Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

**econ21** · 01-05-2008, 03:10

Nuremburg, 1346

“What is he like?” inquired the Empress Dowager Linyeve.

Sir Charles de Villiers thought for a moment: “His family are minor nobles from Luxemburg, they have conducted much trade with England. While the chaos in Swabia has been ruinous for the Reich, it has provided opportunities for those who know how to seize them. Armies have many needs and the disruption of regular trade routes provides rich profits for those who can work with unscrupulous generals.”

“Yes, yes - he is rich, I get it. But damn it, Charles, do you think that is all I care about?” reprimanded Linyeve.

Sir Charles raised a sceptical eyebrow and Linyeve scowled at him, although half in jest.

“What is the boy like?” Linyeve insisted.

“Not much to look at, but shows great promise in martial pursuits. He is brave and already has scars to show his martial practice. Involvement in his family’s affairs has given him some skill in organisation. He appears religious and earnest.”

“It sounds as if he would be fine as a soldier, but as a husband?”

“You are asking a soldier, not a woman, your Highness.”

“Bah. Very well - I will meet the boy. And what of you, Sir Charles? What will you do now?”

“My services are no longer required in the Reich, your Highness. I will return to serve our native England - perhaps in the Levant, to liaise between her new Crusader provinces and your Kingdom of Outremer.”

Linyeve smiled: “A most excellent idea, Sir Charles, I wish you well. For my part, Germany is my country now and I will not leave her although I fear I too am surplus to requirements. However, I do still have a young family to raise.”

The Empress Dowager sighed: “Speaking of which, I must break the news to Eue. I thank you for bringing this young man to my attention, Sir Charles, and we will speak again before we depart. But now you must wish me luck.”

*****

“No, I won’t do it!” Eue shouted at her mother. “The boy is a parvenu from a family of war profiteers! An upstart creep, using us to crawl up the greasy pole!”

“And we are using him. Your father had many virtues, but being good with money was not one of them. He has left us virtually penniless and while the Reich is fighting for survival, it has no money to lavish on orphaned royalty. Besides, after Theodora’s stunt, it will be a while before foreign Empress Dowagers become popular causes in the Reich!”

“You want me to marry someone just for their money?” Eue demanded.

“Not just for his money. The boy has great promise - Sir Charles has assured me…”

“Sir Charles!?! Well, why doesn’t Sir Charles damn well marry him then!” Eue stormed.

“Listen, Eue - you must understand your situation. You have gone from being the most sort after woman in the Reich to being a near outcast. The young men who lined up to court you - that Hapsburg boy, Karl Zirn’s eldest - will not look at you now. You must adjust to your new situation in life. It is a man’s world, my dear, and you must find the most promising man to attach yourself too. And in these violent times, it is martial men who offer the most chance of advancement.”

“And boys from filthy rich families?”

“Filthy rich helps.”

**Northnovas** · 01-06-2008, 03:10

Ragusa 1346

Johann had found comfortable lodgings a few miles from the Citadel. There was very little movement on the road with the sickness spreading across all of Europe. He was fortunate to get this place whose owner’s were weary of travelers. However, once the young man’s family name was recognize he was given a place to stay.

“Bloody hell” Johann though to himself holding the last message from the Duke.

He had left Vienna to take command of the 1st AHA in Ragusa under the Duke’s orders but it has been one major disappointment. He left with high hopes that he was to get away from his father’s shadow and prove his worth. Unfortunately his father’s death this past year did not leave the two on best of terms. Rather then take command of the 2nd AHA and stay in Vienna he returned to Ragusa as originally ordered. This wandering the countryside with no command was making Joahnn feel very unappreciated.

“Another damn message, what is it this time head for Timbuktu?” Johann thought to himself. He had been alone a lot quite lately. “It is damn maddening back and forth without an Army and because of this sickness I have not even seen Uncle Arnold. He is bloody quarantined.” His only contact with the Duke had been by correspondence and healthy messengers. Only miles apart and they have had no met each other.

Johann opened the seal message

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Johann stared at the message and then thought. He crumbled the paper and threw them into the fireplace. “Sickness, mmph,” thinking, “The Hungarians were father’s enemies not mine. I will make my own. I am heading into Ragusa to command an army... and find out what is going on with Uncle.”

His decision had been made he was continuing on his original orders. Sickness or Venetians he was heading for the Citadel.

**GeneralHankerchief** · 01-09-2008, 02:30

Rosenheim, 1350

The journey from Prague to Italy had been a long one for Herrmann Steffen. Having come of age in Nuremburg in 1344, he rushed to the Austrian city to assist in its relief from the Poles. Everything went fine, Edmund Becker had not recommended knighthood, and ever since then he had been cut off from the events that concerned him most; on the long road to Italy.

In all fairness, he probably would have been there by now had it not been for the Plague. The dreaded sickness - which was labelled by some as the Black Death, its casualty count approaching the Byzantine genocide in Italy and the War of Reformation deaths - had knocked out every major center in which Herrmann wanted to resupply. As a result, his party, fueled by Herrmann's paranoia, had resulted to living off the land, which had slowed progress down significantly.

The hamlet of Rosenheim was, in 1300, a thriving market town; a budding center of commerce, situated roughly halfway between Nuremburg and Innsbruck. That was before the bad times. Years of war had whittled down the population, and the Byzantine takeover of the majority of Italy had severely hampered trade. Little by little Rosenheim was abandoned as its residents moved farther into the heart of the Reich or the nearby cities for protection. By the time the Black Death hit, it was a near-ghost town.

Herrmann and his party viewed the town from a nearby hill, surveying for signs of possible activity or sickness. All of them were filthy beyond belief after foraging for food and tromping through the wilderness. One of them still had a dribble of juice, no doubt from undercooked meat, rolling down his chin.

"Okay," he said, "Who do you want to send, Herrmann?" It had been Herrmann's policy to send only one of his retinue down at a time into towns in case of infection.

"Town looks pretty empty to me. Nobody left for the plague to kill. I'll go down myself; I need to ask questions."

A pause. It was highly unlikely that Herrmann's fear of getting sick would take such a 180.

"...but, you're all coming with me. Surround me, facing outward. Nobody is going to touch or breathe on me, I can guarantee that."

With knowing smiles, Herrmann's retinue, accompanied by their leader, packed their things and made their way down into Rosenheim. Walking down the main street, they surveyed their surroundings. The stench of death still lingered in the air, although it was only faint. More overpowering was the feeling of general emptiness. The buildings lining this street and others were meant to be filled.

They weren't.

One man approached the circle of soldiers making their way down the street; an old priest, still clean-shaven on the face but long and wild on the scalp. He stared at them, mumbling, and finally approached them. The wall around Herrmann tightened.

"What brings you lads to Rosenheim? Is this the newest, most powerful army the Kaiser sends to deliver Italy from the Byzantines? Oh, truly, better times have befallen us."

"Relax, old man," Herrmann said from behind the wall. "I am Herrmann Steffen, first of four sons of Duke Lothar Steffen of Bavaria. The young generation is alive and well and ready to continue the fight. Our armies are still large and powerful. My men and I have been called down to Italy to provide additional tactical as well as cavalry support to Count Fredericus Erlach. We require provisions for the journey as towns along the way have been few."

"Provisions?" The old priest laughed. "Hah! You're many years late, lad. Sure, we had lots of provisions - at the turn of the century. Times have gotten worse since then, however."

"As they have for everybody. The Reich still survives."

"The Reich, maybe, but not this town."

"You still live. Tell me, is there anyone who can aid us? Surely those remaining who are not sick would jump at the chance to do business with travelers, as this town used to."

"Well..." The priest scratched his unkempt mane, trying to remember. "The leading trader, Gruber, got old and died a few years ago. He had five sons, but four of them went off to war and couldn't continue the family business. Their youngest, not yet of military age, got sick and passed away. The second leading trader, Demetrius, was robbed and beaten to death during the Cataclysm by a few deserted soldiers mistaking him for a Greek by his name. He had no heirs. The third leading trader simply lost his business and died penniless.

"And then we go to the minor moneymakers of Rosenheim. Two young gentlemen, appropriately named Hans and Dietrich, took their religious differences to the extreme and slaughtered each other. Both had pregnant wives and young sons. Both families starved to death the following winter, unable to provide for themselves. Our butcher, Ruprecht, moved away to Franconia. His brother stayed, trying to maintain the family business for a while. Then of course, he got sick and died.

"We lost our blacksmith to the Plague. Our main merchants, our government officials, our clergy, minus me. Anyone remotely connected with business is either gone or dead. Had you come earlier, I would have been able to direct you to our last remaining farmer in the area, one Jens Heinztelman. He had a nice little crop going in the area, was able to feed himself, his wife, his four kids, and still have some left over to sell to us. Last month he got sick, just him. In a fever-induced madness the second night of his illness, Jens Heintzelmen picked up a hatchet and killed everyone else in the house, screaming loud enough for us in town to hear. By the time I got to his place he was covered in blood, muttering something about demons. Right in front of me he picks up his bloody hatchet and implants it in his neck. Now, of course, his farm is ruined, already being reclaimed by nature.

"Young Steffen, if I could be of any help to you I honestly would. But I've watched the town die around me. There aren't very many of us left, and we pretty much keep to ourselves for fear of getting sick. We fend for ourselves, provide what we can. But can we give enough food for a dozen young men on their way to Italy? No sir, we cannot."

A long, terrible silence followed the close of the priest's speech, one that lasted for over two minutes. Herrmann's protective circle broke apart, each man taking a few steps, surveying the destruction that the priest had just described, now being able to visualize the horrors that must have taken place. Herrmann just stared, taking everything in.

"How far to the nearest town?" he finally asked.

"About fifteen miles to the south," the priest said.

"Get back to your horses." Herrmann turned to his men. "We move out immediately."

Several minutes later they were ready, bidding goodbye to the priest and departing the town of Rosenheim, heading south, wondering if the town fifteen miles away had a similar story to tell, wondering if they had fared any better.

**AussieGiant** · 01-10-2008, 16:17

Outside Ragusa 1350

Arnold sat at the Chancellors desk oblivious to the passing of time. The intensity written across his face meant the servants simply left food and drink at a nearby table rather than interrupt their master.

The massive field tent was strewn with maps, recruiting orders and the continued reports of the Black Death and its spread across the known world.

Looking up from his paper's the Duke gazed at the unanswered orders sent to Erlach and von Hapsburg lying on a nearby table.

Snorting with disgust he walked over to the two parchments, picked them up with his Obsidian encased hand, then proceeded to throw them into the blazing hearth which dominated one wall of the Chancellors field office.

Taking his seat again he leaned back in his chair while sipping a goblet of red wine. Some moments past and again the Duke shook his head at some other issue that had come across his mind. This problem had also not gone well over the last few years.

##############################

In the adjacent room the grave yard shift at three o'clock in the morning comprised of just three staff, the Chancellor's private secretary, the head servant and a junior servant.

The junior servant, orderd to constantly peer through a small slit to prempt any of the Chancellors wishes, looked on with growing alarm as the slow groaning of metal on metal reached the ears of his colleagues behind him.

"Is he crushing another goblet? Things must not be going so well;" said the head servant from the back of the room.

"Bloody hell sir, I thought we swapped out the delicate stuff last month;" said the junior servant still looking on with growing alarm through the slit.

The Chancellors private secretary glanced up from his book and look on with some concern at the two servants developing discussion.

"We did!! Is he's crushing one of those new steel goblets we purchased from Venice??!!" the head servant voice was clearly full of disbelief.

Slapping his book shut the private secretary stood up in some alarm.

"Well from here it sure looks like it!!" The whisper from the junior servant peering through the slit was now nearly as loud as a normal speaking voice.

"Will you two stop blathering on and get the Priest!! Maybe the Chancellor is getting better!!?"

The private secretary wondered what a healthy Chancellor would be like. A sick and plagued one was already horrifying enough!!

**AussieGiant** · 01-12-2008, 13:49

Above Ragusa 1350

The Chancellors priest sat on his horse looking through an eye glass at the carnage below.

Next to him was Hermann the Corrupt, and even though his title was the most inexplicable to ever grace a member of the Preferati, that in fact was what he was, one of the two current Preferati Cardinal's on earth.

Here at the behest of the Chancellor, one of the Pope's most favoured representatives looked on at the phenomenon Duke Arnold's priest had reported some time ago.

The outnumbered army of the Chancellor was destroying a force twice it's size with some ease. It was certainly chaotic but there was a method to its madness. What was even more startling to the two onlooking clergymen was that the garrison of Ragusa had not even made it to the fight before it was all over.

The reason for this...The Chancellor.

Where ever he rode the Venetian's ran screaming like banshee's who had seen the devil. If one flank was being threatened the Duke would wheel, realign his body guard and charge into the mass of men like the devil incarnate.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Blood, flying apendiges and death would ensue and within minutes the screams of men that had seen walking death would be heard. In fact after a point in the battle the Chancellor's body guard rarely had to trade blows with the enemy. The Venetian's would simply run at the first sight of the Chancellor's approaching regiment and the man they all feared riding at it's head.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

“I see what you mean Priest.” The deep voice of the Preferati Cardinal made the Chancellor's priest look up from the gore below.

“Your report also mentioned unnatural physical acts...I don't see any. What has this got to do with his retinue?”

“Well your grace, I'm the only member of the Chancellor's seven strong retinue that I or anyone else for that matter have seen in the last few months...you remember what I said in the report?” The Priest tailed off not wanting to actually speak the words he had written down as a theoretical answer to the issue.

“Yes, yes, I remember your words, that is what worried the Pope so much, and that is why he decided to agree to your masters request and have me meet with Arnold regularly.”

There was a pause as the Chancellor's priest gazed at the Cardinal looking on the battle through his eye glass.

“Ah ha...I see what you mean.”

The priest look back through his eye glass just fast enough to see the Chancellor physically punch his obsidian plate covered hand through a man's shield, grab him by the top of his breast plate, pick him up bodily and impale him on a nearby lance that was broken and protruding from the ground.

“Exactly your grace, that, the aura he projects and the occasional glow from his eye's are the reasons I wrote what I did in the report to you.” The priest looked back at the Preferati Cardinal who had never ceased peering through his eye glass through the entire conversation.

Snapping the eye glass shut in one swift motion the Cardinal finally looked at the Priest and smiled.

“Well then, that's that, he's finished them off. Shall we go down there and meet this master of yours? Lets see if he's covered in blood and gore and sounds like the anti-Christ!!??”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The priest blanched white at the Cardinal's tone and attitude. When he meets the man in person he was sure the cardinal would leave for Jerusalem with a far more concerned look on his face.

**OverKnight** · 01-13-2008, 08:47

Adana, 1350

Adana was in the grip of the Black Death. The six year Greek siege had worsened the outbreak, confined quarters and privation had aided the spread of the disease. The Great Keep in the Citadel was now used as a quarantine for the sick and dying, with the troops stationed on the two outermost rings of the Citadel. Despite two sallies which had bloodied them, the Greeks had kept to their siege, they seemed to be in a race with the plague to see who could take Adana first. Or perhaps they were content to sit outside the walls and let pestilence do their work for them.

Matthias had steered clear of the Keep. Barring quarantine and prayer, there was little he could do for the afflicted, the Greeks, though, were another matter. He had spent his time since the last sally rallying the troops and working on a defense in case the Byzantines summoned up enough courage to attack. Grim tidings, however, had brought him from his new quarters at the Gate House of the second ring to the Keep. Despite the pleas of bodyguard, he had entered.

He found her among the dying in the Dining Hall. Elsebeth was lying on a straw pallet. A simple cotton shift had replaced her nun's habit. Matthias could see the black splotches dotting her skin, prevalent around the neck, that gave the disease its name. Her clothing hid the swollen buboes that would have surely formed at armpit and groin. She breathed shallowly, lost in a fever, a sheen of sweat on her forehead and a trickle of bloody sputum ran down her chin from the left side of her mouth.

With a groan he sank down beside her. Tremulously he reached out and took her hand, "Elsebeth? I'm so sorry, I just heard."

She opened her eyes, and smiled faintly.

"Pardon me Viceroy, if I do not stand in your presence. I find myself indisposed."

A coughing fit took her and Matthias could not help but recoil as more bloody sputum sprung from her mouth. After it had passed, he dapped at her face with a cloth and gave her some water, cradling her head so that she could drink. Elsebeth gasped in pain as she was moved.

"No apology needed," he belatedly replied, "for anything."

Elsebeth looked up, her eyes clearer, "You should not be here. That is how I was afflicted, tending to the sick."

Matthias silently shook his head, unable to speak. After a moment, his words came roughly, "It is in God's hands. Though. . .His Will has become difficult to discern lately. I had to come when I heard, the last time we spoke, I was harsh, I would not have our last. . ."

He paused.

"Last words?", Elsebeth interjected, her voice weak, "I am dying Matthias, that is evident. You need not dance around it."

He exhaled painfully, a mix of laughter and despair, "Of course. I would not have our last words be in anger. Whatever you told Theodora, you had no idea what it would lead to. I should have realized this. We have all done regretful things in the upheaval around unification. The past is the past."

Elsebeth visibly relaxed, though pain remained in her eyes. Her breathing became shallower.

"I'm glad. . .a request. . .bury me with Otto."

Matthias smiled sadly, "Of course. . .with Otto."

He paused again and then spoke quietly, "You're the only women I ever loved. A bit unfair to say this now, I know, but there it is. I hope that means something to you."

Elsebeth nodded weakly. Another coughing fit took her, she struggled to breath through the agony.

Matthias brought a vial from his belt.

"This will help, Laudanum. It will ease your path."

Gently he helped her drink from vial. Waiting, he held Elsebeth's hand as she began to fade.

"I'm here. I'll be here until the end."

Matthias prayed as the last child of Kaiser Heinrich passed on.

Adalric, the only member of the bodyguard who had dared to enter the Keep, found Matthias hunched over her body.

"My lord, the Greeks are mustering to attack! You are needed at the walls!"

The Viceroy of Outremer raised his head, blackness writ across his features. Standing he grasped the hilt of Iron Faith.

"We shall see if God still favors us. Deploy the men as planned, we have Greeks to kill."

With a sigh, Matthias turned and marched out of the Keep to face the attackers.

**Northnovas** · 01-13-2008, 17:54

Zagreb Region 1352

The morning sun shone brightly on his face and he could feel the dew on the grass around him. He slowly pulled himself out from his slumber when he saw a figure of a man crouched in front of him. Startled he spun around and jumped to his feet reaching for his dagger it was not there. Damn it! He thought to himself has he saw the dagger lying on the ground partially covered by his blankets. Looking at the figure he could see he was uniformed and a member of the Reich.

“My lord, Captain Jacob with your orders.” The Captain held out a scrolled document and bowed before Johann. Looking beyond the Captain down the hill was an entourage of Knights on horsed waiting.

“What orders!? From who and what for…” Has he grabbed the document he saw the Chancellor’s Seal. Looking back at the Captain, “How did you find me? There hasn’t been anyone traveling these roads. I have resorted to sleeping out in the country to avoid the sickness and besides its almost impossible now to even find lodgings.”

The Captain smiled “The Reich has her agents still at work it took some time and Duke Arnold held no expense it was a priority. There wasn’t an agent who was not going to report back to the Duke that you could not be found.” The Captain thought it was not much of a noble to be found in this condition but like his unit the young noble was healthy and that was a good thing.

Johann,

I am most annoyed at your disappearance but have trusted it kept you healthy? We are in dire straits, the Hungarians have launched an offensive that has Vienna besieged and even Zagreb in danger.
I am ordering you to Vienna with the plague and all. It has been total incompetence of command with the city defenses. I want that siege broken and safety returned to the city.
Succeed and I will grant you your late father’s lands and title. You will be officially the Count of Zagreb. You will also have to go and relieve that city too!
I am counting on you make haste to Vienna!

Chancellor Arnold Duke of Austria