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Imperialis Brittanica

🇳🇿TheRagFromTheCrag2
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Synopsis
A man is reborn as the only Heir to the chiefdom of Ormond, watch as he uses his knowledge of Modern technologies to forge a first a High Chiefdom, then a Kingdom, and finally an Empire in the Fires of War. Watch as he forms the Empire of Ireland, and forges a Dynasty for the ages that will stand the test of time...
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Fergus mac Braenen

(Author's Note:)

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This is a novel I'm writing mostly to de-stress. I'm not burnt out exactly, but you know my Oral Surgery finally has a date and two weeks back I got into an ugly argument with my mom over something that turns out was my younger brother and not me. Which as much as I want to say eat that mom, will only escalate the conflict.

So I'm pretty stressed.

Regardless this is my de-stress novel. I'll write to alleviate my stress before giving ya'll what you really want.

Which reminds me, I should tell you all that I rotate between stories daily to prevent burning out.

Anyway Enjoy!

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(Ormond, High Chiefdom of Leinster, Chiefdom of Ormond, Ireland)

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(Year: 867)

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His name is Fergus mac Braenen, he was born in 2001, he died late one morning in the year 2029. But he was reborn as the bastard son of Dub-dá-Bairenn mac Crundmáel Eóganact-Chaisil of the Eóganact-Chaisil Dynasty in the year 851 AD. But his father and true siblings - indeed his entire Paternal Family had since died in a bloody massacre, leaving him as the sole Heir to the Chiefdom of Ormond.

But now, he had a goal...change history, avenge his family, and settle the debt of blood. He would unify Ireland, he would reform the Brittanic Empire, and he would be Emperor.

But...

He needed to be smart.

Ormond needed to be first retaken and promptly secured. It needed to be developed, it needed to be tamed before he set out to unify Ireland.

As the bastard Heir to the comparatively small Chiefdom of Ormond, he needed to quickly secure his hold over the Land, he needed a wife. Especially since those mac Dúngal sheep fuckers now ruled his birthright.

There were a few options but there was one person he knew or at the very least hoped would honor his father's memory...High Chieftain Áed mac Gormlaith of Meath. The Patriarch of the Néill Dynasty had always treated him with a measure of kindness.

He had the men and the respect Fergus would need to send the mac Dúngal family to the Morrigan's Grip.

The odds were not lost on him. But he had very few options for better or worse, so the only clear choice was to but to make the Journey to Meath and ask for help. He would do it on his own if he had to, but he had to make the request for help first.

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(POV Shift: Cerball mac Dúngal)

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After years of weak rule beneath the reign of the Eóganact-Chaisil Dynasty, the mac Dúngal's had first taken independence and now they had seized the Chiefdom and all but exterminated the Eóganact-Chaisil Bloodline.

Dub-dá-Bairenn mac crundmáel Eóganact-Chaisil's bastard son Fergus mac Braenen hadn't been at Court at the time, but even so, the boy was a bastard and even if he could raise the men to take back his father's land he lacked the support of Council of Chiefs.

Sooner or later he'd turn up, and when he did they would lop off his head and put it on a spike.

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(POV Shift: Saga Halfdansdottir)

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Freya had come to her in her dreams again, she expected to receive a vision of her life with her new soon to be husband.

But no, no what she saw - was by her own interpretation - was the man she was meant to marry. A Man to the west whose family was killed. Traveling north alone to find aid.

Thus her mission was clear take ship to Ireland and find this man with a white Griffin behind him.

Saga felt the rush of the excitement and the thrill of risk versus reward as she began to plan her departure. It'd be easy enough. Claiming to want one last raid in before marriage. A marriage that would never happen because during the raid she planned to bury her axe in her currently named husband's maw.

He'd just be an unfortunate casualty and she would be nowhere to be found...

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(Time-skip: One Week Later)

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(POV Shift: Áed mac Gormlaith of Meath)

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Áed's heart was heavy.

His friend was dead, him and his entire family butchered by a former vassal.

And he could do nothing about it.

With none left of the Eóganact-Chaisil Clan to speak of what happened any claim of wrongdoing would - at best - only be an accusation.

He was sorry for Fergus.

The boy was truly without an equal, as despite his bastardy, he was better than Dub's true children put together. Brilliant and Strong, the boys strength of mind and body alone led him to entertain giving him his daughter Eithné.

But Fergus like his family was now dead.

Still, Cerball mac Dúngal...

The glass in his hands shattered in his grip and blood followed.

''You will be avenged old friend!'' Says Áed as he goes to have his hand tended to.

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(POV Shift: Fergus mac Braenen)

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A week had passed him.

He was within site of Meath.

As much as he knew he needed to get to High Chief Áed mac Gormlaith quickly, running his horse to death was a bad idea.

So while it wasn't exactly a cruising speed, he hybridized his speed between that of a trek and that of a sprint.

Took breaks that both he and his horse needed.

It was night now, and he had a small shelter built on a hill. It wasn't the best location but it gave him a clear line of sight and left his only concern being the possibility of an animal or bandit attack.

He had a fire going cooking some Venison.

He had always loved Deer meat and growing up in New Zealand in his old life he lived in a country with a hunter-gatherer culture. Now Deer like any species had a population that you needed to carefully control lest they became a detriment to the environment as they had in 2022. But you didn't want to over hunt them and ou really didn't want to kill Does and young bucks. You wanted the Stags and older Does.

You wanted it because by culling the older generation of animals you killed te excess in numbers, but you also preserved the the species capability to survive.

Sadly such a desire was unlike to Take root quickly enough which was why he had five cultural traditions he really wanted to institute in Ireland.

1. Culinary Mastery.

Everything Irishman should strive to producing the finest tasting meals from even the most bare bones of ingredients.

Anything less is insulting to the Chef.

2. Blacksmithing.

The art of Metallurgy would be incredibly critical to the progression of Technology. Not too mention the value it had for a future economy

Establishing a Tradition like this would ensure that his people had a headstart in any Metallurgy involved innovations from the Early Medieval to Late Medieval era's onwards.

Plus it just made a lot of sense.

3. Shipbuilding.

A tradition of dedicated Shipwrights, much like with Blacksmithing ensured development of technology and investment of economy.

But it also allowed the Irish culture to potentially become Europe's first real and true Naval Superpower.

4. Stalwart Defenders.

Protecting Ireland meant protecting its territory to the end. But more to the point it meant protecting the Irish People. He hoped to instill a fierce protective instinct into Ireland as well as a Communal Identity. This extended to a Sacred Hospitality, where the taking of a man or woman under your roof was to guard them danger.

Only the Guest could decide when to leave.

5. Chivalry Traditions.

Men Knighted by him would be compelled by a code inspired by virtues to defend Ireland. The Virtues being Temperance, Bravery, Generosity, Diligence, Patience, Humility, Courage, Compassion, and Mercy. They had to embody at least one. If a warrior was judged by him to possess them all, he would be Entombed in a Grand Mausoleum honoring him at his death.

If a Knight broke the code willfully and knowingly and showed little regard for their actions or the code, then all other Knights were to be compelled to hunt the renegade and end his days as a Warrior. Cutting off his hands, removing his tongue and leaving him to die by crucifixion to a cross at the shoreline. Left to die either by thirst, starvation, the elements or for a man to take pity on then and mercy kill them.

He had put a lot of thought into this. If he introduced these ideals and traditions as well as technological innovations from the Tribal to early Late Medieval Era's Ireland stood to do the metaphorical fucking instead of England.

He couldn't live forever, nor did he wish to, but he hoped these traditions would stand the test of time and prevent the shit Britain ended up doing pre-1900. He had nothing against them personally. But they didn't have the cultural traditions that could have prevented the many fuck ups with more than one native culture.

Native Americans and his original homes native Maori being most notable for him. Oh that reminds him, Slavery. Keeping a person in chains for servitude will be a taboo. Prisoners are one thing but indentured servitude and all other forms of Slavery would never take root in Ireland if he had any say in the matter at all.

Which as a future King and Emperor of Ireland, he did!

''Almost there.'' He says as he chows down on his meal before deciding to turn in to sleep, wanting to be able to leave at daybreak if not just before sunrise.

With any luck, he'd be able to meet High Chief Áed by tomorrow afternoon...

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