Stories Thread

Constantinople 1111

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op done with AG help :yes:

The time and place had been selected months in advance. In that time more than a few incidents had occurred to make this meeting more important than merely keeping an eye on "The Organization".

Waiting patiently in the gloom of hot evening Apionnas toyed with the frayed silver cording on the hilt of his scimitar.

This meeting was certainly going to have more substance to it than he first envisaged.

A dark cloaked man with a red raven emblem appears from the darkest part of the alleyway. "You wanted to speak to us?"

The familiar raised eyebrow was lost on the the figure due to the gloom. The tone of voice more than made up for it.

"That depends entirely on you my friend. Are you Aleksander?"

"And if I was?"

"Then I would know who I'm talking to. I generally prefer that in the conversations I have with people."

The man seems to struggle with something. "I am not Aleksander, although I do know of him..."

"Hmm, well then at least you are aware of my relationship with him...I hope.

Your organization has been implicated in the incident at Iconium. Are you able to confirm this to be the truth or not?"

The man considers for longer this time. "I can confirm it..."

Apionnas shakes his head.

"What exactly is your organisation trying to accomplish? I'm finding it hard to determine from where I am standing?"

The man is about to say something, but suddenly clams up and seems almost gripped in terror.

"What the hell is wrong with you man?! Are you in danger? Are you meant to be here meeting with me?"

Another, very familiar voice speaks up. "The danger he is in is danger he brought about himself. And he will be meeting with whom he is supposed to very soon. Time to atone for your sins, Nikitas."

The cloaked man turned to run as fast as he could, but Ignatios was faster, tackling him to the ground. Ignatios brought up a dagger to strike, screaming. "This symbol does not belong to you! You do not deserve life for what your kind have done!"

Apionnas snakes a hand out and grabs Ignatios's wrist in a vice like grip.

"Stay your hand Ignatios!! Killing him is surely not the way to exact revenge!"

Ignatios gaze refuses to waver from poor Nikitas, who's terror is evident. "I must do this Apionnas, it is not for me that I do this. I must reclaim the symbol he cares, the Red Raven. And he...he has no place in this world."

"Have you lost all your senses. Who compels you to murder someone!? Reclaim the symbol but cold blooded murder is not you Ignatios. Think man, before you do something you may later regret."

With that Apionnas removed his hand from Ignatios' wrist.

Ignatios holds the dagger in the air for awhile before ripping the raven emblem from Nikitas back. "You are not worth it Nikitas...go, die from your own shame." Nikitas fear turns into pure panic and outright cowardice as he begins to run from the alleyway.

Grabbing the older man by his shoulder Apionnas turns him so they are facing each other.

"I wont pretend to know what is going on here Ignatios, but you should certainly consider dropping these games of espionage and sedition. You seem to be on a knife edge and you are clearly not able to keep balance.

If you need assistance I can help you if you wish it?"

Ignatios sighs deeply. "Apionnas, there is much going on...and I wish I could confide in someone. I grow tired of staining my hands Apionnas...but someone must do what I am doing. I cannot allow such people, such traitors, to continue to do what they did at Iconium...will you listen to my story Apionnas?"

Holding the man's gaze for some moments, Apionnas finally releases his grip on the Ignatios.

"I will. But not here. We shall retire to a safe place near here."

Ignatios nods "Agreed."

Ignatios lead Apionnas through the winding streets, and those without a very good sens of direction would have long since been lost. Suddenly Ignatios seems to pick a place at random and enter it. The place he chooses though seems lived in well enough, with a small bed and a neat stack of clothes. Off to one side is a tray with several glass tubes and a what seems to be vile liquids and powders. A belt of throwing knives sits of to one corner.

"We can talk here in private. I am sorry for leading you in circles, but I had to make sure no one was tailing us."

Ignatios sits down and offers the only chair in the place to Apionnas.

"Where shall I begin? With the formation of the Organization or when it went wrong?"

Apionnas remains standing. Leaning against a wall he takes in the room. Turning back he folds his arms.

"Begin with the formation and then what went wrong?"

"It started when I first met Aleksander in Constantinople, near the Da Milano villa with a young girl who he had saved from the fire that had consumed the villa. I watched him for a bit, thinking that I was hidden well enough. When he suddenly left, I decide to step out and check to see if the young girl was okay. Instead, I felt a blade upon my back: Aleksander had doubled back faster and more quietly then I would have ever expected."

"Instead of killing me, he offered me a chance, join his "Organization". I agreed, unknowing he was in fact creating it as he spoke: me and the young girl, Veronica I think was her name, were his first recruits."

"We went on to gather even more people to our cause: protecting the Empire. But to Aleksander, who had seen and heard the apathy and the treacherous tendencies of the nobility...to him, it was the people, the common man, that was the Empire. The first thing we set out to do was rid the Empire of it's rampant underground, and we were successful at first: most of it was all loosely held together or very fractious at best...until we met Markellinos."

"It went downhill fast from there. Markellinos was an army deserter, and he had taken his whole unit with him, and with their experience, they proved difficult to uproot. That is, until we captured Symeon. There was something about the man I did not like, but Aleksander took a liking to him. They thought the same way, acted the same way, even had the same ideals...but there was something more sinister about Symeon."

"I investigated, followed Symeon around. I soon learned he had alternate motives in 1098, when he ransacked the Princess's room. I tried to warn Aleksander, but all he did was chastise Symeon. It wasn't until 1105 that in my attempt to catch Symeon, he tricked me into switching places with him: that is how you captured me. Afterward, I learned that he had soon after went on to rebel against Aleksander in my absence."

"I lost all hope at that moment, not knowing if Aleksander was alive or dead. All I could do was to regain what was lost, and to hunt down the traitorous scum one by one..."

Ignatios takes a death breathe and gets up to get a pitcher of water. He pours himself a glass and drinks from it first. After a few seconds, he then pours a glass and offers it to Apionnas.

Apionnas reaches out and takes the glass. He then slowly places it on the table by the door.

"Go on. Continue."

That was, until I met-" Ignatios pauses for a moment and when he hears a series of knocks at the door. He turns to Apionnas, and brings up a finger to his lips. Ignatios then walks silently over to the door, and with dagger in hand, yanks it open and seizes the man in the door way. "Ignatios! Please! You seem more paranoid everyday! Oh, hello Apionnas, interesting to meet you here." Ignatios releases his grip. "Kyrillos, please, stop doing the knocks in reverse order."

Shaking his head in slight surprise.

"Kyrillos, I'd suggest you start explaining your involvement. You know I can have you removed from Imperial service. My master will not be impressed if he finds out you are not loyal."

As Ignatios moved back to his seat, Kyrillos smiled gleefully. "I thought a man in my profession always had his loyalty in question." Kyrillos made a swift bow to Aponnias. "But, since you ask, I have Imperial Orders to find and locate someone from the Organization for interrogation. As it turns out, Ignatios was only to happy to oblige me, although, I must say, I feel as if he has wrapped me into going on this mad little quest of his..."

Ignatios turns back to glare at Kyrillos. "Enough Kyrillos, why have you come here now? Were you tailing me again? I thought I had detected someone in the alleyway."

"I've heard nothing until now that makes me think this isn't simply some crazed group of subversive nonsense. You've skirted around everything of any substance until now Ignatios. I wont expend anymore time on this endeavour unless that changes now."

Ignatios looks up at Apionnas. "What would you have me do?"

It is clear that Apionnas is becoming increasingly frustrated. He continues in an even tone however.

"Why don't you continue from 'That was, until I met...'

Ignatios looks at Apionnas thoughtfully. "If I tell whom I met, I want you to agree to help him. I also ask that he be is not reported to his immediate lords...I will give my life to protect the trust this man put in me, and I will not break that trust."

"My life is committed to the service of the Basileus. If I regard what I hear as something he needs to be informed about then I am compelled to advise him. That is not something that is ever going to be in question. You must decide if you wish to go further and if there is anything you want from me. To be honest Ignatios I'm not sure if this meeting will be worthwhile for you.

I came to investigate a lead on this organization and I have not seen anything until now that is out of the ordinary or reason for great alarm.

I leave it up to you how to continue."

Ignatios shakes his head. "Then you do not know Symeon as I do. The man will not stop until he has what he wants, and if that means setting fire to every city in the Empire, so be it. I am sure you know of his involvement at Iconium? He plans to do that in as many cities as he can before the Caesars term as Megas is up...and unless he is caught, he will continue to press on."

Ignatios leans back and exhales deeply. "I wish to ask you to do something for me, and in return for this, I will render whatever service you ask: protect Iakovos for me. I owe his brother a debt that I don't think I will ever repay..."

"You're right. I do not know this 'Symeon' at all. If he wishes to continue in his activities as you have outlined then he will find the full might of the Empire directed against him. I doubt he will be able to function effectively if that occurs. He seems to have made a fatal error and that is to be identified clearly as the main antagonist.

As for your request. I already have a responsibility to three people, that will possibly grow. I will do what I can for your colleague, but if things are not as they seem then I can not promise much. If his situation is 'just' and 'true' then I will use all my influence to ensure his safety."

Ignatios smiles wearily. "Thank you for that, it is now one more thing that unburdens me." Ignatios turns to look at Kyrillos. "Since you seem fit to do nothing except eavesdrop, why do you not go and alert our benefactor as to the current situation."

Kyrillos makes to object, but quickly closes his mouth and turns to leave.

"Do I wait here Ignatios? What is the next step in this?"

Ignatios shrugs. "I think it better if you return to the Emperor. If you need me, you can find me. Just ask Kyrillos..."

"Indeed."

And with that the young Saracen officer leaves.

An offer
Constantinople, 1110

(Done with YourLordandConqueror's approval)

Late into the night, Methodios slowly closed the door to the bedroom where his wife Zoe lay in their bed, with their little girl Hypatia sleeping next to her in her crib. Thinking of the kindness of life to have given him such angels, Methodios silently made his way to his study. Sitting down behind his desk, he went back to studying the maps of the Mediterranean sea.

He remembered how Zoe had taken the news when he told her he would go “Crusading” to Egypt, how she had been afraid of him losing his life on this distant soil. It had taken days of talking to her for Methodios to convince her that it was what he had to do. She finally saw the urge behind Methodios’ motives for leaving and accepted to let him go.

Now, the men had been recruited and the fleet had been commissioned. In a few days, they would set sail on this “Holy Mission”.

Methodios didn’t care one whit for the fact that the mission was presented as Holy by the Patriarch. All he saw was men and women in grave danger of death at the hands of the Caliph, bent on venting his fury on unsuspecting Christians, most of them merchants, craftsmen and farmers, with no means to defend themselves. Defending these people is what drove Methodios to join in the Crusade. And searching the depths of his soul, he knew there was another : a longing for the battles and the feeling of life lived at its fullest that they brought.

Absorbed in the maps and accounts of sailors of the sea routes to Egypt, Methodios was not immediately aware of a subtle change in the room. But gradually, his senses honed by years of living a soldier’s life, he began to feel that the light breeze that came from the open window was less than what it was minutes before. Slowly reaching for the dagger that rested on a corner of a map, he started from his chair, overturning it and in a single pace was at the window and grappling the dark silhouette of the man standing on the threshold of the balcony.

The man moved fast and managed to free himself but Methodios moved faster still and anticipating his opponent’s next move, tripped him and dropped upon him on the floor, pinning his arms with his knees. The man writhed but Methodios’ dagger to his throat stopped him.

“Now, what have we here ? A robber ? A spy ? An assassin ? State your business and fast before I kill you…” Methodios said, inching his blade closer to the man’s throat, drawing a drop of blood.

“Methodios… Please… Stop… I’ll explain…” the man said within gasps.

“Then do it fast… I do not have a reputation for patience…” Methodios warned, surprised at hearing the man calling him by his name.

With a shake of the head, the man pushed away the cowl that had obscured his features until then. Shock made Methodios release his grip on the man and take a step back.

“Aleksander ?” Methodios said in an unbelieving whisper.

Rubbing his wrists, the man slowly stood up. Large of build, with long dark hair, the man still retained some of the youthful innocence that Methodios remembered though it seemed clouded by the knowledge of the world.

“Yes… Methodios… It has been many years since you promised to take me on your next mission, remember ?” Aleksander said, with a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry to have intruded like this but my life is at risk and I must take all steps necessary…”

“Your life at risk ? Coming into my house like this, it surely is… I could have killed you there…” Methodios said, chidingly “But I thought you were dead… Your father, your brother…”

“Yes… I wish I was… Dead with them… But Destiny had something in store for me…”

Methodios relaxed a bit but kept his dagger at hand. Sitting back behind his desk, he motioned Aleksander to sit in the chair in front of the desk.

Once sat, Aleksander started telling Methodios of how he had been away from the army camp, training with his bow when the Turks attacked. Rooted by fear, he had been unable to join in the fighting alongside his father and brother. When the battle had finished, he slowly made his way through the camp and found the bodies of his father and brother. Stricken by grief and shame, he had remained there until Turk soldiers found him and carried him away in chains with some survivors of the massacre.

Aleksander then recounted how he was sold as a slave in a Turkish market but escaped some years later and almost managed to come back to the Empire, only to fall from exhaustion and heat-stroke as he neared Cannakale. The people who found him thought him dead and laid him in a shallow grave by the roadside. On awakening from his stupor, he found himself buried alive and went half mad from it. Gathering the last of his wits, he succeeded in clawing his way out of it. He was found by members of the local underground and taken in.

There, unable to face his mother and brother Iakovos with the shame of what happened during the battle, he merged himself in the underground. He saw how the poor suffered whoever ruled in Constantinople and an idea wormed itself in his head : to unify and use the underground as a tool in the service of the Empire. Slowly, he went up the ranks of the local underground and then took over other gangs until he had the basis for his “Organization”, intent on protecting the empire from whoever threatened it, be it the Emperor himself.

“I have heard of your Organization, Aleksander… I am still unable to believe that you can be in league with such people ? Why have you threatened the Princess’ life and her daughter’s, for God’s sake ? That’s pure villainy…”

“Methodios… I had nothing to do with that… I assure you…” Aleksander pleaded “You must understand… There are forces at work here over which I have no more control…” Aleksander hung his head in his hand.

“I ask nothing but to believe you, Alex… But I’ll need more to believe you…”

“Most of the Organization has been wrenched from my hands like a toy from a babe, Methodios… Now, its members seek my death… All because of misplaced trust…”

Aleksander then told Methodios of how he met Symeon and struck a friendship with the man, of how Symeon slowly wormed his way through the Organization, little by little gaining control, until Aleksander found himself in a minority and with his life at risk for opposing Symeon’s plans for the Organization.

“Methodios, you must believe me… Symeon is a religious fanatic… He has taken over the Organization with only one thing in his mind : spreading the Orthodox faith around the Mediterranean and beyond, whatever the costs in human lives and whatever the means to achieve those ends…”

“And why come to me at this time, Alex ? For protection ? You have it… You can stay here as long as you want… My house is yours…”

“No… If I remained here, you’ll be in danger… Your wife and kid’s life would be put at risk, and that I cannot allow… But I heard you joined the Crusade… I am here to persuade you not to go…”

“Not to go ? And what of all those poor souls condemned to death on a whim by the Caliph ? I can’t stand by idly and wait for them to die… I have to do something… That’s why I’m going…”

“But don’t you see Methodios that you’re playing in Symeon’s hands by going to Egypt ? He’s in league with the Patriarch…” Aleksander said, a concerned look upon his face.

“you’re making that up, aren’t you ?” Methodios said, disbelieving what he just heard.

“No… Though it would be almost impossible to prove… On my honour, Methodios… I speak the truth… The Crusade is only a ploy for the Patriarch to gain power and turn the Empire into some kind of theocracy… Please, do not play his game… Remain here…”

“There is another option, Alex… What if someone were to beat the Crusaders to the finish and refused to recognize the Patriarch’s authority but professed their loyalty to the Emperor… That would throw the plan out of kilter, don’t you agree ?”

“Yes, I suppose it could” Aleksander said, considering. “Would you do it ?”

“I have no love for the Patriarch and I have no love for the God of Christians, though I should perhaps not be telling this… I didn’t join the Crusade as a Holy Soldier but simply to procure help to those beleaguered people in Egypt, the fact that they are Christians is of no matter to me… I know of some people who are in accordance with me though for different reasons… Right now, you stand alone in your fight Aleksander but join us and we could become powerful… Egypt could be our stepping stone… Once we have Egypt, we can start a House and I’m sure our numbers will grow… Then we will be able to defy Symeon and the Patriarch and expose their plans… What say you ?”

“It could work, Methodios… But I’ll have to remain in the shadows… For now, my credibility has suffered through the actions of Symeon… If I came to the light, I would be arrested and thrown in jail…”

“Then maybe you could act as our liaison with the Organization and our contact with the other Houses... And what of Iakovos ? Shall I tell him I saw you ?”

“No, please… Don’t…” Aleksander recoiled as if burned “I’m not ready yet to confront him… I must redeem myself first…” Standing up and walking to the balcony, Alksander added “I must go, Methodios but we’ll meet again before you leave… There is much to do if we want our plan to work…” Putting his cowl over his head, Aleksander takes tow steps on the balcony then vaults over the railing.

Methodios walked to the balcony to see the lone figure of the man crossing the garden and climbing the wall to the street.

“Goodbye… My friend…”

******

Somewhere between Constantinople and Thessalonica, 1113

Two shadowy figures approached an abandoned house. Looking around before entering the taller one enters first and after couple of minutes he signals and the other one enters the house. In the far corner of the room a small man sits on a bench.

"This is the man, My Lord" said the tall man.

"So you are Miklos?" asks the other one from the man in the corner.

"Yes, that is me, Lord Laskaris" answers the man.

"Silence! We do not use names here!" shouts the tall man.

"Calm down, Ioannis. There is no one to hear us!" says Efstathios quietly.

"No one that WE can see!" answers Ioannis and looks outside the house from a small and dusty window.

Efstathios smiles. Again he is involved with some suspecios deals. If only other Senators would know what he is doing. He smiles again.

"Now.. Let's talk about the business then.. Did you managed to fulfill your mission?"

"Yes, My Lord. I changed the maps. If the weather stays like it has been past couple of days then they wouldn't notice anything before they reach get near Constantinople!"

Miklos smiles when he thinks about that.

"Good. This will make that Solomon guy think twice before he tries to sabotage us again! Here is your reward!" says Efstathios and hands a small bag of gold to Miklos.

"It is a pleasure to serve you, My Master!" says Miklos while taking the bag. He then bows and leaves from the house.

"Ioannis, we should leave too. We have much to do tomorrow! We need to catch the other Crusaders before they get too far away!"

Ioannis opened the door and making sure that no evil eye is watching them and then nods to Efstathios. The two leaves the house and rush towards their horses that were left a mile from the house hopeing that no brigand have taken them.

((Coop written with YourLordandConqueror and PrivateerKev))

Antioch 1111

Anna paced in her study, often glancing at the window with annoyance. The bad weather made keeping time painfully difficult and she had no idea when Makedonios would arrive. The powerful winds which whistled through the window's small openings did little to improve her disposition.

Juliana looked over at Anna, long since cleaned and now properly dressed. "Your Majesty, is there anything I can do for you? I brought some tea from the kitchen if you like."

Declining with a wave of her hand, Anna stopped and moved to her great wooden desk, brimming with many documents, all neatly arranged in several piles. She took a sheet a absently scanned through it. "Do take some if you want too."

Setting the tray down, Juliana poured herself a cup to sip from. "Your majesty, can you tell me more about Lord Makedonios? What is he like?"

"He is a good and kind man." Anna's gaze left the paper and rose to Juliana. "Are you worried... or merely curious?"

Putting her tea down, Juliana considered Anna's words. "I suppose your Majesty, a little of both. I have heard of the illustrious Order of St. John and of it's leader, but I am not one to take to rumor and prefer to know the truth myself." She smiled at Anna, but her face turned a little worried. "But I also feel trepidation at the thought of speaking of the...Organization. You must understand, it is a death warrant for a commoner to speak of them to the nobles..."

"I trust Makedonios implicitly, so should you. The Organization will never know of your part in this." Anna gave her a reassuring smile. "And should they ever find out, I can ensure your safety."

Juliana nodded respectfully to Anna. "Thank you your Majesty...is there anything I can do for you while we wait for the Grandmaster?"

"No." Anna rose from the desk and moved to a nearby window. "He should be here soon."

Makedonios walked to an apartment he had made available to the Princess in Antioch. He made his way cloaked alone. Well, not really alone, but his men moved in shadows in parallel streets and through the sewers. He also had either bought or purchased all neighboring property next to the apartment the Princess was staying in. Men from his army regiments hid inside. After everything that had been happening lately, Makedonios Ksanthopoulos took no chances.

He entered a nearby building and walked downstairs to a cellar. His men were waiting for him and opened a hidden door that led to a tunnel. Walking underneath the street in the tunnel, he came to the basement of the building the Princess was staying in. He took off his cloak and checked his appearance in a mirror.

Makedonios then strode into the room the Princess and Julianna were staying at, loudly enough so his sudden appearance would not surprise anyone.

At his entrance, Anna turned on herself and smiled.

"It is good to see you again Makedonios." She indicated Juliana. "This is the girl I mentioned, she might be of some help to you."

Makedonios smiled to Anna but kept it measured due to company being in the room.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Highness."

He then turned to Julianna and gave her a nod. "A pleasure to meet you."

Juliana blushed and bowed deeply to the Grandmaster. "Thank you Grandmaster, it is an honor to be in your presence. Your name is on the lips of quite a few of us commoners in the Empire."

Makedonios smiled. "I assure you that any good stories about me have been greatly exaggerated."

He then turned to Anna. "Your Highness, to what do we owe the honor of your company on this fine day?"

Anna moved back to her desk. "I thought you might want to discuss the Organization with her, she has an extraordinary knowledge of them."

His face hardened a bit when he heard the group mentioned. He turned to Julianna with a look of slight disbelief.

"Is this true? Where would you have heard of the Organization?"

Panic crossed Juliana's face, but she relaxed at a nod from Anna. "Yes, I know of them."

Makedonios stood there and patiently waited for Julianna to continue.

Juliana took a deep breath. "They work within the underground, killing off the criminals and any tyrannical ruler...at least, they did. The raven and wolf were symbols they carried were a sign of good tidings and help from the shadows...but now, they have changed. We hear of children disappearing, people losing there homes to fire that could not be put out, families tortured or robbed...it is enough to make one fall down and weep in despair."

When she was done, Makedonios replied.

"Now that second part is more like the Organization I have come to know. I don't buy this talk of some sort of benevolent secret society of thieves that go around helping people. What else do you know?"

Juliana nodded. "I knew one of them personally..he was..was my "client", but we grew close to each other. When the Organization turned, they came for him. I remember him standing defiantly before them, asking if they were out of there minds, how could they betray Aleks like that, and that Ignatios, Kyrillos, Veronica and all the others would come for them. They asked only if he would die for me. When he said yes, they killed him in cold blood and left without another word...forgive me, but I have tried to stay as far away from other Organization members since then..."

Makedonios nodded. "So let me see if I got this straight. The Organization was really a good group led by Alexsander. Then, one day, they became evil."

He turned to the Princess. "Your Highness, you have been the subject of their attentions. What do you think of this?"

Anna paused to ponder what had been said before replying. "I think there is some measure of truth in this story, but painting this group as either "good" or "evil" is somewhat of an oversimplification. Whatever their intentions, I distrust those who feel the need to hide their actions. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss her words. A division in the group will make it easier to get rid of them all."

Makedonios nodded. "That is the conclusion I came to as well. If this group really wanted to be helpful, they wouldn't hide in the shadows. If anything, the 'evil' part of this group is just a natural extension of when you have people who think they can operate outside of the law and society."

Juliana sat back down and then suddenly burst into tears. "Why, why, why?! What made them change? What made Aleksander so hated amongst them?! Why!?"

"Calm yourself, there is no need for tears." Anna spoke the words softly as she moved nearer to the girl. "Now, will you help us... as I helped you?"

Wiping a tear away, Juliana nodded. "Anything your majesty, I can never repay you for what you have already done for me."

"Good." Anna gave the girl a smile. "Now, would you leave us?"

Juliana nodded and walked out of the room, looking back at both Makedonios and Anna only once for reassurance.

Makedonios nodded to Julianna and waited for her to leave before speaking to Anna. Finally, when he was sure she was gone, he turned to the Princess.

"How are you holding up? I've been wanting to talk to you since you appeared in the Senate but I didn't think that would be the right place. I really appreciate what you did. If you hadn't spoken up in the Magnaura, the whole issue might have been swept under the rug."

Anna took once more a serious tone. "I did what I thought had to be done, it is as simple as that."

Makedonios gave her a small smile as he walked across the room to stand a few feet from her. "As usual, your far too modest. You could have stayed quiet. But you faced Hypatios to find out what happened and then you went into the Senate to tell us. Those people might still be dead but the person who ordered their death is now without power, and most importantly, without an army command."

She returned to the window, looking out to the gray clouds. "Now we need only to take care of the accomplices."

Makedonios joined her by the window but kept a respectful distance. "We'll get them. There are a lot of us hunting them now."

Anna glanced at him. "There is another matter." With those word she handed a small scroll to Makedonios.

He looked at the scroll and raises his eyebrow with curiosity. He chuckled a little when he spoke. "You don't give me the easy tasks do you? Well, if it were easy, it probably wouldn't be worth doing. I'll get right on it, Your Highness."

Makedonios then walked over to the candle on the desk and got the flame to catch the scroll. He set it quickly but calmly into the fireplace. He then turned to the Princess. "Is there anything else you need from me or wish to discuss?"

"No, there is nothing else of import." Anna gave him a soft smile. "But, I would appreciative if you stayed a while longer."

Warmed by her show of friendliness, Makedonios walked back over to her and leaned against the wall a few feet from her. "I'm always happy and honored to spend time with you. But I know you are always quite busy so I do my best to not take up much of your time."

"Well today," Her smile became playful. "I am yours for as long as you have the time to spare."

Makedonios' eyes went wide as his mind immediately flooded with thoughts that were less-than-pure. In his shock, some saliva went down his airpipe and he started coughing. Walking over to the desk, he took a glass and filled it with water from the pitcher. Taking a few gulps, the coughing subsided. He then walked back to his spot.

"Sorry about that Your Highness. I'm afraid I never totally got rid of this dreaded illness. Now, is there anything in particular you wish to discuss? I miss our talks on politics and history. Like you, I have the whole day free and would love to enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Anna's smile diminished as her voice became nostalgic. "I miss the sea and the beach, where you took me so long ago."

Makedonios' smile shrank but did not completely disappear. "I remember that day well. It is not an exaggeration to say that was the happiest day of my life. Seems like almost a lifetime ago." At that, his smile was gone. "I was so naive and innocent back then. I had life all figured out. I thought my Holy Mission would receive full support from the Senate." His expression then changed to one of hurt. "And I thought finding one's feelings and expressing them would be enough..." He left the sentence hanging as he realized what it was that he was saying.

"You blame me?" Her tone was measured, containing no hint of accusation.

His eyes showed genuine surprise. "No, I blame your father. I naively thought that caring about someone, and having them care about me would be enough to reach even his cold heart. But I severely underestimated the politics of the situation and his deep seated insecurity regarding the health of his dynasty."

Shaking his head, he continued. "So no, I don't blame you at all. I'm sorry for going into such a depressing topic but you brought up that night at the beach. It was a happy time but it was also the last gasp of boyish innocence. After that night, the cruel hard world of Byzantine politics was made very clear to me in a way I that has still left my head shaking at the sheer lack of human compassion."

Anna diverted her gaze away from Makedonios, as if in shame. "I should not have brought up the past like this, it was inconsiderate of me."

Makedonios shrugged. "Well, not talking about it hasn't seemed to do us any good either. I don't think it was inconsiderate at all. This issue has been broiling under the surface for years. Neither of our lives went the way we wanted. And while you have passed the situation off as you doing your duty, that does little to negate the fact that our situation was brought about because of someone's petty fear."

His features hardened. "So while I have done my best to accept this situation, I admit, something has indeed changed in me. My eyes are now wide open to the cruelness in the Senate. Maybe I latch on to the memory of the beach because it signified a time when I still believed that love could indeed conquer all." After the last, he looked down, obviously saddened.

"I.." Her countenance remained unreadable, yet her fluttering eyes conveyed a flurry of emotions. Anna moved closer to Makedonios, each of her step hesitant, until she halted abruptly and deviated her trajectory, ending up slightly behind him. "I am felling unwell, perhaps it would be best if you left Makedonios. We will resume this meeting at a later date." Her voice, although calm and soft as usual, could also be perceived as shaky.

He swallowed hard and turned to face her. "Of course Your Highness. I thank you for your time." He stared at her for a moment wishing to say and do more. "I will keep in touch regarding that matter. Take care."

With that, he started to leave but gave the Princess a moment to say something.

Anna kept her back to him as she moved tensely to her desk, not daring to look upon him as he left. Only once he was gone did her body relax with a sigh. She sat at her desk, but found herself unable to enter a state of mind appropriate for writing, her swirling emotions keeping her agitated until she retired to bed in the late night.

Cairo, 1114

So. The Crusade was coming. His soldiers, his people, had dodged a spear thrust when the Catholics had taken up the Cross and began marching on independent Jerusalem some years back, but it was not to be twice. Now, that devilish offspring the Patriarch of Constantinople had ordered that the Byzantine forces concentrate and strike like a dagger in the very heart of his lands: Cairo itself. The Caliph cursed himself. The Great Schism, splitting Catholicism and Orthodoxy, was supposed to weaken the Christian faith. It was supposed to benefit his people! Instead, what had happened was that when one spiritual leader focused his efforts on one particular area, the Caliph was not out of the woods yet, for he had to worry about the second leader’s whims. Curse the luck!

Clutching a translated copy of Nicholas’s Proclamation of 1110, he read it again in anger. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for that Vissarionas ek Lesvou escaping the city and making his way back to that temple of perfume and heresy, Constantinople, where he proceeded to loosen his tongue faster than a snake uncoiled when it was ready to strike prey.

The Proclamation spoke truth, yes. But, as the Greeks were so adept at doing, the truth was manipulated to serve their own causes. Yes, the monasteries were to be destroyed. Yes, the city was to be purged. But it was to save further bloodshed. The Caliph recalled the meeting with his advisors, that fateful meeting back in 1108, which he surmised someone had overheard and tipped this Vissarionas off, all too well:

It had started off normally enough. The Caliph, his viziers, and the other advisors were meeting in the usual chamber, discussing mundane events such as finances and minor campaigns. After some time, though, the topic had changed to a more contentious subject matter.

“Your Excellency,” said the Grand Vizier, “I believe it is now time to discuss the matter I had briefed you on earlier.”

“Yes,” said the Caliph, speaking in his usual deep, rich, self-assured voice, the voice of someone used to being listened to and respected. “The Grand Vizier recently received this letter and passed it onto me. The author is anonymous, but it is only because of that that I take this threat so seriously.”

“What does the letter speak of, Excellency?” asked a lesser advisor.

“I will now read directly from it,” said the Caliph, “for it is short and concise.” He cleared his throat and began reading out loud.

Excellency,

As someone concerned with the welfare of the people of Cairo, not to mention your continued blessed rule, the duty falls upon me to inform you of a nefarious plot being hatched by the Christians living in your very city. You have probably already heard of this, for you are wise and your gaze sees far, but if you have not, then consider yourself lucky that you did not go uninformed for any longer.

The plot concerns the Christians of Cairo rising up in armed rebellion. They aim to kill as many Muslims as they can and are specifically targeting the ruling class of Cairo: i.e. you, your family, and your advisors.

Under the leadership of one Vissarionas ek Lesvou, an Orthodox Greek currently living in the Christian quarters of the city, the rebels intend to use the ancient monasteries of Paul the Hermit and the like as a rally point to attract like-minded men from all over the Caliphate. Once a sufficient number of sympathizers have been recruited, they aim to march into the city and do what mobs do best. They will not stop until every single man, woman, and child in Cairo is nothing more than a stinking, smoldering, corpse.

I am not one to tell you how to act, Excellency, and I trust you will do so competently. I am just informing you of what certain people plan to execute under your watch.

Anonymous

“In addition to the letter, the author is so kind as to print this Vissarionas’s address below,” the Caliph finished.

“The Caliph and I both believe this man’s integrity,” the Grand Vizier said, “as do we the plan described. Frankly, the Gnostic and Coptic sects living in the city have been too quiet now for a while, as if they were plotting something. Here is the proof.”

“Obviously, there will be repercussions to this,” said the Caliph, “and they will be severe. We will start by depriving these rebels of a rallying point.”

“The ancient monasteries?” A lesser advisor now spoke up. “How interesting. Are we sure we want to proceed with this?”

“Absolutely,” said the Caliph. “I cannot allow this sort of thing to happen, after all. Yes, the ancient monasteries are to be destroyed immediately, the ones that are still standing. I've left them up for far too long as it is. This land, Allah be praised, has long been purged of heathen control.”

Everyone was silent, waiting for the Caliph to finish his thought.

“I think it’s time I finished the job. Clearly, any Christian influence in these lands, even a weak one, is blasphemous and ultimately detrimental to the good Children of Allah. It's time that we start following Sharia more closely.”

“What do you suggest, Your Excellency?”

“Expel some Christians from Cairo. Kill the rest. And make certain we expel those after we kill the others, so that the expelled know never to return. From now on, there will be no place for Christians of any denomination in Cairo.”

The advisors were silent for a minute, then departed, all bowing to the Caliph before doing so. Soon it was just him and the Grand Vizier in the room.

“Send five soldiers to the address on the letter as well,” he ordered the Vizier. “If Vissarionas is identified then have them kill him on sight. This rebellion will be crushed before it has the chance to even begin.”

The Vizier, nodding, bowed and followed the other advisors out of the chamber, signaling the end of the meeting.

Yes, someone had tipped Vissarionas off about his move, just like someone had tipped him off about the rebellion. Aliya was the first suspect, of course; after all, it was through her that he was granted access to the Palace in the first place. “Greek tutor,” he had been. Bah! In the Caliph’s mind, the only thing worse than an infidelious relationship was a treasonous one, and he suspected Aliya and Vissarionas had been in both. She had first proclaimed innocence and ignorance again and again, and then, when sensing fate was not on her side, had managed to charm him just enough to make him hesitate ordering her arrest, time which she used to climb out one of the windows of the Palace and disappear.

However, the past was past. The Caliph, unfortunately, was stuck in the trying present, with numerous Byzantine forces incoming and hell-bent on taking his capital. He would have to react. He would have to counter.

And would defense be enough? Should his forces perform as true soldiers of the Caliphate should, the Greeks would be deprived of a great many men and nobles, leaving them gutted at home. Would it be enough, though? When Vissarionas ek Lesvou sought refuge in Constantinople itself after his flight from Cairo? Of course not.

The Caliph drew inspiration from the two swordsmen, always fighting. When one lunged in a desperate attack, and it went either wide or was parried away, the attacker was always left out of position. In this situation, any good blademaster would always follow up the defense with a punishing counter-attack. More often than not these moves would be successful enough to end the fight.

Yes, the Byzantines were lunging. And in doing so, they were leaving themselves very vulnerable. For lunging, for threatening first through arousal of rebellion and then through outright war, the very Muslim way of life, they were vulnerable. And they would thus be subject to the most ferocious counter-attack the Caliph could offer.

It was time for a Jihad.

OOC: Welcome to Part 2 of the 3rd in-game event. Now those people who didn’t go on Crusade will definitely have something to do.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op with woad&fangs :yes:

Near the coast of Anatolia, 1114

A large rowboat approaches Efstathios' flagship. On the boat are 10 men, all carrying short swords. A shortish man with brown hair and eyes stands and shouts at your quarterdeck.

"LASKARIS!!! Show yourself!"

Efstathios looks at the rowboat and seeing the armed men inside signals his crusaders who take their weapons and take their positions to defend the ship if it is necessary.
After that he says calmly..

"I am here. What is the purpose of this 'visit'?" he asks.

"I've came to inform you that we caught the rat who has been sabotaging us. After some, 'aggressive interrogation' he squealed out the name of his master."

At Solomon's signal a body, tightly wrapped in cloth was revealed.

"I thought you would be interested to see the execution of your man"

Two of Solomons men then dump the body into the sea and watch it sink. If only Efstathios would know that there were only some rocks and straws in it.

"What an interesting entertainment. I suppose this is the way you like to entertain your men.
Oh well.. This happens if you interact with the men like Monomachos."

Saying that he stayed calm. Not one muscle moved in his face when he saw that poor man falling into the deep water.

Solomon glares at Laskaris

"Do not insult my friend. Your quarrel is with me and me alone. Not my friends, not my men, just me. Your neck would already be removed from your body for the sea charts fiasco if Makedonios hadn't ordered me to stay my hand. Now however, the slipknot your assassin used endangered not only me but every man who sails with me. I have a duty to see them safely to Aegyptus. If you ever endanger my men again I promise that I will drink from your skull"

"Do not give promises that you can't keep!" says Efstathios with annoyed voice.

Signaling couple of sailors he says..

"Also.. As long as I remember I have never used an assassin. Perhaps a spies but never assassins!" he smiles while saying that.

Looks at the sailors he nods and the men crab crossbows and point them to Annios.

Laughing

"By all means Laskaris, strike me down here and now. Show the empire what kind of man you really are.

You may call your agents whatever you wish, but to me a man who attempts murder for an employer is an assassin. Whether he attacks with a knife or slipknots matters little to me."

"Oh.. you misunderstood my attentions. I do not want to kill you. My men are protecting you from .. umm .. dangerous flying fish... They are really mean in these parts of the world! Although it would be a sad moment if one of those arrows miss the target and hit you!"

Efstathios smiles fiendishly...

"And I think that Empire knows what kind of man I am. A peaceful man. A smart man. Smart enough not to go threaten someone with just 10 men to support me!"

"Dear Laskaris, you misunderstand my intentions. We are only armed to protect ourselves from those dangerous flying fish you speak of. Of course, it would be a shame if one of my men missed and hit you!

Solomon's men grab crossbows lying on the floor of the boat and raise them in Laskaris' direction.

Solomon smiles fiendishly back at Laskaris

"Hmm.. Looks like it's time for tea. You can stay here and 'hunt' those 'flying fish' if you like. But I have to say that my men aren't that accurate and they probably miss the fish and hit 'something' bigger instead."

Saying that Laskaris turns and walks towards the captains room.

"Just remember my promise, Laskaris..."

Solomon's boat rows away

Co-op with Ituralde


Trebizond, 1113

Lisas Attaliedas entered the castle through the west gate, and was uplifted by what he saw.
He had been granted the province just a few short years before, and thought it would be a backwater, but everywhere he looked there were workmen, building homes, carrying wood and just generally improving the town, as in the older part, Lisas saw dwelling that were little more than mud huts.
He’d been invited here by Pavlos Chrysovergos, his lord, who he would be meeting for the first time.
When he asked the sergeant in charge of the gate where he way, he pointed in the vague direction of the castle, grinning “just a little way up there sir”.
Lisas assumed the grin was this sergeant’s idea of friendliness and smiled back.

On the way to the keep, he got slightly distracted in the way of an arrow landing in front of him, kicking up some mud onto his boots, looking to the right he saw several wooden manikins with target rings on their chests, the worse part was that the targets were facing him.

Anger surged through him as he snatched the arrow up and marched, bodyguards in tow, into the building and behind the group of what he hoped were new recruits, who were all looking longingly at their targets, barely a single arrow disturbed the ground in the middle of the range and the targets stood in perfect condition, all less than 100 feet away.
The anger grew, he looked at the recruits, all had self bows, one had a bow that was far too big for him and only the welsh (whoever they are) are stupid enough to use, several more had what were clearly child’s toys (barely thicker than a finger) a few didn’t have strings, one or two hadn’t even bothered to bring arrows, their captain, a man whose face seemed to ask why he was being punished with this group, was praying or bargaining with God, Lisas caught the last few words
”….so please God, let them not have to do anything important or difficult, cause if they do they’ll all end up in your graces, and not even the most patient of saints could bear this lot for long, amen”
behind him, a man loosened an arrow and caught his cheek with the drawstring, he recoiled as though punched in the face as his arrow went flying over the back wall.
Lisas called for practise to stop
”May god have mercy on the empire, that was terrible, how many arrows have you released today?”
the captain stood up, tears in his eyes, as though his prayers had been answered.
”Sir, I apologise, these men have only had a weeks….”
”A weeks practise!, half of them don’t even have bow strings! No-one has hit the target! One of you almost hit me and I was behind the range! You act like that in battle with the Turks and they won’t even bother to fight! And they’ll still win! Your mothers must be ashamed and your fathers probably pretend you don’t belong to them! Christ almighty I don’t think I’ve ever seen something that bad! And I’ve seen what passes for an order of St. John drinking contest!”
”Which is why I’ve put in for transfer” muttered the captain
”this is how you do it” Lisas demonstrated with his own compound bow, putting an arrow clean through the neck of the furthest target….. Some 80ft away
”that’s barely over 60 feet, you all have one week to be able to do the same, or I’ll have you used as live targets for a group with some semblance of skill!...and I’ll have them use javelins! They can hit a target at 60 feet, you cannot hit a target!
John, stay behind and make sure that I don’t have to do that” The indicated man began unwrapping his own bow and looked at the group with disgust.

Lisas and the rest of his guards left the group with some very forlorn looking faces, one of his guards turned to him “Sir, are we in the right city?” two large Komnendoukai banners floated from the top of the keep mid way down it towers.
”what? Of course we are…why would you say that?”
”well sir its just, archers from trebizond are supposed to be amazing aren’t they? And they… looked like they’d never even seen a bow before.”
”well.. after manzikert most of the veterans and trainers spread out across the empire, the kingdom of Pontus that Domestikos Chrysovergos defeated barely had any skilled archers so I’m presuming they didn’t let the traditions carry on” Lisas gave his name to a guard who opened the keeps main door for him “that’s high on my list of stuff to do, get the traditions of archery and some trainers back”

Once inside the keep the castle steward greeted them, gave directions to Lisas’ room for his guards to take his baggage too, and the little assembly room (a passing maid grinned) where he would meet Domestikos Chrysovergos.

Lisas entered the room, took sight of Pavlos and bowed, whilst looking at the floor he smiled; the man was a head shorter than Lisas, who was just under average height himself.
”this explains a lot” he thought “people must respect him not to make jokes to his face, maybe I can learn from this guy”
but he said out loud, after rising from his bow, remembering to keep his face impassive.
”Sir, I am Comes Lisas Attaliedas, reporting as ordered.”
Pavlos was obviously expecting his guest. On the small table in front of him stood two wine goblets and an empty chair was set to face him. His gaze fell on Lisas shortly after he entered and his grim expression hasn't changed an inch since then.

"Comes Lisas Attelaiatas welcome to Trebizond! Welcome to the Pontic frontier! It is good to finally see you outside the bustle of the bloody Senate. You look young to me, what year where you born?"

Frowning slightly he turned his head to one side and looked the man up and down.

Lisas was slightly taken aback by the question, though he didn't show it

"I'm unsure sir, my mother says it was the 1060th year of our lord, and I was 11 when I heard the news of the disaster at Manzikert, though since then I seem to have aged most gracefully since I turned 16."

he took the seat that was offered, and noticed it was specially made so Lisas now sat below Pavlos.

"Ah, this particular vintage is from Caffa I think, I confess I'm impressed, it usually doesn't make it out of the crimea or Constantinople"

Lisas announced, gingerly sniffing the bottle.
"1060. You realize that the sum of those digits is Seven, which is considered by many to be a lucky number. Also just this morning a flock of raven circled the Castles Eastern wall three times." He looks long at Lisas as though this should mean something to him.

"It is indeed from Caffa, I don't know if you are familiar with the history of this place but Trebizond used to be an important trade hub. Many trade routes from the East ended here, from where goods of the known world were shipped on to Constantinople."

"I haven't sent for you to talk about the quality of wine though, however bloody fine it is. The internal structures of the Komnenodoukai have led to you swearing that Oath to me, let's be honest about that. You don't know me, I hardly know you yet between the two of us we find ourselves rulers of the once great Pontus!"

Taking the goblet in front of him, Pavlos takes a sip, a brief smile passing over his features, before he returns to watching Lisas with his usual grim expression.

"Tell me Lisas Attaleiatas, what kind of man are you?"
Lisas took a momment to compose himself, ravens and numerology? maybe, he thought, that this man waas just a weird old mountain man that paid too much attention to bird entrails, maybe he was testing him, he looked Pavlos straight in the eye, "A rational one." he took a sip of wine before continuing
"If you want me to sum up my political position, then I believe in a strong and clear constitution, with focus on maintaining the spirit of the law, instead of needlessly punishing people for accidents but definate punishment for deliberate breaks, like Hypathos at Iconium, other than that, I feel that so long as a senetor doesn't harm the empire, he should be able to do anything he likes, and should he need to break the law for the greater good of the empire, than he should without question"
he paused taking another sip,
"I also feel that every man has a vice, should it not be drinking" he lifted his goblet "or whoring, like half my retunie, than he's not to be trusted, cause then he either preferes the conpany of men, the taste of that muslim drink, sneaking around in the night with another mans wife, or some other odd vice" he finished, answering what he hoped pavlos was going to ask.

He finished his goblet, it was actually quite sweet, he could definantly taste a trace of honey in there, and poured himself another one, starting on it as soon as the bottle was set down.

"If your wondering about my military views, then consider myself a flanker, I'm the son of a cavalry officer, and I read some of my dad's books in my youth.
I think our current reliance on mercinaries is a mistake and the empire should invest more in producing its own troops, heavy cavalry deffinantly, when I eventially get my own army, I dont want to get stuck commanding a bunch of nomads for my cavalry arm, they smell funny
other than that, I think that discipline will eventually win out over disorganised troops and armies every time, provided even numbers.
I think all that, gives you a good enough summary of what I'm like"

He decided to leave out the part about shouting at the group of archers in training earlier, something told him Pavlos wouldn't have just let them get away with a telling off.
Pavlos had done little else but sip at his wine while listening to the exploits of the younger man in front of him. Once he has finished he nods slowly and then rises. He walks over to a small window through which the surrounding countryside can be seen. Clasping his hands behind his back and gazing out he starts to speak.

"Do you know about the history of Pontus? It was always considered to be a place apart. Since the earliest times this has been an outpost of Greek civilization, strong but far removed from the centers of power. Many historians referred to these parts as barbaric, their institutions to be outdated, their feudal structures to be the first sign of failure."

"My ancestors were born in these lands, they have lived in these lands, and they died for these lands! Imperial intrigue always happened, but Pontus was apart. Still it didn't help in the aftermath of the bloody desaster that was Manzikert. We were left without help and overrun. You know, our Emperor Aleksios Komnenos, he was a military leader from the Black Sea Coast. He has given much to the Empire, his reforms have made us strong again. We rule again what we are meant to rule!"

He turns fromt he window to look at Lisas.

"This is why I follow this man, why I am part of a House that bears his name. We have the support of Constantinople now and Pontus is secure. But we both know that this will not last forever. Politics will cost their toll again, already the Senate is place for bickering fools that are only concerned with themselves. There might come a time, when the support from Constantinople fails, and Pontus will once again be part of the Empire but apart. I am sure that when such a time comes you will know where your true loyalties lie?"
Lisas listened intently on the history of the province, history being one of his hobbies since childhood.

"Yes, loyalty and trust is such a precious thing these days, you may rest assured though, that my loyalty lies firstly with the empire and the emperor, then to my family, then to the other senetors.
I do hope such a time doesn't come, as I know full well that its likely the komnenodoukai that will be attacked, I wont shrink from my duty if that happens, thankfully it doesn't seem likely for a few years, we have more pressing problems than the danger of a civil war for now, the crusade has left the empire weakened and the turks, though broken, are not yet beaten"
Pavlos nods slowly once again, seeming to turn the word of the man over in his mind.

"These halls have been walked by Greeks for centuries and I intent to make sure it stays that way. I am loyal to the Empire and the Emperor, but my duty will always lie with my people first." With a gesture he encompasses the surroundings. "These people. I trust you will take care of them while I'm gone on campaign. You vowed to make this a great fortress and I trust you to keep your word. Between Sinops rich markets and Trebizonds secure walls many people can prosper and I will make sure they do."

His gaze lingers on the man in front of him for a moment. Could he trust the man in front of him should a second Manzikert occur or was he dragging himself deep into Imperial intrigues?

"I'm sure you will do well. You may go now Lisas Attelaiatas, Comes of Trebizond!"

”Thank you sir” Lisas drained his goblet, and left through the door he entered, one he way out he found the steward, “how was he?”, asked the steward
”Just a little drunk” replied Lisas, smiling
”I’m sure you’ll fit right in” grinned the steward.

Constantinople, 1116

The Offices of the Patriarch of Constantinople were marked as such; a fairly large, elaborate building located somewhere away from the Basileus’s, closer to a large cluster of churches. A Byzantine eagle was present on the building, as was the Patriarchal seal also present on all official proclamations made by Nicholas III. In contrast to the “open-door” policy common among the churches, the Offices were closely guarded. If one was to walk through the front doors, they would find themselves accosted by multiple guards, perhaps half a dozen, asking them their business in this place. Most were turned away. Repeat offenders would be thrown back onto the streets, sporting a few wounds.

Inside, the corridors of the place were a maze, with twisting hallways, numerous dead ends, and not-at-all conveniently-placed staircases, some of them on opposite sides of the building. The halls were also sparsely lit, devoid of windows and artwork. This was done to create and further the impressions of size and sameness. The door to Nicholas’s actual office was relatively inconspicuous, with the only distinguishing feature being a subtle carving of the Patriarchal seal on it.

All of it - the guards, the layout, the Spartan-ness of the hallways – was done so intentionally, to fit in with the motifs that the Patriarch had wanted: mystique, inaccessibility. Was this where the Patriarch worked? Yes. Did you know it? Yes. Did you have any chance of getting in and getting an audience with him? Not on your life. Enter not this building, for inside resides the man whom God Himself speaks through.

The Patriarch’s actual office was more traditional, but then again, it was not known or appreciated or viewed as a sign of relief amongst the population of Constantinople, for the people who made it inside actually had business doing so in the first place. It was moderately-sized, much better lit, and had a number of adornments on its wall: A fragment of the True Cross, a woodcut of Jesus’s miracle at Cana, a painting of Constantine founding the city. There was a rumor that, hidden in the Patriarch’s desk, was the Titulus Crucis itself: The plaque that read “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews”, or INRI for short, but that was the stuff of hearsay, never to be confirmed.

Then, there was the man inside the office. Despite the power of his position, he was another one who had rarely been seen, and that was exactly the way he wanted it. He communicated almost exclusively through the written word, whether it be books, letters, or the Proclamations that the Senators of the Magnaura were now familiar with. If there was arguing to be done, his Representative (hand-selected, finely trained in the art of debate, among other areas) was there to do it – provided he wasn’t banned from the Magnaura by the Basileus.

Oh sure, there had been many requests for the Patriarch over the years, whether it be public appearances or private meetings. The Senators especially had wished for his presence. Meetings for general strategy? Requests for personal approval of charters of Orders? Go down to Athens to bless a church and then discuss the weather afterwards? Coronations of the unimportant? He had turned them all down – politely – and with good reason. The meetings, the blessing especially – they were the job of some two-bit mayor of a fishing village announcing the official opening of a market, not God’s representative on Earth!

No, the Patriarch had decided long ago, the Senators had just wanted them to use him as leverage. Get into a disagreement with me, will you? Well, I have the Patriarch on my side! This became quite evident in the Session of 1081, when his Proclamation was read, deemed “interesting”, and promptly forgotten. Words from such a man were not to be treated as such. It was only until Nicholas had offered a reward of exquisite armor did people follow his agenda.

Most of the Houses respected his position, but that was it. His words were taken merely as suggestions, weighted only as much as some lowly Strator’s, and not thoroughly studied as they deserved to be. Certainly, at least one House listened, but the Patriarch knew this was only because the Order of St. John’s goals, so far, had lined up with his. Had he pointed his finger west at Rome instead of east at Cairo and the Levant, he was certain that Grandmaster Ksanthopoulos would still argue to head to Antioch and pronounce his own reasoning correct.

It was after that Session of 1081 that the Patriarch made two decisions. First of all, considering the response to his words, he would become perhaps the most inaccessible man in the world. This was a success. The only audience that had been granted over the years with the Senators was with Vissarionas ek Lesvou, and that was only because the Patriarch had requested it in order to hear what his man had learned before he fled Cairo. Nicholas’s words would be few and far between, and as a result they would be more listened to. If the people of Byzantium wanted wisdom, they would have to first prove themselves worthy of receiving it.

His second decision was more an opinion of the overall situation than a course of action. In short, he decided that the Orthodox people, his flock, suffered from a severe lack of faith.

All of them focused on political gain rather than spiritual improvement. People wishing to destroy innocent lives in newly-conquered cities just to add to their already-wealthy coffers. Wishing to conquer land, not because it would mean more people would be saved, but because it would give them more power. Not even the royalty was spared from it. The Basileus’s whorish daughter, fancying herself to what appeared to be half the Empire. The Caesar, all but announcing his total disdain for the Crusade and instead focusing his attention on pleasing his supporters. Even the Basileus himself, taking priests along in offensive campaigns, converting the populace for public order reasons, not because it was simply the right thing to do. Yes, the Byzantine Empire was in desperate need of an injection of faith.

And who better to give it to them than their spiritual leader? He had sat and waited, establishing his reputation as a man who needed to be listened to on the few occasions he spoke, and then found an opening. In 1095, shortly after the close of that year’s Magnaura session, a young man, a Strator and Sergeant of the Order of St. John, had written to him, begging for penance to make up for his role in the sacking of Antioch. The Patriarch, sensing Vissarionas’s eagerness and willingness to do anything to erase the stain, quickly thought up a plan that would accomplish several things at once.

The boy was sent to Cairo, under vague instructions to work his way into the city environment and get far into the governmental proceedings. Hungry for redemption, he was eager enough to do anything. It was only a matter of when. Thus, the Patriarch began to wait.

Over the years, he had received numerous letters from Vissarionas, most of them long-winded and woefully uninformative things which said nothing of value. These were not letters to Mother, they were reports! It would have been much more efficient to say “no progress yet, am trying a different approach”. And so the Patriarch had waited still, occasionally replying with letters of encouragement.

Finally, in 1107, the boy had sent him something worthy. He had informed the Patriarch that he had made contact with one of the Caliph’s concubines, or perhaps the Caliph’s very favorite one, and now had access to the palace in Cairo as a result of his being her Greek tutor. Very soon, the spying would begin.

The Patriarch had then drafted the letter, informing the Caliph of a terrible Christian plot to rise up, form an army, and kill every single Muslim they could, with one Vissarionas ek Lesvou as the mastermind. It was all a hunk of lies, of course, but the Caliph, already a paranoid soul, didn’t need to know that. He would, naturally, overreact. To add credence to the letter, the Patriarch also put Vissarionas’s address in as a post-script, information gleaned from the boy’s many letters. The infernal things were finally good for something.

Naturally, this put Vissarionas at a great risk, but the Patriarch was confident in the boy’s ability to escape. Even if he perished, there would be no great loss, as he had other agents present in the city. His backups were unneeded, though, as Vissarionas had landed in Constantinople right before the Magnaura session, just in time to tell Nicholas of all the horrors that were about to transpire in Cairo.

The plan had worked perfectly, of course. As the Patriarch predicted, the Caliph had taken the bait and then some, highly overreacting to the point where he was ready to commit genocide. According to Vissarionas, it was fated that most of the Coptics and Gnostic residents of Cairo would soon die horrible deaths, not to mention the fact that the ancient monasteries were about to be torn down; material for outrage great enough to spur even the regrettably irreligious Senators into action. Nicholas cared little if there were any actual deaths among the Gnostics and Coptics. As far as he was concerned, they were heretical sects, only marginally better than the Muslims and no threat, unlike the Catholics to the west. Martyrdom would serve them better than life ever did. Besides, if the greatest man in history, Christ the Savior, had become a martyr, then surely some good-for-nothing breakaway sects could do it as well.

And so it was: The Crusaders were off, about to pass the point of no return on their mission. Naturally, the Muslims picked that time, the time when the Greeks were most vulnerable, to call their Jihad. The Patriarch was not surprised in the least; he had expected it, after all. More than that – he had planned it. What was once a muddled bunch of ideas in 1081 and a fuzzy outline after Vissarionas had written him in 1095 was now a clear and sharp strategy. Everyone was playing their parts, including the Caliph, whether he knew it or not. Of course he would call Jihad based on a perceived attack on his faith. The malleable fool was still under the impression that there was to be an organized uprising in his capital city, grounds enough to warrant the actions he took.

Yes, the Jihad would come – that wasn’t the important part. The important part was that it would be fought off (for that, the Patriarch had no doubt; he knew the fighting prowess of the Greek soldiers). The Orthodox faith would be defended when it mattered most, when the Patriarch had assured all it would be. Combine that with the undoubtedly to-be-successful Crusade, and all of sudden there would be two great, two massive, two enormous victories for Orthodoxy.

Then, maybe then, the Senators would realize the power of religion. Then, there would be a great swell of faith among the elite. Then, they would do the right things for the right reasons. Then, the wisdom of the Patriarch would go unquestioned and his detractors would be rightly ostracized.

Then, Orthodoxy would reign supreme.

Patriarch Nicholas III sat in his office, shut off from the rest of the world, dreaming of the utopian future he had set into motion.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op with Cecil.

Antioch 1114:

Armatos walks into Makedonios's command tent after the battle. The Grandmaster is yet again stuck in bed. Coughing into a napkin, he looks up as Armatos walks in and smiles.

"Ah Armatos! That was amazing work out there! We've yet again saved the city. I don't think the Fatimids will be sending raiding parties around here anytime soon."

Armatos saluted. "Thank you, Grandmaster." His features soon softened, and began to show signs of concern. "Grandmaster, were you injured in the battle?"

Makedonios shook his head in exasperation. "No, it's that dreadful sickness again. I never spent enough time resting." He coughs into a napkin.

"I've been thinking. I really need to take some time off. I've got to get over this once and for all. I want you to take over the army. I'm going back to Antioch to get some more rest. You basically have 2 choices. Either, this will remain my army and you'll simply command it. Or, this can be your army and the new one will be mine. It really doesn't matter which as long as we both have the paperwork clear. Because of the Caesar's naval movements, the new army won't be delivered for a few years anyways."

He pauses as he coughs again. "Your fully supplied. It's time for you to have your own command anyways. Which option do you want to do?"

Armatos thought for a moment.

"It would be easier for both of us logistically if this became my army. As for targets...

I'd like to weaken the Fatamids by marching to Gaza. Damascus is too full of heathens to be occupied without risking riots and other losses of life, and you'd be able to get back into the field quicker if you were looking northwards."

Makedonios nodded. "Then your army it is. Update your 'status and orders' to reflect this. I'll do the same. The army is now yours. The one that forms will be mine. As for orders, we have rebels up in north-east Antioch that I'd like to see dispatched. With the rumors of Jihad coming, I'd like to keep you close to Antioch for now. Send Nathanail and a horse archer unit to Antioch. Take the rest and go after those rebels."

Armatos saluted. "As you command, Grandmaster."

Makedonios nodded. "Dismissed. God be with you and good luck."

Nevoulas the archaeologist

Whilst the empire was battling rebels, launching blistering campaigns against the turks and moving swiftly on, little has been heard of the emotionally torn Nevoulas ek Philadelphius .

Following the hard fought political votes in the second senate, Nevoulas simply vanished completely from the political sphere. His reasons are clouded, never one to toast the spotlight the desperate (and in truth hasty) plea to attack the Seljuk sultanate had one him friends and enemies in equal measure. Nevoulas had returned to his now homelike Rhodes a confused and conflicted fellow.

Still doubts struck his mind... questions racked through his head and they were not the kind he could answer or discuss with any soul....

Nevoulas love and link with the empire was jaded, doubts racked him at every turn. Could the empire be so great when he saw such evil and treachery at every turn? Was this what had caused his brother to turn? The incompetancy that had led to the death of his father was still so prevelant?

He needed time to think... or maybe to withdraw from the public eye... his mind raced to the old ruins near the port of Rhodes dilapidated and untouched he had become quite taken to wandering through the area at his troubled times.

It was a travesty that such articles were left to rot and he decided to spend some time digging through and properly excavating such places.

As time passed, Nevoulas grew more and more withdrawn from the events of the empire and more into the ancient artifacts he was finding, records from years passed and stories of the old greeks fascinated him more than the events of real life. Indeed real life was proving more and more bothersome, he started to take actions that would result in Rhodes effectively being cut off from information from the mainland. To ensure no distractions, Nevoulas made the communities of Rhodes entirelly self sufficient and directed fishing vessels out into its own waters. Monies would be paid ontime, but he would accept no information or indeed incoming vessels.

At first there was concern that the Comes Hypatios who had been given charge of the isle would return. Fat chance of that thought Nevoulas.

Years passed... Nevoulas allowed his beard and hair to grow freely and his soldiers took wives and enjoyed their peace. Nevoulas never indulged himself as some of his guardsmen had but indeed was now completely involved in the complete excavation of the ruins of Rhodes.

Events of the empire though would one day put a halt to this as Nevoulas most faithful bodygaurd came to see him. Nevoulas was very reluctant to accept the incoming information but he knew his bodyguard would only interrupt him if it was something really important.

"Well then, what is it?" Nevoulas exclaimed "Nothing short of the Basilues visiting asteri's isle of wonder itself should interrupt me"

"My lord, thats just it, Rhodes is no longer the possession of the House of Asteri"

Nevoulas had a look of shock on his face... that snivelling little Hypatios...

"What has happened for this to be so?"

"The details are unclear but we recieved message today from Athens that the colours of the Asteri are to be taken down at once"

Nevoulas let out a sigh and turned to look at the ruins... he had barely scraped the surface of what he hoped would be his life's work. He knew Hypatios would come to Rhodes soon enough and he tremored to think of what he would do to the isle... one things for sure he did not want to be here himself when that happened.

"Call the guard together, we leave at dawn"

"But sire...."

"I admit it is troublesome, but fate has forced our hand we must leave!!!"

Egypt 1120

The journey had gone far better than expected. The preparations, the ship, making contacts with old friends and acquaintances.

Now a few months later here he was suddenly standing on the Egyptian shoreline squinting inland, his piercing blue eyes surveyed the desert in front of him. The Keffiyeh and dark flowing robes hid the red jerkin of armour he wore under his the Arab clothing.

It was good to be home.

Glancing back he observed the score of heavily armed men pouring from the fast sloop he had purchased specifically for the trip. They were already making preparations to get underway. It seemed they still knew their trade, at least that would make the mission that much easier he thought.

The following speeches are being given in public places in Constantinople to anyone who will listen. Written copies are being distributed throughout the Empire.

Against Makedonios Ksanthopoulos

So we hear the Order of St. John has suffered an inglorious defeat at the hands of our Saracen enemies. But did any reasonable man expect otherwise? To this day all they have accomplished was to take a few ill-defended settlements, and to complain incessantly about their situation. That Makedonios Ksanthopoulos has complained and complained about not getting his armies to defend the frontier, but why would the Ceasar have given him a good army, if it has now been proven that he and his followers are incompetent military commanders? If they had any troops of any quality at all, they would have only been sent to a pointless slaughter. It is clear to see.

It is clear to see to us now, but the mighty Caesar has always seen it, for there is no man so well versed in the strategy of war. Surely, he is the offspring of Julius Caesar and Megas Alexandros, if one of them were a woman... probably Alexandros. For it is as we speak that he campaigns in the enemy's heartland while the Turk is distracted in his Jihading through Pontus and toward Constantinople. He marches on the enemy cities, the forests themselves part in front of him, the ground flattens and bows to him, the furry forest creatures sing him hymns of praise! Unlike the most useless Ksanthopoulos, the blessed Caesar Ioannis, may his name never be taken in vain, attacks and has captured the mighty fortress of Tibilsi, the stronghold of the hated Georgians! Caesar's followers now attack the pan-glorious city of Yerevan, seat of the damnable Armenian scum, our greatest enemies! Its streets are paved with gold, its buildings made of marble, and it rains sapphires the size of Caesar's manhood!

Thus, when the pan-glorious city of Yerevan is sacked, it will be a great boon to the faltering treasury, and all part of Caesar's masterful plan. Did ye of little faith really think the Caesar would run the treasury into the ground without having conceived a perfect and exceedingly masterful plan? And what has Ksanthopoulos done? He sits in Antioch, allows the Jihadist armies to pass, and sends his followers and their rag-tag army to get defeated while only destroying some fraction of the enemy army, the remains of which still march on Constantinople. He has done almost nothing to protect the city or the Empire. His army was destroyed, and he will only use that as an excuse to complain for more reinforcements, while the tatters of the Jihad still march on our Constantinople!

Put your faith in Caesar! Put your faith in Caesar! Listen not to the mindless complaining of Ksanthopoulos. The Caesar will bring prosperity to the Empire, like which has not been seen since the days of Emperor Heraclius, defeater of the Persians. Not a single war with the Persians did we have since, and exactly so it will be that the Turks will be defeated by Ioannis when he is Emperor!

Demosthenes, Friend of the Roman People.

***

Against Alexios ek Ikonou

Grave, grave, grave times are these. Grave they are when the Peloponnese has to be defended by such men as Alexios ek Ikonou and Savvas ek Militou. Men who are such cowards that they have been in no major battle. Not even when the entire world revolted, no where near glorious battle did they find themselves. Ek Ikonou has spent his life in Corinth, and ek Militou's crowning achievement is that he watched the Germans as they harmlessly passed by.

But the Caesar's generosity knows no bounds! When he walks on the streets, he gives jewels off his crown to homeless bums, and gives them the clothes off his back, and the food from his mouth! So it was in his boundless generosity that he has allowed the Egyptian fleet, so small it was that it sank by attack of two German ships, to pass by unimpeded by the mighty Imperial fleet, and to land its troops on the Peloponnese. Yes, great act of generosity it was, for it was to give these useless persons in the Tagmatan house an opportunity to win glory in battle!

But he did not give them an army, no! How dare you suggest that the Caesar would be so foolish, when, in fact, he is a wiser wiseman than most other wisemen. Even two of the three wisemen, in that if he lived in those times, he also would have also given gold to Jesus, if any was left in the treasury, for gold can be used to purchase other things. So it was in his great wisdom that he saw that these incompetent men would not know what to do with an army. The Caesar sees it all. Some say he can see if a cow's udder is full of milk from half a mile away. But he is not just a seer, he is a doer. He wouldn't just look at that cow, he'd milk it, if it needed milking. He'd milk it 'till no more milk came from its teats, but was all in some sort of a bucket. Then he'd drink the milk, 'cause he never leaves a job half-finished!

Anyway, as it was, the Caesar saw that these men would be incompetent in command, so he left them without a proper army and only to do with what garrisons there are. Meanwhile, he has used what money there is to fortify mighty Dardanellia, so that the Jihads marching on Constantinople don't change their minds! Certainly, the scarce gold of the treasury would have been a waste on the likes of ek Ikonou and ek Militou. The Caesar has seen this, for he does see all, and he is a great administrator, peer of Caesar Augustus himself! Not just peer, he excels him too! In those times, they would have called him Caesar Super-Augustus Magnus Maximus!

So, hail Caesar! Hail him all day! Hail him all night! Hail him 'till you have exhailed yourselves! Hail him 'till the cows come home! And when they do, they will have already been milked! No cow remains unmilked when Caesar Ioannis, blessed be he by all the Saints, is around! Hail him, damn you!

Demosthenes, Friend of the Roman People.

East of Alexandria 1120

Moving between the two crusading armies was a gamble, but one that had to be taken in order to reach Cairo before the approaching Byzantine forces.

They had nearly been caught between the outlying pickets of Senator Mavrozomis force besieging Alexandria and scouts from the advance parties of Senator Ksiros army to the east.

In the end a sand storm had forced Ksiros's outriders to withdraw closer to the rest of the army in fear of being ambushed in hostile land.

More than one of his men had look at him strangely due to his behaviour at ensuring they were not seen by the Byzantines. He had not told them anything about the mission and now they were all clearly wonder just what they had gotten themselves into.

It didn't matter what they were starting to believe he thought, as long as they followed orders that was all that mattered.

Ignatios on the other hand was another issue. He had been brought along to ensure part of the mission was a success and his previous experience and affiliation would certainly confirm or deny the involvement of various elements back in the Empire. His furiously whispered argument had not helped at all in calming the men before the most dangerous and nerve racking part of the mission. In the end threats and force had to be used to ensure his compliance. He was certainly equipped for the mission and his various skills had already been used a great deal in getting them this far. The only problem was, his over inflated sense of religious beliefs.

In the end contact had been made with one of the officers of his former regiment, and now they were making good time in reaching the agreed point where they would meet with the current Amir on the outskirts of Cairo.

Time was of the essence.

Reaching Cairo ahead of everyone else and determining what was really going on was critical.

The Sea near the Egyptian coast, 1122

Efstathios sat on a barrel on the deck of his ship. He looked into the empty distance. The message of the Kosmas Mavrozomis' death shocked him a lot.

Kosmas was his Lord but also someone he could count on. A great man who have died too soon just like Markianos Ampelas.

"This can't be coincidence!" Efstathios said to himself.

"Two men from the Asteri have gone. Both of them after I joined the Crusade. Both of them died after I first ordered a sabotage against a fellow Crusader."

"This can't be coincidence," He said again.

Some sailors passed him and were looking him as people look the persons who talk to themselves. They were sure that a long voyage on the sea finally taking his mind.

But Efstathios didn't care what people thought about him. He blamed himself in those deaths that took two great men from their families.

"God is punishing me! He knows that I joined the Crusade only to revenge of the death of my father. God knows this! I must redeem myself!"

He stood up and sayd with a strong voice..

"God if You hear me then know this! I promise to bring peace and prosperity to our people. I will forgive to the people who have hurt me and my family! I feel no grudge against them anymore! To the end of my days I promise to be a good Christian who respects life! Yes, this I promise!"

After saying that he looked around him and people on deck saw something different in his eyes. A changed man.

THE ROMAN IMPERIAL SENATE, 1122 AD

Makedonios, Senator of the Roman Empire, rises in the Imperial senate to argue for the impeachment of the Roman Caesar.

Well, the complete lack of building in Order and Asteri settlements is unsettling. The lack of priests in this area of the world to spread the Word. The lack of merchants to make money. The lack of a stable navy in these parts. The lack of roads. The lack of watchtowers on our borders. The sinking of our resources into one corner of the Empire and a shiny new army for the Caesar while the rest rots from neglect.

So no, the criminal neglect of our armies is not my only concern. It is my most dire concern however since without proper armies, we can not defend the Empire or even our subjects in the Levant.

I will say that the Order served exactly the purpose I promised it would back in 1081. We were the flank of the flank. We met the Fatimid Jihad and kept them from the great city of Constantinople. While House Asteri generously offered to help us, we were able to do without it which freed them up to retake the settlement of Caesarea.

Unfortunately the wily Fatimids showed us that they can sail across the sea and strike at our heartlands. Comes Savvas was able to defeat the Fatimid Prince but he had to do so without a proper army. He had to scrape together various militias and units from other settlements.

My point is, we've all had to make due with what little we have while the Caesar makes his House fat and rich. And while we have been successful, that is not a strategy for governing an Empire. That is basically rolling the dice. The Caesar gambled that he could pursue his personal agenda and that the rest of the Empire could basically just "hold on."

Our subjects deserve better...

________________________________________

The previously nameless senator from Durazzo, Taranto Giovinazzo, simply rolls his eyes at the one known as Makedonios. Finally, he speaks.

"Such partisan grandstanding flows easily from one who does not bear the weight of leadership, and stands only to gain from undermining a leader, purely for his own political career."

Makedonios eyes the "senator" from Durrazzo curiously.

"Who are you?

As far as I know, the Senator from Durrazo is Efstratios. But he had a tirade over the Crusade and left.

I have no idea who you are but your sitting in his seat. Now, if your his aid, that is one thing. But your basically trying to be a Senator yourself. Sorry, but I do not recognize your authority and therefore will not be answering your questions. I talk to Senators and the aids and guests who know their place."

Looking at the Emperor.

"I ask that Taranto Giovinazzo be removed from the premises. He is not a legal Senator of the Magnaura. Efstratios or his representative belong in that seat, not some random peasant who feels like pretending he is a Senator."
_______________________________

Narrator-

"Taranto Giovinazzo, the impostor Senator, spy of the Kingdom of Sicily, is exposed by Makedonios for the fraud that he is, and the guards close in on him.

Just as they are about to capture him, Taranto Giovinazzo reaches inside his cloak and produces a grappling hook attached to a very long and sturdy rope. He whips the hook as hard as he can and it catches on one of the beams that run across the grand structure. With a jolly "ho ho!" the Sicilian spy swings over the palace guards and flips a full seventeen times in the air before landing on his feet.

The incredibly over-the-top and entirely unrealistic manner of his heroic escape has left him horribly, horribly dizzy and nauseated. Instead of rushing out of the senate to his inevitable freedom, he trips over his suspiciously large shoes and smacks his head against the stone floor. As blood pours from his forehead, Taranto attempts to regain his footing, but he is seeing stars, and lurches forward to vomit profusely.

Slipping in a puddle of his own abdominal spillage, he once again slips, this time landing on the back of his head. Blood pouring over his eyes, he struggles to turn over onto his stomach, but the slick stone floor prevents him from making any progress. He winces and cries out from the pain, and once again tries to get up. After several concussions and much blood loss, and twelve attempts to stand, Taranto finally rises to his feet and staggers towards an open window to escape.

Along the way, Taranto's mind begins to clear, and all the secrets of existence seem to be revealed to him. The severe brain damage he sustained against the floor somehow made the world seem simple and easy to understand. The meaning of existence, after centuries of discussion, is revealed simply to be the the logical, mathematically defined exception to all of the long odds against it's own being. For however unlikely is the birth of time and space and matter into existence, from nothingness, the mere fact that it is possible means that it is a mathematical certainty, given the infinite nature of nonexistence, that existence is possible. As for the meaning of life, it seems clear now that the purpose of human existence is to examine and document, as well as experience, the incredible and entirely unlikely possibility of the universe itself; to gain understanding over the nature of reality, metaphysics, mathematics, and harmony, and to take the lessons learned from that and apply it to one's personal code of ethics and philosophy, that one might bring reason, understanding, peace, harmony, and even life itself to other sentient beings, to help civilization discover more about this fantastic exception to the rule which is our very existence. The miracle of truth allowing the distinction between real and imaginary to generate the very fabric of our being, to allow for the concept of the laws of physics, of logic, of universal constants and the motion of time and space and energy, all while providing this existence with a form of justice.

As Taranto pondered whether or not a divine entity caused this great exception to nonbeing, and all the other metaphysical questions that have caused mankind to theorize and debate, and just as he was about to reveal to everyone in the Roman Imperial Senate the very truth of their existence, Taranto suffered a fatal burst of flatulence which caused him to explode, and the oil-fuelled lighting fixtures which provided light for the Senate chambers caused that gas to ignite into a massive fireball.

And so all that remained of Taranto Giovinazzo was a large spill of blood and vomit on the senate floor, and a large floppy clown shoe.

And a decidedly unpleasant odor."



__________________________________

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Written by PK and ATPG

Cairo 1124

Apionnas sat at his desk scanning the work he had completed to date. The place was a hive of activity as usual. It was a fully operational field headquarters now and had been operating as such for well over a year.

Years of infiltration, bribery, interrogation, observation and direct contact with members of his former regiment and the new Amir himself, had resulted in no direct evidence.

He could not prove to his lord what he had been sent to find out.

But, there was certainly more than enough evidence to confirm a number of things.

He had in his possession a copy of a letter sent directly to the Caliph. It clearly proved that the harsh and out of character response by the late ruler against all Christians was in fact a direct reaction to outside influences. The latest discussions with his former Amir had been revealing enough. Some sections of the Caliph's council and the Grand Vizier himself had privately warned against religious attacks and that such actions could be a trap as part of a wider plot. Unfortunately that had not stopped the command being given and the deaths of thousands.

He had not been able to determine what that influence was, but Vissarionas ek Lesvou had been identified as living in Cairo for many years as was clearly implicated in the events leading up to the back lash against the Christians in the area and the subsequent Orthodox Crusade. He had multiple eye witness accounts and direct interviews to prove that.

The prodigious amount of money made available to him had allowed a vast network of informants and spies to report back to him on nearly everything that was, and had, gone on in the city all those years ago. The amount of back ground information was damning to a great extent, but most of it was just that, background information.

Ignatios, had also been partially successful. The Organisation was certainly here. But in what capacity and to what extent was still unknown.

Now, there was another threat. Slowly but surely it was clear that another group was tightening its grip on them. First it was simply a few scuffles. Local thieves and thugs was the assumption. However recently the situation had became far more dangerous. Some of his agents were now being found dead and there was real pressure being placed to counter their work here. That in itself proved beyond doubt that they were getting closer. He had not made his thoughts known to the others, but it was time to leave before all their work was destroyed.

Temptation. Stay and risk everything they had collected to date, or leave, but with the job still incomplete.

Apionnas leaned back in his chair gazing up at the ceiling.

After a few moments he stood. The decision made. It was time.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Coop Story between Kagemusha and Ituralde

Yerevan 1224:

The room was dimly lit, only a few braziers positioned in the far corners cast some shadows over the large table standing in the middle of the room. The glaring sun outside was shut out along with the din of noises from the street by thick blankets draped over the large windows. Although they were meant to keep the heat outside too a thin sheet of sweat had appeared on Pavlos brow and he eagerly took a sip at the wine in his goblet coming from the relative cool of the cellars.

"Ah, Comes Kontakouzinos! Welcome to Yerevan, welcome to your domain. 'Tis a fine city isn't it? A bit warm for my liking, nothing like a good fresh wind blowing from the sea, that's what I say."

Pavlos had set down his goblet on the table as the other man had entered and walked a few steps towards his visitor, gripping Ioannis hand firmly and locking the gaze with the taller man.

"But please sit down. It must have been a long journey!"

Motioning to one of the seats he takes the one across from Kontakouzinos.

Ioannis was sweating. He had traveled with his small retinue, through Anatolia, witnessing both the harsh winter and hot summer. The hot arid weather of Armenia would have been harsh for him 10 years a go, but after experienceing the fierce weather of the Steppe and Carpathians, he had grown more tolerable against any kind of weather.

"My Lord. It is easy to say that this place is no Constantinopol. No Sea and surrounded by Mountains. Dry and hot during the summer and cold and snowy during the winter. But this place is as good as any to serve the Empire."

Ioannis said the first sentences with a joking tone and with a small wrinkle of a smile on his face. The latter with more serious tone on his voice. Kantakouzinos answered to the gaze of the older man with a firm but friendly expression and sat down, opposite to Pavlos Chrysovergos, the veteran of the Komnenodoukai and his new lord.

"It is indeed and you better get bloody used to it. Sinop, Trebizond, Tblisi and Yerevan, that we will be our power base, and hopefully Diyarbarkyr, for which you may use my Private Army. The storming of this place has shown me that I'm getting too old for these campaigns, it's time for my vassals to step up, eh?"

"The Caesar has told me that he will keep Nicaea and Can.. Dardanellia once he, you know, inherits the throne. Which brings me to my next point. We need to plan for the time when Ioannis Komnenos is Emperor. He will need our support and I am willing to give it to him, are you?"

Ioannis lets his eyes wonder around the room, while listening carefully when Pavlos speaks. Then when the older man is finished, Kantakouzinos turns his eyes towards the man opposite to him and replies.

" I have become blunt in my speech over the years, but that also means, what i say, i mean."

Ioannis pauses and turns his eys from Chrysovergos to the window and looks somewhere far, far away, somewhere where one cant see from the window of the place they are and he continues.

"As you know i spent years chasing my personal goals and to be honest, neglected my duties for the Komnenodoukai. I chased the love of the princess, i chased my own domain from the edge of the steppe, but when i got adopted by Caesar i fulfilled my main goal, which was to have Kantakouzinos and Komnenos family to be one.
My past actions might suggest that i live only for my only goals, but as my goals are filled, i live to preserve what has been achieved."

He turns his eyes from the window, to Pavlos and says with a determined voice.

"Now that my goal is filled. I will not let anyone or anything hurt my family, the royal family. You can be sure of it that i will be obedient to the Caesar to my grave and to you. You Pavlos Chrysovergos are the most senior of us to lead the Komnenodoukai house after Caesar succeeds his father and you can count on me to me stand by your side, what ever that will take. I am ready to kill any man who stands in the way of the Imperial family or our house, be it whom ever."

Ioannis pauses as his expression is getting once again more then diabolic, just like many times in the senate. He continues with a softer voice.

" I have one man in my retinue, whom i have lot to thank for my success. He foresaw that my destiny waited me in the North. Not like i thought that it would have met me in Iasi, but it met me in the Carpathian hills in form of rebel army. There i understood that serving the empire was the right path.

This man is called Petrus and he has lots of wisdom inside him. He can predict man´s future from the stars. Maybe one of these days you would like to meet him and test his skills?"

Pavlos smiles shortly, before his face becomes grim again, enhanced by the scar putting the left side of his mouth in a constat downcast.

"I bloody like a man who speaks his mind and this Petrus sounds like an interesting man indeed. Now that these things are out of the way there is an important matter we need to settle. Ampelas and that Crusader have shown that we are mortal so it's important that any such event doesn't catch us surprised. I have prepared a document."

He shoves a scroll from the table in front of him towards Kontakouzinos, the title is just readable: Will of Pavlos Chrysovergos.

"If you would set upt a similar document this should ensure that the power of the Komnenodoukai remains between the two of us. Of course after my death you're free to bloody change it as you will. We both know that the Caesar has made many enemies and supporting him as Basileos may put us in the line of danger."

"You offered to sacrifice your life for the Emperor and myself. I'm flattered, but my priorities lie differently. Once before the Empire broke because of inner strife and provinces like Armenia, Georgia or Pontus were lost. Should something similar occur again I will not abandon my people for the sake of Imperial intrigue!"

Pavlos steeples his hands in front of his face.

"I hope you will still follow me and offer a similar document?"

Ioannis reads through the document, picks up a scroll and ink and writes down few words and signs the document. Then with a quick motion he pull´s his dagger and cuts his thump, presses the bloody thumb on the pergament hard, leaving a wet splash of blood to the pergament.
Kantakouzinos raises up on his feet and offers his hand to Pavlos Chrysovergos with an expression of determination and mutual understanding on his face, saying.

"I understand what you say and i agree."

Pavlos graps the others ones wrist in a firm grip once more returning his determined look with his grim face.

"I'm bloody happy to have you as my vassal Ioannis Kontakouzinos!"

Ioannis replies.

"Its good to serve a master who knows his what he is doing."

The two men sit down and after a bit of silence and few sips of wine, Ioannis opens another scroll showing it to Pavlos and speaks.

"My Lord, maybe you would like to look something little I have been planning for the Caucasus border, once we have taken it all, I think this kind of system of forts could help us protect our border to Steppe."

The two men look at the drawings and start talking about the matter, as the mid days heat in Yerevan starts to turn into more tolerable evening weather of Amenia.

A speech is given in Constantinople before a massive crowd, and reproductions of it on paper soon appear throughtout the Empire.

On the Society of Secret Muslims and their Brotherhood of Friends,

Today I must raise a terrible spector of danger. Today I must warn you noble masses of an impending disaster. Today I must, though it pains me so, inveigh against a high born man of our Empire who, through his own actions, has indicted himself as a...

with a quirk of his eyebrow the white haired speaker pauses for a dramatic breath,

Secret Muslim!

Yes brothers, yesssss, such a vile desperado walks among the confidences of the Emperor himself unknown, unguessed, and unrevealed. He pours poison into the ears of our leaders, hoards wealth and resources for his private Muslim Brotherhood army. He even now has arrived at the Senate chambers and spews his insidious untruths into the nobly open ears of our own good representatives. He marched through these very streets, rubbing his secret crescent tattoo beneath his garmets and begging his heathen god's aid in subverting the Emperor.

And who is it that could so hideously betray the ideals of Rome? And who is it that mocks the most Holy Crusade our devout Orthodox brothers have undertaken? And who is it that rules a sect of the Empire dominated by falsely converted Muslims and full of assassins waiting to pour out their venom on your own defenseless persons?

None other than the most recent holder of the office of Megas Logothetes! None other than the man who invited a jiahd to pass him by and march on Constantinople itself! None other than the very beast who abandoned Markianos Ampelas and Kosmas Mavrozomis to be gutted by infidels!

None other than Caesar Ioannis!

I say again, none other than Caesar Ioannis!

It is said that the Emperor's wife was knocked down by a goat while Ioannis grew within her, and does this not sound precisely like how heathens breed? No fault can fall on the most noble Emperor for such an accident for any fruit may chance to roll far from the shade of it's tree, perhaps even into a dog's leavings, and rot!

Take note, wisest citizens, that no troops have been recruited for armies not under the control of his Secret Muslim brothers! Take note, most brilliant and beloved Romans, that no structures have been built except for the benefit of his openly Muslim civilians! Take note, please, please, I beg of you, take note that when the armies of Islam marched on our cities not one iota of effort did he expend to oppose them, nor will he ever, for it was at his behest that they marched!

On that black day when our Emperor falls, long be it in coming, will we allow ourselves to be ruled by a Secret Muslim? By a darkly evil brother in that most infectious of Brotherhoods? By a heathen who mocks the words of God and Patriarch?

Carry this close to your hearts my friends, and know it for truth, a figure shall arise to oppose these Secret Muslims. A figure clothed in righteousness, a figure devout and holy, a figure who has stood against the jihad and who has truly converted the heathens to the words of Orthodoxy. All glory to that man, all praise to his name, and may God deliver all power into his hands!

So says,

Isaeus the Truthspeaker

OOC: Okay, so this won't be nearly as funny to people who aren't following the more insane bits of US politics, but hopefully it'll get a few laughs all the same. FD's previous bits of propoganda were, naturally, of some inspiration as well. :beam:

:egypt:

A blue and red robed Saracen looking figure observes proceedings in the square where the speech is given. Once completed the hooded man departs in a measured stride. Those foolish enough to be easily motivated by the speech approach the departing figure with intent. They quickly realise the grave error they have made and give him a wide berth.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op piece with GH

Cairo, 1124

The same office that had been a hive of activity just one week before was now deserted. Operations had been suspended, tying up loose ends and wrapping up the mission was now nearly complete.

Most of his agents had left the city, only those on more long term assignments or part of the population had stayed. Hopefully the identity and mission of these agents would be protected for years to come. The work he had done here would, or could, if managed successfully allow for decades of ongoing surveillance and information.

Rather than leave himself, one last lead had to be followed up on. Normally he would not have stayed given the danger, but the risk did not outweigh the potential reward. This was literally a key witness as to whether elements of the Orthodox clergy were able to be confirmed as part of the overall mission.

Now, leaning against a wall in a late night market in the centre of Cairo the Saracen looking officer waited. The hair on the back of his neck clearly suggested the enemy was nearby. Never the less he waited, ignoring the tell tale signs of impending danger that would normally have him withdraw as fast as he could.

His eyes continued to scan the crowd. Looking for the person he had organised to meet.

Unfortunately, Apionnas was unaware that the crowd was scanning him too, at least, several members were. As a result of his mind being fixed on completing his task and getting the heck out of Cairo, he missed several key alarms that a more cautious person would easily pick up on.

A man, digging into a large watermelon, between bites staring at his mark, making sure he stayed put. A vendor, looking very out of place for somebody selling his wares in a generally Muslim city, hawking goods in only one direction. A figure, face and body obscured by a dark hooded cloak, merging with a shadow in an alley. A shopper, eternally browsing only a small section of the market, walking back and forth, conveniently in the exact same section that Apionnas was standing.

And so on.

They were, to a man, all more vigilant and watchful than their target, but of course, they were expected to be. Numbers and knowledge of their target were on their side. All they had to do was wait for the Saracen looking man to make his move and then they would be on him.

They had been watching him for months if not years, all collecting information on the man and his contacts, only confirming his identity a short while ago. They had let the man's agents go freely; after all, they were not the big prize. They knew nothing, and even if they did, it would be difficult for men of their standing to get their messages to the proper people.

Now, the true prize awaited and was near. An error was about to be corrected.

Pushing himself of the wall Apionnas recognised his man. A high level administrator in the Grand Vizier's office. Even just half and hour with him would confirm everything he had pieced together so far.

Steadily, he paced up behind his contact. He noted the man's fine robe and the dagger concealed beneath. At last, it was time to catch his prize.

Just then, a hand clamped on his shoulder. The grip was strong and powerful. Apionnas wheeled around, trying to get a good look at the hand's owner and shake him off, but before he had a chance more hands came out of nowhere, holding down his arms, blocking his mouth.

"Well well well, a Greek Senator in Cairo even before the Crusade has hit," a voice said. "I'm sure His Eminence will be very interested to know what you're doing down here, especially considering your... history."

The Byzantine Blab

Your Daily Dose of Gossip in a Lovely, Effeminate Shade of Purple Since 330 AD

August 1125 Edition - Special Magnaura Report

Patriarch Lucks Out in Alexandria Conflict
Was legal loophole a blessing from God... or tricky maneuvering?
https://i113.photobucket.com/albums/...R/lotr_000.jpg

By Woodros Bernsteintinos
CONSTANTINOPLE - Mere hours after the controversial Edict 4.5 was passed in the Magnaura essentially shipping Patriarch of Constantinople Nicholas III to yet-to-be conquered Alexandria, a statement was issued from the Office of the Patriarch proclaiming that, in preparation for the move to Alexandria, an error was discovered the ancient Book of Orthodox Doctrine.

The Book, written in ancient times when the Eastern Roman Empire was flourishing and when Alexandria was under its control, lists the various Patriarchates and the powers allocated to each. Amended to keep up with the current state of the Byzantine Empire, the Patriarch of Constantinople oversees the religion in the greater Greece area, has a say in the legitimacy of royal heirs, and is allowed an official Representative in the Magnaura, among other things. In comparison, the Patriarch of Alexandria oversees Orthodoxy in Africa and the lower Levant and is allowed no greater say in the affairs of Constantinople.

However, as the Office has revealed, the Book contains a glaring misprint, previously undiscovered due to the fact that up until a few hours ago, the Patriarchate of Alexandria had not existed for centuries. In the headings for each section, the words "Constantinople" and "Alexandria" are accidentally switched, meaning that, technically, the allowance of a Representative and a voice in the matters of succession now fall under the Patriarch of "Alexandria"'s duties, and vice versa.

"What this means," said Nicholas III's official Representative, in an exclusive interview with the Blab, "is that Patriarch Nicholas essentially will continue in the same role he has had for the past years, with only his official title changing." The Representative went on to state that, despite the silliness and rather obviousness of the error, it is law, as the Book was legally voted to be "the absolute final say for all matters and disputes pertaining to Orthodoxy, as per the Joint Magnaura/Synod Resolution of 933 or something," said the Representative.

Others, however, aren't so sure that this error always existed. "Come on, just a little bit after the Patriarch loses the fight and gets shipped to Alexandria, it's suddenly revealed that the Patriarch of Alexandria now has all the powers of the Patriarch of Constantinople? Give me a break," said a disgusted Savvas ek Miltou, in a bit of a rush considering his historic tie for the position of Megas. "Clearly, Nicholas and his cronies are manipulating ancient dogma to subvert the rule of law. If that was always in place like they say it is, I'll eat my entire Magnaura bench."

When questioned about how quickly this oversight could be corrected, the Representative was not optimistic. "It's not as simple as crossing out 'Constantinople' and writing 'Alexandria' over it," he said. "Changing the Book is a very ancient procedure and will require, to start, a convening of at least two councils, followed by several votes as well as the Patriarch's approval. It could definitely take some time."

"This just adds to my case," Savvas said upon learning this, before he walked off in a huff.

As the learned portion of Constantinople was thrown into an uproar over hearing the two pieces of news, the few among them who remained calm said that the continued standoff did not bode well for the continued internal peace of the Empire.

"At this point, the Basileus and Patriarch are just trying to one-up each other," said a citizen who preferred not to be named. "Eventually, something's got to give, and I predict it will sooner rather than later."

The Patriarch could not be reached for comment.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Savvas ek Miltou used with Andres's permission.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

A coop story between Ignoramus and Ituralde

Constantinople 1225:

Pavlos Chrysovergos enters the private audience chamber of Ioannis Komnenos and makes a small formal bow. His face, as always set in a grim expression he stares fixedly at a point slightly above the head of the Komnenodoukai.

"Caesar, my lord! Thank you for granting me this audience."

"Ah, Pavlos! Just the man I wanted to see. We have many things to discuss."

Pavlos remains standing in front of the Caesar.

"I'm glad you see it that way my lord! I have served you loyally in the past and followed your command and advice without question. I am grateful for the confidence you have put in me and I will do my best to lead the Komnenodoukai once you follow your father on the throne."

Pavlos hesitates a moment before continuing.

"But I bloody well see the tensions in the Senate and I fear your ascension to Basileus may not go as smooth as your father's. May I ask what your plans are for the future?"

Glancing quickly around the room, Ioannis leans forward before he speaks.

"I must be careful in what I say. While I doubt not that we are secure here, should word get out..."

Straightening himself, Ioannis leans back into his seat and continues.

"The Order have refused reconciliation. I had attempted mediation with Ksanthopoulos, but he was too arrogant or too proud to take it. Adding the disloyalty of the Order and the continuous insults hurled at me by its members, I am not kindly disposed towards them. If they do not change their ways, then I fear we may be plunged into civil war."

The short man nods slowly.

"What if Ksanthopoulos becomes Megas?"

"When I first swore loyalty to you I aksed for an army to conquer Sinop. That was my goal and you honoured my ambition and made me not only ruler of Pontus but of Armenia and Georgia as well. I make no secret of my desire. I despise what happened at Manzikert and that's why I have kept myself from the dealings in the Senate. I tried to bloody escape it, but here I stand at the center of the struggle. I will not abandon the outskirts of Rome to have it overrun by heathens again."

"I am a loyal man and thankful for what you have done, but with Ksanthopolous as Megas and Civil War. The Empire has to persevere!"

Smiling, Ioannis looked keenly at Pavlos.

"Indeed. But like it or not, as the future leader of the Komnenodoukai, you will not be able to avoid politics. I, myself, am not overly fond of politics. My mind is not as sharp as my father's, and I will sorely miss his wisdom. But I will not tolerate disrespect or disloyalty. Such actions caused the catastrophe that followed the murder of Basileus Maurice, and we still haven't fully recovered from that blow over 500 years ago. Surely you must see that if the Order continue to undermine my future authority and that of the Komnenoi family then they must be brought to account. To do otherwise would invite disaster."

"I agree, my lord. With everything you said. The letters of ek Lesvou ask for retaliation and the slander of Laskaris is not much better. Should their lords tolerate their actions further I fear there's no bloody alternative. I am your loyal servant and I will do my best to avoid Civil War. If I fail, I will follow your command, as always!"

Standing up, Ioannis accompanies Pavlos out of the room.

Somewhere between Constantinopol and Sinop 1225

Tender summer breeze from Black Sea touched the cliffs and waved the dry bushes that grew between the large cliffs. The same breeze threw small sparkles from a campfire of Ioannis Kantakouzinos and his small retainer band. As Ioannis turned his eyes to the sky. He could see the thousands and yet thousands lights up in the sky and the large harvest moon, which shone is ghastly light on the black waves of the Black Sea.

Others were soundly asleep as it was his watch. When moving with his close men, Ioannis had always shared the hardships with his men. Eating the same, drinking the same, sleeping like the others did, under the bare sky. These men had became his brothers, while there was not a question who the leader was, Ioannis treated his men as equals and did not allow any luxuries to himself.

There Kantakouzinos sat and watched the fire as it created dancing shadows on his face thinking about the past and the future.

He thought about the past years.The wild dreams of the young man he once was. The despair that almost swallowed him at one point. The same despair in the end had made him want to die and it had been that wish of death that had brought him back to life. To a different life. To a life where serving had replaced ambition, maybe not entirely, but mostly. To a life where he had found out that he was not alone fighting the world, but together with others fighting for a cause. A cause which was defending the Empire, against all outside and also internal enemies.

Ioannis understood that life had not made him the most pleasant of men, nor that his hands were not clean of blood of the innocents. He knew that many of his fellow senators saw him as a madman or a man of villaneous character, but he also knew that if it was needed to be a villain or to drown the enemies of the empire into pools of their own blood. He would not feel bad about it. If the Empire needed terrible men in order for it to prosper, he was ready to sacrifice the last inch of goodness from his character for the Empire.

Ioannis also thought about a woman and not just about any woman. He was thinking about the a princess. Thinking about Anna. He had never stopped loving the princess, who had discarded him from her feelings probably a long time a go. She had married and given birth to many children to another man. But Ioannis did not feel hate towards her or her husband for it. He still held the green cloth, now stained in blood and old dirt, but still Ioannis kept it next to his heart at all times. It was as if the cloth had started to personify everything good that was left in him and also about the longing he felt for a woman that he never could have. Soon enough he should have to marry himself and give a heir to the Kantakouzinos family.

That was one last task he should full fill, before he would even bit more free from his oblications, but in the end Ioannis understood that his oblications would never end, until death would free him from his duties. Once he would have children he would have to protect them as he had to protect the Empire and the Royal family, from anything which would dare to threaten it.

After hours of lonely thoughts, Kantakouzinos woke up from his thoughts and lifted his eyes from the fire. There on the opposite side of the campfire, he regocniced familiar features. Hector his shield bearer and right hand man had already woke up and said to his master.

"Sire. There are still few hours before the sun comes up. Take your rest, it is my turn to guard the camp."

Ioannis smiled to Hector and lied down on his blanket, while the scarred veteran added some more firewood to the fire. Lying there under the stars on the shore of the Black Sea, Comes Kantakouzinos slept, slept and dreamed about the past and about the future.

This is a coop story between myself and YourLordandConqueror and is set after this post in the Magnaura.


Constatinople, 1125

Aleksios held his torch aloft, casting a dim light about the Catacombs. It revealed mouldering bones stacked in alcoves along the narrow passage. Pools of sewage were at his feet, staining the soft leather of his shoes sewn with purple thread. Aleksios coughed, he was too old to be crawling around in the muck like this, but not old enough to join the denizens of this place.

Behind the Basileus, Harald Sigurdsson, his Varangian captain, grunted, "My lord, couldn't this have been left to a messenger or one of your sons? It could be a trap. The person who contacted you is hardly trustworthy."

Aleksios shook his head, "A calculated risk, it seems the Patriarch has more than a few informants, the less people who know about this meeting, the better."

They made their way further into the Catacombs, finally emerging into an open area where several tunnels met. A few faint rays of sunlight poured through a small iron grate twenty feet above them. A rat, startled by their arrival, skittered away into the looming darkness.

The Varangian surveyed the scene, hand on the hilt of his sword, "I do not like this at all, my lord."

The Basileus sighed, "Neither do I, but I hope the enemy of my enemy is a friend."

As if in answer, torch light could be seen approaching down one of the tunnels.

The torchlight grew brighter, and soon from the tunnel opposite of the Basileus a figure appeared dressed in red and white, his face obscured by both a hood and a scarf of red. "I see you summoned up the courage to come see me." The man made no move, and simply stood underneath the archway of the tunnel.

The Basileus replied quietly, "A man who hides his face speaks of courage? No, it is necessity that has brought me here. This meeting was bought in blood, Iakovos was nearly killed bringing me information on the Organization. I've heard bits and pieces from him and others. Rumors that at least some of your fraternity are working for the Patriarch."

Aleksios stepped forward, "I need to know more. I need the blanks filled in. I hope you can help with that."

The man shifts his weight. "Of course I can...I am sorry to hear that you decided to involve my brother in this though. And please, refrain from implicating me in the Organizations actions, a "fraternity" I no longer control of."

"What do you wish to know?"

Aleksios replied, "Ah, you must be Aleksander, a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry your brother was hurt, but I had to cast a wide net to get even a few scraps of information.

"I know your former colleague Symeon now runs the Organization and that he is most likely involved with the Patriarch. It seems they are both plotting to set up a Theocracy in the Empire.

"I also know that the persecution of Christians in Egypt, the event that the Patriarch used to launch the Crusade, is highly suspicious. My agent investigating this has also encountered resistance from the Organization in Egypt; they were trying to curtail his investigation and I have lost contact with him. This leads me to suspect that the Patriarch is using the Organization to cover his tracks, indicating his involvement, somehow, with the pogrom. The Patriarch may be using Vissarionas ek Leskvou, conveniently placed in Cairo before hand, as a plant or a patsy as well. My guess is that the Patriarch plans to use the Crusade to stoke religious fervor in the Empire and pave the way for a power grab. He has already shown he will not accept his demotion."

The Basileus produced a sheath of papers, some stained with blood.

"I also have two out of three reports on the Organization provided by Iakovos. The first is a roster of agents, the third is incomplete but troubling and the second was intercepted and is now missing."

Aleksios handed the papers to Aleksander.

"As I said, I need the blanks filled in. I need evidence to implicate the Patriarch in all this. I need the information from the second report and what is misssing from the third."

Aleksander pulls away his disguise. "Not much point in this is there?" He shakes his black hair loose and looks at the papers handed to him. First he chuckles while looking at the first paper, but frowns when reading the third.

"I see...well, allow me to put into clearer terms for you. The first is incomplete, he lacks information on several agents. The third, it is simple enough, let me fill in the blanks...you have well over 150 Organization members within your military, most in at least mid-range command positions. You also have 5 informants, one in the Hippodrome, one in the Magnaura, one in the Varangian Guard, one among the Senators, and the final is in the Imperial treasury. Another part, the torn part, was to indicate how to contact me...which you did. The last part deals with Symeons attempt to subvert my attempt to form House Korakas, which he managed extremely well. As to the last part, it is merely a suggestion to put one of your own men inside the House to help curtail the Organization from influencing policy in the Empire."

Aleksander stares right back at Aleksios with his piercing blue eyes. "If you want information on the Patriarch though, lets make a deal. My father always told me that if your good at something, never do it for free."

The Basileus returned the younger man's gaze.

"I doubt patriotism would be enough. . .what about vengeance against those who have wronged you? The men who have hunted you. If the Patriarch goes down, so will those who propped him up. Symeon and his cohorts will be the hunted ones then.

"What else could I grant you?"

Aleksander breaks into laughter. "You seem to think I am a rather simple man. I want a future for my brother and his family, I want a secure future for my forming House, and the Caesar off the throne or at least well enough opposed, not "vengeance"...I've had my fill of "vengeance" to last me a life time. Such an offer is quite hollow, both idealistically and realistically."

Aleksios's eyes narrowed, "Your House? I had an inkling Iakovos was trying to form one, but is he just a proxy?"

His voice become quiet, "And why do you wish that my son not inherit the Throne?"

Aleksander chuckled. "Iakovos is to devoted to Makedonios to even think of such things, and he is to attached to Adana to leave the Order. It was I, upon the suggestion of Methodios, that formed House Korakas. I have been responsible for all it's dealings, I am the one who met with the senators as Nomikos to seal what deals were needed. I formed the House, based on the same principles I had hoped for in the Organization."

"As to your son, its really simple, do you want a full-scale rebellion on your hands? Your sons domestic policies are, how should I say it? Antagonistic? Entropic? Not received well? Symeon is currently using your son Ioannis as his platform to recruit Organization members and gather support. If Ioannis assumes power, one wonders what power Symeon will gain as well. Almost anyone else, especially someone like Makedonios or Kalameteros, would simply rip the power and proverbial rug out from under Symeon."

Aleksios's face darkened.

"Ioannis is my son, even if I wanted someone else to inherit, it would be an invitation to Civil War. Primogeniture may not be as strong of a tradition as in the West, but it is recognised."

The Basileus shook his head, "I am amazed you would speak treason to me so openly. However, that is in the future, I believe we could help each other if we focused on the present. Symeon and the Patriarch need to be removed. I need evidence so I can finally rid myself of that troublesome Priest. What can you provide and what is the price?"

Alexander returns the stare. "I stated my price. I do not need the Caesar removed, only checked, if anything I do for you is to have any meaning. I made my House specifically to do so, with the basis of allying to whatever House opposed the Caesar if he grew to willful and alienated the Senators. Right now, that is what he has done, and if they people, the nobles, are given an alternative, such as the Patriarch, when there is no other way, they will take the Patriarch, inviting civil war as Symeon has planned!"

Aleksander breathes deeply to calm himself. "Please, your majesty, I only want whats best for the Empire. If the nobles even have the illusion that the Caesar is in check, they will not side with the Patriarch, and the threat to the Empire will be nipped, at least for now."

Aleksios turned away and took a few paces back towards Harald. Over his shoulder, he spoke in a constricted whisper, "Besides these generalities you mentioned, what do you want specifically? And what can you offer in return?"

Aleksander sighed resignedly. "I can offer information on what the Patriarchs and Symeons plans are, how they intend to implement them, how to take them both with minimal loss, how to round up the very last Organization members...I can even offer the very words each spoke..."

Aleksander pulled out the a tube which contained several scrolls and documents. "I want to insure the survivability of the Empire, I want my brother to have the life I could not share with him or give him, I want Aegyptus, Illyria, and Thrakia for my House...and I want my pain to end."

Aleksios glanced down at the tube and then back up, "I can offer you an Imperial Pardon for whatever you have done, however none of those territories are mine to give, unfortunately. I could promise not to interfere if oaths are broken, but I can't vouch for how the existing Houses will react to such a transformation."

Aleksander's grip loosens as his eyes grow downcast. "What good would a pardon do a man like me? I am hated, scorned, and derided by all Imperial citizens. A pardon would mean nothing...I have lost whatever good I created on promises from a man I trusted. All I want is to create a House that will bring balance to the Empire...and I intended it to be imprinted on their minds when they had to care for both ends of the Empire for their well being...now, it is almost gone...Kosmas is dead, the Patriarch is trying to force Hypatios upon us, we may lose Alexandria to the bloated House of Asteri, the Order scorns us because we want Cairo to cement our domain...I am a broken man Aleksios, and how I have longed for Death, but have refused it because my duty to fix my wrongs has kept me."

Aleksios stepped forward again, "What can I say? I cannot assuage your pain or turn back time. I need your help with the Patriarch, what do you want from me?"

Aleksander seems to loose focus, but then he looks up at Aleksios with a fire in his eyes. "Do something for the children of my brother...keep them safe, give them a future. That's all I ask really...is to repay my brother for what I have put him through." Aleksander hands Aleksios the scroll, but holds onto it tightly. "Do what you will with me...but do everything you can for my brother and his children. He deserves it." Aleksander loosens his grip on the scroll.

Aleksios took the scroll, "I swear upon my soul that I will protect them. Once I am gone, that duty will fall to Apionnas Vringas. If it is possible, I will pass it as well to one of my sons. . ."

A pained look crossed his face.

". . .Though I'm not sure if Ioannis will listen, perhaps Andronikos or Isaakios will. Is that satisfactory?"

Aleksander smiled cheerfully and his voice was humorous. "Please, unless the Caesar changes his attitude, don't ask him...it is acceptable." Aleksander takes a moment to look up through the grating before looking back at Aleksios. "I have spent most of my life in darkness, first as a Turkish slave, then as a rogue. I think it's finally time I stepped back into the light...and hope there is something there for me."

The Basileus nodded a bit grimly, "The past is unchangeable, the future is. . .uncertain, all we can do is to do our best now and hope it is enough. Thank you Aleksander, I hope you can find a measure of Grace."

Aleksander simply nodded. You do not mind if I simply make my presence known among the senators, do you?"

Aleksios replied, "As you wish, but don't get knifed by anyone. I may need your testimony to implicate the Patriarch. You brother is on the mend, you might want to visit him. Good day, Aleksander."

He turned, and flanked by Harald, slowly made his way back to the surface.


Aleksios's return to the Magnaura.

Constantinople, 1125

Synods, it seemed, were almost as long winded and filled with rancor as Senate Sessions. The assembled clergy brought their own views and opinions to it. While the language was more esoteric and ecclesiastical than in the Magnaura, division and strife were no less evident, particularly with the exclusion of Nicholas III from the Synod. It was unorthodox, but the recent Patriarchal "reinterpretation" of Canon Law, throwing into doubt the last 500 years of Church policy, had already roiled the waters.

Candidates for the newly open seat of the Patriarchate of Constantinople were interviewed. Their views on many issues sought by the assembled Priests. The first question asked by the Basileus, however, was always the same:

"What is your opinion on the primacy of the Patriarch of Constantinople within the hierarchy of the Church?"

All in all, the Synod went on for a long time.

Cairo, 1124
The Saracen's Story

A dimly lit room with no direct light saw the battered and bruised figure of Apionnas Vringas strapped into a chair. Stripped bare from the waste up, his hands were tied behind his back, his head hung low, blood dripping from his chin.

"I'll ask you one more time, and if you don't give me an answer I'll be forced to let my friend here work on you some more!!"

The hooded figure standing above Apionnas grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back viciously.

"Why, are, you, here??!!"

Silence.

"Who are you working for and where are your agents!?"

Silence.

Suddenly the man’s accomplice lashed out with a heavy rope tied into a series of large knots. One knot connected directly with and open wound running along Apionnas’s rib cage. The only response was a hiss of pain from between clenched teeth.

A moment passed while all three men waited for the pain to subside.

Finally Apionnas spoke.

"I'm here because I need to be here."

Both torturers blinked through their masks. It was the first time the captive has spoken in days. In a fit of spite at the glib answer the man held his head back and punched Apionnas directly in the eye.

"Well well well. He talks. Finally the Saracen has something to say."

The man holding the corded rope stood back and surveyed the scene.

"What did he just say?" he asked his accomplice.

"I think he said he is here to stir up trouble?"

The small look of confusion by the man holding the rope was replaced quickly by an understanding of what his colleague was trying to do.

"Exactly," he replied, "that's what I heard him say as well. It's seems the Senator here is making a visit to Egypt and especially Cairo to stir up trouble."

The man stood above Apionnas continued the story. "Absolutely, he seems to have admitted that he's here to undermine the Crusade." In feigned horror he added, "What a shocking thing to do. Especially for an Orthodox Christian and member of the Byzantine nobility. I'm sure the Patriarch would be highly unamused."

Apionnas shook his head at the game being played by his two captives.

"You aren't going to succeed, you know."

Cairo, 1124
The Agents' Argument

Confidential report
To: His Eminence Patriarch of Constantinople Nicholas III
From: Orthodox Task Force Brave Eagle, Cairo Branch
Re: Saracen Infiltrator

FOR THE EYES OF THE PATRIARCH ONLY. EXTRA MEASURES HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO ENSURE SECURE DELIVERY.

Your Eminence,

Saracen suspect was positively identified as Magnaura Senator Apionnas Vringas, of the House of None, and MIA for some period of time. Target was marked and observed for some time, with observers making careful note of his activities. Objective: unknown, but he was conversing with several known persons of mistrust.

Eventually Task Force Brave Eagle came to the conclusion that Target was notifying key persons about the incoming Crusade and several potential battle strategies to be used by the Greek generals. Agents made their move and intercepted Target before he made contact with another potential informant. His possessions were seized and Target was taken to interrogation to confirm agents' suspicions.

After several days of questioning the Senator was unresponsive until one night when directly questioned on why he was present in Cairo. Vringas answered using the following exact quote: "I'm here because I need to be here."

Fed up with the lack of answers, the interrogators switched tactics and attempted more persuasive methods to get the Senator to talk.

Agents then voiced the suspicions of Task Force Brave Eagle as to why Vringas was present in Cairo, especially a former Mohammedan to gauge his reaction. Suspect only responded with the phrase: "You aren't going to succeed, you know."

The interrogation continues. The important thing is that the infiltrator has been detained and the Crusade has not been betrayed, at least for now. Additional updates will be provided when additional progress has been made.

Cairo, 1125

The Mansuriyya Commander stared intently at his Amir, waiting for any sign that might indicate the attack should begin. He quickly glanced back at the building that was clearly visible from their concealed vantage point.

While staring at the nondescript structure now ringed by some of his best troops, he thought back to the events over the past months.

He should have met Christian Hardy on numerous occasions, the process of cross checking information as part of the investigation was also a passive alarm of sorts. If either party did not show it meant something was wrong and the standing assumption was the entire relationship was in jeopardy.

That day had come and past, and after informing his Amir of the situation, the majority of the regiment was quietly tasked with find the ex-officer and ensuring his survival. It seemed the Infidel had some influence with the Amir and perhaps others.

At some point while recalling these thoughts of the past few months he quietly heard his Amir give the order to proceed.

The commander raised his arm, the lookout across the street saw the sign. A few moments later the company burst into action.

******************

The sounds of violent struggle and sword play reached down into the basement where Apionnas was bound tightly to a chair.

He waited, tension building in his body as the sounds of fighting drew closer.

Suddenly the door burst open, the familiar hooded form of one of his captors lurched into the room, blood running from a a deep wound to his arm, a wicked looking knife in his other hand. Realising his assailant had nothing but murder on his mind Apionnas began struggling in his chair, his bonds where viciously tight but that did not stop him from frantically trying to put distance between himself and the hooded man at the other end of the room.

The chair tipped, the world tilted, his head cracked against the flag stone a mist of red and purple descended. He realised consciousness was fading and with it any chance of survival.

He felt the cold tip of steel against his throat.

The next feeling would be the warm gush of blood across his chest.

The knife bit deeply, the blood began to pour...darkness.

Somewhere west of Caesaria, 1125

Nikiphoros Manouelitis was had just ordered another pint of beer, when he returned to his table, in an inn by the side of the road. One of those places where people mind their own business, guard their pouches well, and wait anxiously for the next morning when they can leave for wherever they're going.
Nikiphoros was no different from them. He was with a couple of companions, on his way to Caesaria, where Ioannis Kalameteros was conducting a siege of the town. And Nikiphoros was going to join him. His main thoughts ran along the lines of "Finally, a true military posting!", and "Lord, will I be up to the task?". And those thoughts kept running through his head as he got ever closer to Ioannis' army. He wondered what type of duties he'd have. Maybe leader of the cavalry, or of the infantry? But in the end, he told himself, it didn't matter. He was going to serve the Empire, and that was the most important duty of all.
His tankard was brought back by his equerry Pavlos, who had served him loyally since his entrance to the Magnaura. He sat next to Markianos, Nikiphoros' bodyguard. The inn was quiet enough, considering there were about a dozen people in the room. But all kept to themselves.
Which is why most were startled when a man barged in the inn, half-wrecking the door, and although obviously very tired, shouted: "It is ours! It is reconquered!"
The barman, unhappy at the state of affairs, took out his knife and pointed it at the intruder. "Calm down! What happened that's important enough to break down my door?!"
"Caesaria has fallen to the Byzantine General Kalameteros! This region is Roman once more! Spread the word!" He said.
The newsbearer then proceeded to faint of exhaustion. The others turned back to their occupations, while Nikiphoros turned to his companions.
"If this is true, then we can rest here tonight. I had planned to go further on, but it seems it is not necessary. Ioannis will probably not need my company until the army marches again. Come! Let's have a good night's rest, and tomorrow, we can continue."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

OOC: The reconquest of Caesaria hasn't been proclaimed yet I think, but I think the inhabitants of a region would know soon what happened, and since Nikiphoros is in that region...

Cairo, 1125

The blue robed Amir looked down at the figure on the floor.

He was a mess to say the least. Two soliders were binding his wounds while a doctor supervised their work.

"Will he live?" The Amir's question was without emotion.

The doctor glanced up. "Yes, he has a strong will and does not want to pass from this world just yet."

The Amir grunted a response.

The torn figure below began whispering something over and over again. He could just hear the words.

"shukran....shukran...shukran"

Nodding the Amir said quietly to no one; "Aafwaan, my boy. Aafwaan."