The reason is pretty simple: I just couldn't get the hook. Every time I came at it, I found myself writing a less interesting version of the Empire's story, and basically because their stories have to be similar to some degree. Two races of humans trying to reclaim ravaged and shattered lands after the war that got them all killed. I really couldn't see a way around it, which was why ultimately I decided that the actions of the sieges had to be played down. This couldn't be a story about the land of Bretonnia because it would be too similar to what I'd done for the Empire. This really had to be about the people of Bretonnia, and this was where I finally managed to get some hooks.
Once I'd wrapped my head around this, I first made the decision that the story should largely revolve around the new Bretonnian king, Jerrod. Readers of the End Times may remember that Jerrod was invented for those books, and ultimately used to facilitate Games Workshop's almost bizarre vendetta against Bretonnia. If you think I'm being a moaning grognard, remember that before the End times Bretonnia went a bewildering eleven years without any sort of update. During the End Times, they were made to look silly, crapped on from a great height and ultimately portrayed as suicidally selfish and stupid (in the godawful Archaon book Jerrod leads his knights away before the battle despite knowing that if they don't win the world will end, just because he's having a little tiff with Lileath). Still, there was a kernel of something good in this sea of absurdity - the concept of a young, unprepared king who barely remembers peacetime as an adult. Oh, whilst I'm pouring salt, I dismissed the whole 'the Green Knight was Gilles all along' because it really achieved nothing: he comes back with a big bang in Nagash, is mentioned as sitting about doing not much in Glottkin and is then never mentioned again. What's more, in Glottkin Louen Leoncourt actually still acts the part of Bretonnian King, leading the crusade and being all heroic and stuff! They introduced this messy extra element and then kind of forgot about it. So with this in mind, I decided that Gilles' return was just a 'wild rumour'. I kept Louen's death because that was actually well delivered and decided that instead of having Jerrod turn into a pathological idiot, we'd stick with the idea first presented in Nagash of him as a capable guy swept up in events. Now, this meant he had to have someone to talk to and do exposition if necessary. I'd already included Matthias the Heroic Warden in my Endgame novella, so I decided to keep him around. Canonically, Matthias is just a heraldry devide in the 6h edition book, but my friend James had developed him into a grizzled hardcase character. Incidentally, I'm aware that he has an indo-European version of my name. Let me assure you, I'm nowhere close to being that cool and it is slightly embarrasing. But there we are. Blame James.
Anyway, having the idealistic Jerrod and the cynical Matthias gave me an idea that I could tackle the disparate portrayals of Bretonnia: is it the Land of Chivalry or the land of brutal oppression? I think maybe it can be both, which is why Jerrod and Matthias both have the desire to consciously address the mistakes of the past. I figured, if this inconsistency exists in the minds of hobbyists, why not in the Bretonnians themselves? It also led to the fact that no society can stagnate for long, especially after a period of vast upheaval. There's an abjectly ridiculous bit in the 6th edition army book where it's said that the guy who invented the trebuchet was rewarded with two copper coins and a fattened pig, which is more than he would have earned in a lifetime. Come on, people. I know we rightly kick AoS for asurd writing, but that's completely ridiculous. No economy could possibly work under those circumstances. If copper coins were inestimable riches to the peasants, then those coins simply wouldn't enter prouction. Currency needs a wide circulation in order to create the impression of value. It's an extreme example, but it does lead to the point that you couldn't keep a population as wretchedly as some portrayals of the Bretonnians given the technology available and the fact that there's no central army. Think about the Cornish Uprising, Jack Cade's rebellion or especially the Pilgrimmage of Grace: the early modern uprisings started over a lower degree of oppression and genuinely rattled England's leadership. Cade literally sacked London and executed the High Treasurer, whilst the Duke of Suffolk was quickly forced into negotiation by the vast host of Pilgrims in 1536. And what's interesting is that to a degree, these rebellions were successful. They didn't get everything they wanted, but they did manage at least improvemens to the status quo. If the Bretonnian peasants were being treated as badly as the 6th ed book suggests, the pitchforks would have been out. There's also a secondary issue here: how could the commoners be so universally downtrodden given that they provide a good portion of the skilled labour? Engineers, craftsmen, ne assumes shipwrights - these are all, from what we've seen of Bretonnia, peasant skillsets. There would need to be an emerging middle class somewhere to make this society work. To be fair, Robert Earl's novels actually touched lightly on this idea.
I settled on L'Anguille as the basis for a real renassiance of the peasants because it's coastal, thus would have access to trade routes. Trade would have taught the people of that city to innovate and to learn about other cultures. Readers will notice an alarming resemblance between the character of Maximilien Brewer and a young Robespierre. This is quite intentional, because I wanted to convey the idea that this has revolutionary qualities, but I also wanted it to be a much quieter, soft-revolution, arguably comparable to the British social changes of the inter-war period and the post-war consensus (as associated with Attlee, Bevan, the NHS etc). Now... this is where it was a little tricky and I hope I've managed to at least vaguely pull it off. I did not want Bretonnia to be a Poundland Empire. Nobody wants that. I wanted to create the idea that this is a medieval society where progress is both necessary and inevitable, but keep it as the land we know and love. This is why the models I've created largely maintain the chivalric, Arthurian feel of Bretonnia. Credit should also go to the seemingly indefatiguable Matthias Eliasson of the Warhammer Armies Project, from whom I have replicated the rules for Hippogryph Knights.
On a final note, the tone may be a little choppy in places. As I say, I've rewritten massive swathes of this repeatedly. It seems to make sense to me, but the flow may be a shade wobbly.
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