282 and then absorbed into England in 1536 - Wales and England actually existed as 'England' with Wales being divided into shires and treated the same as those in England so technically Wales never existed until 1955 (scary, right?)
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Friday, 3rd January 2014 CE. St Paul's Cathedral, London.
The last tourists were leaving the Cathedral, the old Deacon thanking each of them for donations they felt obliged to give under his guilt-giving gaze, dropping coins into the box he held out towards them as they left. Eventually the great door was closed but of course it would be absurd for all those who worked in the Cathedral, such as those in the gift shop and the security guards and the other members of the clergy to leave by such huge doors; they would all leave by the side door.
Humming a cheerful tune to himself the elderly man made his way slowly to the stairs which led to the gallery high above. As age had passed it became harder and harder for him to climb those stairs but it had kept him fit when he had little time for other exercise so he was grateful that his small office-chamber was accessible only by the gallery. Barely had he made it to the top of the stairs and was merrily making his way to his room when a deep rumbling, almost a grating, sounded from below. Fearing an earthquake the old man instinctively clung to the sturdy stone pillar nearby and looked down to the floor below. Cracks were spreading like a spider's web across it and then the stone communion table fell down along with the dais, pulpit and much else into a dark pit.
"By God..." The man blasphemed as he saw the darkness of the pit was... moving. It writhed with hundreds of smaller shapes which began to flow out from the hole and into the chamber itself. The dark shapes varied in size and shape but they all gave off a sense of dread. They looked this way and that like dogs on the hunt, as sniffing the air to find a scent. Then the creatures rushed in all directions like a dark tide, spreading out across the floor with their numbers seemingly endless. The old deacon hurried to his office and pushed the door closed, locking it with a key kept in his desk. Only then did he hear the first screams which echoed in the great, cavernous space of the Cathedral's high roofed hall. Muttering prayers and psalms under his breath the deacon reached for a phone and began to dial a number but there was nothing. No dial tone, no empty buzz to say the line was dead; nothing.
Street lamps that had come on, even though it wasn't properly dark outside, were flickering out as if extinguished by some unseen force and cars and motorcycles were simply stopping to work on the roads; all visible to the deacon from his office. Then the thumping on his door sounded. He reached for the small wooden crucifix his daughter, now a mother herself, had made for him half a lifetime ago and held it up towards the door in the hope such a religious icon might save him from the nameless monsters.
It didn't.
The Twilight Beasts invaded the world from its large religious buildings, erupting all of a sudden on the same day across every continent as if from Hell itself. They were given this name for their fondness for attacking at night, surging over all defences like a black wave and slaughtering anything, human or not, with no apparent aim in mind.
Two years have passed since they first arrived and humanity has already been pushed back from much of their land; every capital or highly populated city has been lost with the more defensible settlements being those which have escaped the onslaught best.
Now a radical new strategy has been developed: from all over the world young recruits from the various military wings have been called in to form a single organisation dedicated to fighting against the Twilight Beasts. Not only are they to defend those remaining cities but they are also to retake those which were lost. The first thousand to join this experimental unit have been gathered in France at Calais, ready to take back Rouen and then Paris as a test of their effectiveness.
Details:
For whatever reason, the presence of Twilight Beasts causes modern inventions to cease working. This includes lighting, vehicles and, most importantly, modern weaponry. It has been proven that modern artillery is still effective against the Twilight Beasts if fired from far enough away however even the most advanced of firearms, such as Sniper Rifles, have proven to have too short a range. For this reason the Guardians have been trained with more basic weaponry: swords, lances, crossbows and bows and other, 'medieval', weaponry.
Very little is known about the Twilight Beasts. They have no apparent history in literature or mythology and their behavior seems to be random most of the time although sometimes signs of organisation and leadership have been noted.
This is still a work in progress and some stuff needs fleshing out. Note: there will be no 'magic' as such (well, not in the purest sense but spoilers).
The last tourists were leaving the Cathedral, the old Deacon thanking each of them for donations they felt obliged to give under his guilt-giving gaze, dropping coins into the box he held out towards them as they left. Eventually the great door was closed but of course it would be absurd for all those who worked in the Cathedral, such as those in the gift shop and the security guards and the other members of the clergy to leave by such huge doors; they would all leave by the side door.
Humming a cheerful tune to himself the elderly man made his way slowly to the stairs which led to the gallery high above. As age had passed it became harder and harder for him to climb those stairs but it had kept him fit when he had little time for other exercise so he was grateful that his small office-chamber was accessible only by the gallery. Barely had he made it to the top of the stairs and was merrily making his way to his room when a deep rumbling, almost a grating, sounded from below. Fearing an earthquake the old man instinctively clung to the sturdy stone pillar nearby and looked down to the floor below. Cracks were spreading like a spider's web across it and then the stone communion table fell down along with the dais, pulpit and much else into a dark pit.
"By God..." The man blasphemed as he saw the darkness of the pit was... moving. It writhed with hundreds of smaller shapes which began to flow out from the hole and into the chamber itself. The dark shapes varied in size and shape but they all gave off a sense of dread. They looked this way and that like dogs on the hunt, as sniffing the air to find a scent. Then the creatures rushed in all directions like a dark tide, spreading out across the floor with their numbers seemingly endless. The old deacon hurried to his office and pushed the door closed, locking it with a key kept in his desk. Only then did he hear the first screams which echoed in the great, cavernous space of the Cathedral's high roofed hall. Muttering prayers and psalms under his breath the deacon reached for a phone and began to dial a number but there was nothing. No dial tone, no empty buzz to say the line was dead; nothing.
Street lamps that had come on, even though it wasn't properly dark outside, were flickering out as if extinguished by some unseen force and cars and motorcycles were simply stopping to work on the roads; all visible to the deacon from his office. Then the thumping on his door sounded. He reached for the small wooden crucifix his daughter, now a mother herself, had made for him half a lifetime ago and held it up towards the door in the hope such a religious icon might save him from the nameless monsters.
It didn't.
The Twilight Beasts invaded the world from its large religious buildings, erupting all of a sudden on the same day across every continent as if from Hell itself. They were given this name for their fondness for attacking at night, surging over all defences like a black wave and slaughtering anything, human or not, with no apparent aim in mind.
Two years have passed since they first arrived and humanity has already been pushed back from much of their land; every capital or highly populated city has been lost with the more defensible settlements being those which have escaped the onslaught best.
Now a radical new strategy has been developed: from all over the world young recruits from the various military wings have been called in to form a single organisation dedicated to fighting against the Twilight Beasts. Not only are they to defend those remaining cities but they are also to retake those which were lost. The first thousand to join this experimental unit have been gathered in France at Calais, ready to take back Rouen and then Paris as a test of their effectiveness.
Details:
For whatever reason, the presence of Twilight Beasts causes modern inventions to cease working. This includes lighting, vehicles and, most importantly, modern weaponry. It has been proven that modern artillery is still effective against the Twilight Beasts if fired from far enough away however even the most advanced of firearms, such as Sniper Rifles, have proven to have too short a range. For this reason the Guardians have been trained with more basic weaponry: swords, lances, crossbows and bows and other, 'medieval', weaponry.
Very little is known about the Twilight Beasts. They have no apparent history in literature or mythology and their behavior seems to be random most of the time although sometimes signs of organisation and leadership have been noted.
This is still a work in progress and some stuff needs fleshing out. Note: there will be no 'magic' as such (well, not in the purest sense but spoilers).
The Battle of Hastings and the crowning of William the Conqueror was in 1066 and it was then that an aristocracy that was Norman wad established.
In other words it depends on whether Hayate is one of the original companions of the Conqueror or one of their children or whether he is a Saxon knight who escaped the purge. At this point the Saxon nobles won't have acclimated to the new French court.
Also Britain was founded in 1800s when they formally unified with Scotland into one nation. And Rhiannon is Welsh which is British... now anyways (I live in Wales but am English).
In other words it depends on whether Hayate is one of the original companions of the Conqueror or one of their children or whether he is a Saxon knight who escaped the purge. At this point the Saxon nobles won't have acclimated to the new French court.
Also Britain was founded in 1800s when they formally unified with Scotland into one nation. And Rhiannon is Welsh which is British... now anyways (I live in Wales but am English).
Gaius listened carefully to the other lad's story carefully, nodding thoughtfully at the end of the tale.
"You were outside in the Wild then? You're braver than most... and better than most. Very few survive out there for long, from what I've heard. Especially those without powers, that is." He was slightly taken aback by the Ludonear's question, thinking the answer would have been obvious.
"Me? I have powers so if I don't fight I die and I can only fight if I'm here. Survival, for me and everyone else." He thought for a moment and shook his head. "That's not all of it, not for me anyway. My family's heritage was of trying to make a way for people with powers to live like normal people in this world and I don't want to let that heritage down, especially as I'm the last of the line." He smiled sadly, glancing towards the cargo hold where the precious journals were stored.
"Well from now on it won't all be about luck. One of my ancestors used to say that chance can be removed from the equation if you're clever enough but that it's even smarter to make chance work for you and only for you. I suppose it's a long winded way of saying you make your own luck." He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "My family has a big thing about their history."
For a reason, though.
"You were outside in the Wild then? You're braver than most... and better than most. Very few survive out there for long, from what I've heard. Especially those without powers, that is." He was slightly taken aback by the Ludonear's question, thinking the answer would have been obvious.
"Me? I have powers so if I don't fight I die and I can only fight if I'm here. Survival, for me and everyone else." He thought for a moment and shook his head. "That's not all of it, not for me anyway. My family's heritage was of trying to make a way for people with powers to live like normal people in this world and I don't want to let that heritage down, especially as I'm the last of the line." He smiled sadly, glancing towards the cargo hold where the precious journals were stored.
"Well from now on it won't all be about luck. One of my ancestors used to say that chance can be removed from the equation if you're clever enough but that it's even smarter to make chance work for you and only for you. I suppose it's a long winded way of saying you make your own luck." He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "My family has a big thing about their history."
For a reason, though.
I'm here, just kind of in the background.
Indeed. Only converts were allowed to speak Arabic openly (and even then there were restrictions on the recently converted) so the spread of the language was very slow. Again, the Pact of Umar is an example of Dhimmitude and its origins are... contentious to say the least.
Latin would be the most logical choice, I think. It's no coincidence that the Holy Orders all spoke Latin as their main form of communication due to their universal nature of recruitment.
Latin would be the most logical choice, I think. It's no coincidence that the Holy Orders all spoke Latin as their main form of communication due to their universal nature of recruitment.
A High Language is essentially an Upper Class or elitist language; it's seen as the language of preferment and no knowledge in it would result in very limited career hopes, as it were (the opposite being a Low Language).
That's correct. In exchange for protection, a poll tax and some restrictions (search for the Pact of Umar for a few examples although not that many were actually enforced) the non-Muslims were given religious freedom and were supposedly free of persecution but this was a theory and not always practiced/enforced. This obviously only applied to permanent settlers; Pilgrims and other visitors were generally left alone because they brought money to the economy and attacking them would damage that revenue. Also believe it or not Christian monks and priests were highly respected by the Muslims and were generally left alone (during Crusades and times of warfare this changed for the worse though).
That's correct. In exchange for protection, a poll tax and some restrictions (search for the Pact of Umar for a few examples although not that many were actually enforced) the non-Muslims were given religious freedom and were supposedly free of persecution but this was a theory and not always practiced/enforced. This obviously only applied to permanent settlers; Pilgrims and other visitors were generally left alone because they brought money to the economy and attacking them would damage that revenue. Also believe it or not Christian monks and priests were highly respected by the Muslims and were generally left alone (during Crusades and times of warfare this changed for the worse though).
21, Male, Wales and standing at the bar drinking (there be no dancing).
"10:00, huh? That's a lie in for you and me then." Rhiannon said cheerily, leaning back into her chair with arms crossed behind her head. "We'll obviously do our best to ensure your safety but if you're reckless and go off on your own then we'll be prioritizing the majority and will only come and find you once everyone else is safe... needless to say we may not arrive in time if you get into trouble. You'll be working as a team so if you're going to go and do something stupid then do it together." She flashed a smile, feeling a little rejuvenated by the odd team after several centuries being on the run with only Lauren for occasional companionship.
Gaius was looking at his controller, working his way through the menus and committing it all to memory. The team had an odd assortment of abilities and he could see why each of them were chosen although he was surprised there weren't more users of... mundane abilities like his own. Only one thing concerned him and that was the presence of a non-'Super' but he understood that their powers would not always be usable, or effective, so having someone skilled in regular fighting would be an advantage.
"I don't see anyone doing anything quite so juvenile especially if we're on this thing for a week together and will be as one team for the foreseeable future; unless someone wanted to deliberately alienate themselves from everyone else." He spoke, referencing Lauren's warning about messing with each other's habitation areas. He was just glad that no one had made a big deal of his lineage; expectations were such a bothersome affair.
It then occurred to him that Rhiannon had not mentioned her own power but when he looked up she was talking to Lauren. She clearly had no interest in divulging it yet but if she was the same Rhiannon Jones mentioned in Julius' journals, which only Gaius possessed, then he knew her power and also who she really was. He resolved to speak to her about it later and instead turned to Ludonear who was sitting next to him.
"Sorry if there is a bit of personal question but how did you come to be part of this rebel group? I mean, generally speaking it's those without powers against those with powers if you take away all the politics. Don't feel you have to answer if you don't want to, of course."
Gaius was looking at his controller, working his way through the menus and committing it all to memory. The team had an odd assortment of abilities and he could see why each of them were chosen although he was surprised there weren't more users of... mundane abilities like his own. Only one thing concerned him and that was the presence of a non-'Super' but he understood that their powers would not always be usable, or effective, so having someone skilled in regular fighting would be an advantage.
"I don't see anyone doing anything quite so juvenile especially if we're on this thing for a week together and will be as one team for the foreseeable future; unless someone wanted to deliberately alienate themselves from everyone else." He spoke, referencing Lauren's warning about messing with each other's habitation areas. He was just glad that no one had made a big deal of his lineage; expectations were such a bothersome affair.
It then occurred to him that Rhiannon had not mentioned her own power but when he looked up she was talking to Lauren. She clearly had no interest in divulging it yet but if she was the same Rhiannon Jones mentioned in Julius' journals, which only Gaius possessed, then he knew her power and also who she really was. He resolved to speak to her about it later and instead turned to Ludonear who was sitting next to him.
"Sorry if there is a bit of personal question but how did you come to be part of this rebel group? I mean, generally speaking it's those without powers against those with powers if you take away all the politics. Don't feel you have to answer if you don't want to, of course."
Greek would be predominant among the Armenians, I should think. Arabic was still a High Language at this point thanks in part to the practice of Dhimmitude (which, by the way, is a very smart way of doing things).
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