The Tale of Two Kingdoms – Year 1325
Posted: Fri Oct 17, 2025 5:16 pm
London – Heart of the English Kingdom
The year 1325 was a year of unrest for London. On the throne sat King Edward II, weakened by disputes with the nobility and by the discord with his own wife, Queen Isabella of France.
The streets of the city were choked with smoke, the stench of fish, and tension. The markets on the bridge over the Thames buzzed with rumors of an approaching war with the Scots and growing discontent among the people of the North.
In the Tower of London, messengers from all corners of the kingdom gathered. At night, one could hear the footsteps of soldiers and the muffled voices of councilmen arguing over whether the king should send yet another expedition north. The king was torn – on one hand, he longed for glory, but on the other, he knew that each new war might break the spine of his realm.
In the city’s poorer quarters, whispers spread that the Scots were preparing to strike again, even planning to seize Newcastle – the gateway to the North. London’s merchants began to arm themselves, and the Church warned that “God’s wrath shall fall upon those who spill their brother’s blood.” Dust and doubt hung over the city, and the king’s throne began to tremble.
________________________________________
Oxford – City of Learning and Secret Conspiracies
Oxford was then not only a center of learning but also a cradle of dangerous ideas. University masters held scholarly debates about the king’s divine right and the will of God. Among the students circulated forbidden texts about the freedom of the people and the notion that royal power must be limited by the counsel of the nobility.
In a dim chamber of the inn The Crown and Sword, men gathered with a different purpose. They were envoys from Nottingham seeking the support of learned men to obtain the king’s seal on a charter granting them greater self-governance. The Oxford scholars listened – some secretly agreed, saying, “A king who does not hear his people, does not hear God.”
By day, the city echoed with prayers and the chants of students; by night, secret seals of defiance appeared on parchment. From the libraries and cloisters of Oxford began to spread ideas that would later shake the very foundations of English power.
Thus, in the year 1325, Oxford became not only a city of wisdom – but the seedbed of revolution.
________________________________________
Nottingham – The Settlement of the Lost Men
On the edge of Sherwood Forest lay Nottingham – a town encircled by wooden walls that resembled a military camp more than a proud city. The locals called themselves the Horde of Nottingham, for to survive here was to fight for everything.
After nearby villages fell under Scottish raids, refugees, outlaws, and deserters fled to the town. From them arose a rough yet determined community. Under the leadership of a man named Gareth Blackhand, a former knight, the town transformed into a fortress of defiance.
Each night around the fires, tales were told of Scottish warriors and vengeance. Gareth vowed that if King Edward sent his soldiers, the Horde of Nottingham would rise and march north. But the king remained silent.
So Nottingham became a symbol of unyielding common fury – a place where ordinary folk refused to wait for salvation. In 1325, the horde set out north on their own, burning Scottish villages and vanishing into the forests.
The chronicles speak little of them, yet old songs still sing:
“From Nottingham came a horde that feared no king –
And in the soil of England, their name was written in blood.”
________________________________________
Newcastle – The Gateway to the North
Newcastle was the fortress of England. Its castle stood upon a rock above the River Tyne, and from its towers one could see the smoke of Scottish watchfires beyond the border.
In 1325, the town lived under martial rule. Every man over sixteen bore a sword or bow, and every woman knew the path to the caves that served as shelters. The castle’s governor, Sir William de Greystoke, was a stern but just man. Day by day he inspected the walls and noted the losses – so many horses, so many men, so much timber for new catapults.
In spring, word arrived that the Scottish king, Robert the Bruce, was preparing an incursion as far south as York. Newcastle prepared – blacksmiths worked through the nights, grain stores filled to the brim, and the townsfolk prayed that the River Tyne would remain their faithful guardian.
When the first battle came, the castle bells rang – the Scots had arrived. The fighting raged for three days and nights, and though the town held, its walls were stained with blood.
From that time on, Newcastle became a symbol of northern strength – the gate that no enemy could breach, though many had tried.
________________________________________
Floors Castle – The Watcher of the Border
On the northern frontier, in the green hills near the River Tweed, stood Floors Castle – a stone fortress belonging to the Earl of Roxburgh. In 1325, the castle was half in ruins, yet it still served as a sentinel between two worlds: England and Scotland.
The earl, Alaric de Roxburgh, was a divided man – his mother a Scot, his father an Englishman. He was the son of two warring bloodlines. When he saw the flames rising from Newcastle on the horizon, he knew the war was closer than anyone believed.
Each night he stood atop the tower, gazing north toward Edinburgh – his mother’s city. He longed for peace, but his knights called for vengeance. Thus, Floors Castle became a place of betrayal and of hope – a place where history was written not by the sword, but by the heart.
Legends tell that it was here, in 1325, that a secret pact was signed between several English and Scottish nobles who sought to end the bloodshed. Though the pact was later betrayed, the spirit of Floors Castle endured – a symbol not of the border carved in stone, but of the one drawn between war and peace.
________________________________________
Edinburgh – Heart of the Scottish Kingdom
Edinburgh in 1325 was proud and defiant. After Robert the Bruce’s great victory at Bannockburn (1314), the Scots held their independence, and their city grew in beauty and strength. The stone castle upon the rock stood unconquered, and the royal council met in halls adorned with hides of English war banners.
Yet even here, peace was fragile. War had exhausted the land; hunger stalked the people, and many wondered whether the price of freedom was too high.
In the lower town gathered merchants and mercenaries, bringing word of English armies massing in Newcastle and of turmoil in London. Among them spread the legend of a man from Nottingham – Gareth Blackhand – who had vowed to bring the English horde to the very gates of Edinburgh.
The Scots prepared. Beacon fires blazed on border towers, and new weapons were forged in secret cellars. King Robert Bruce was already ill, yet his will remained iron.
In his chronicle for the year 1325, he wrote:
“When the day comes that England and Scotland shed blood only for land, and not for truth, then honor shall die.
But as long as we fight for freedom, the mountains shall sing our name.”
The year 1325 was a year of unrest for London. On the throne sat King Edward II, weakened by disputes with the nobility and by the discord with his own wife, Queen Isabella of France.
The streets of the city were choked with smoke, the stench of fish, and tension. The markets on the bridge over the Thames buzzed with rumors of an approaching war with the Scots and growing discontent among the people of the North.
In the Tower of London, messengers from all corners of the kingdom gathered. At night, one could hear the footsteps of soldiers and the muffled voices of councilmen arguing over whether the king should send yet another expedition north. The king was torn – on one hand, he longed for glory, but on the other, he knew that each new war might break the spine of his realm.
In the city’s poorer quarters, whispers spread that the Scots were preparing to strike again, even planning to seize Newcastle – the gateway to the North. London’s merchants began to arm themselves, and the Church warned that “God’s wrath shall fall upon those who spill their brother’s blood.” Dust and doubt hung over the city, and the king’s throne began to tremble.
________________________________________
Oxford – City of Learning and Secret Conspiracies
Oxford was then not only a center of learning but also a cradle of dangerous ideas. University masters held scholarly debates about the king’s divine right and the will of God. Among the students circulated forbidden texts about the freedom of the people and the notion that royal power must be limited by the counsel of the nobility.
In a dim chamber of the inn The Crown and Sword, men gathered with a different purpose. They were envoys from Nottingham seeking the support of learned men to obtain the king’s seal on a charter granting them greater self-governance. The Oxford scholars listened – some secretly agreed, saying, “A king who does not hear his people, does not hear God.”
By day, the city echoed with prayers and the chants of students; by night, secret seals of defiance appeared on parchment. From the libraries and cloisters of Oxford began to spread ideas that would later shake the very foundations of English power.
Thus, in the year 1325, Oxford became not only a city of wisdom – but the seedbed of revolution.
________________________________________
Nottingham – The Settlement of the Lost Men
On the edge of Sherwood Forest lay Nottingham – a town encircled by wooden walls that resembled a military camp more than a proud city. The locals called themselves the Horde of Nottingham, for to survive here was to fight for everything.
After nearby villages fell under Scottish raids, refugees, outlaws, and deserters fled to the town. From them arose a rough yet determined community. Under the leadership of a man named Gareth Blackhand, a former knight, the town transformed into a fortress of defiance.
Each night around the fires, tales were told of Scottish warriors and vengeance. Gareth vowed that if King Edward sent his soldiers, the Horde of Nottingham would rise and march north. But the king remained silent.
So Nottingham became a symbol of unyielding common fury – a place where ordinary folk refused to wait for salvation. In 1325, the horde set out north on their own, burning Scottish villages and vanishing into the forests.
The chronicles speak little of them, yet old songs still sing:
“From Nottingham came a horde that feared no king –
And in the soil of England, their name was written in blood.”
________________________________________
Newcastle – The Gateway to the North
Newcastle was the fortress of England. Its castle stood upon a rock above the River Tyne, and from its towers one could see the smoke of Scottish watchfires beyond the border.
In 1325, the town lived under martial rule. Every man over sixteen bore a sword or bow, and every woman knew the path to the caves that served as shelters. The castle’s governor, Sir William de Greystoke, was a stern but just man. Day by day he inspected the walls and noted the losses – so many horses, so many men, so much timber for new catapults.
In spring, word arrived that the Scottish king, Robert the Bruce, was preparing an incursion as far south as York. Newcastle prepared – blacksmiths worked through the nights, grain stores filled to the brim, and the townsfolk prayed that the River Tyne would remain their faithful guardian.
When the first battle came, the castle bells rang – the Scots had arrived. The fighting raged for three days and nights, and though the town held, its walls were stained with blood.
From that time on, Newcastle became a symbol of northern strength – the gate that no enemy could breach, though many had tried.
________________________________________
Floors Castle – The Watcher of the Border
On the northern frontier, in the green hills near the River Tweed, stood Floors Castle – a stone fortress belonging to the Earl of Roxburgh. In 1325, the castle was half in ruins, yet it still served as a sentinel between two worlds: England and Scotland.
The earl, Alaric de Roxburgh, was a divided man – his mother a Scot, his father an Englishman. He was the son of two warring bloodlines. When he saw the flames rising from Newcastle on the horizon, he knew the war was closer than anyone believed.
Each night he stood atop the tower, gazing north toward Edinburgh – his mother’s city. He longed for peace, but his knights called for vengeance. Thus, Floors Castle became a place of betrayal and of hope – a place where history was written not by the sword, but by the heart.
Legends tell that it was here, in 1325, that a secret pact was signed between several English and Scottish nobles who sought to end the bloodshed. Though the pact was later betrayed, the spirit of Floors Castle endured – a symbol not of the border carved in stone, but of the one drawn between war and peace.
________________________________________
Edinburgh – Heart of the Scottish Kingdom
Edinburgh in 1325 was proud and defiant. After Robert the Bruce’s great victory at Bannockburn (1314), the Scots held their independence, and their city grew in beauty and strength. The stone castle upon the rock stood unconquered, and the royal council met in halls adorned with hides of English war banners.
Yet even here, peace was fragile. War had exhausted the land; hunger stalked the people, and many wondered whether the price of freedom was too high.
In the lower town gathered merchants and mercenaries, bringing word of English armies massing in Newcastle and of turmoil in London. Among them spread the legend of a man from Nottingham – Gareth Blackhand – who had vowed to bring the English horde to the very gates of Edinburgh.
The Scots prepared. Beacon fires blazed on border towers, and new weapons were forged in secret cellars. King Robert Bruce was already ill, yet his will remained iron.
In his chronicle for the year 1325, he wrote:
“When the day comes that England and Scotland shed blood only for land, and not for truth, then honor shall die.
But as long as we fight for freedom, the mountains shall sing our name.”