Florence, 1100

The sound of trumpets. The cheering crowd. The fine food, exquisite sleeping arrangements, and dedicated staff. One got used to these things as Holy Roman Emperor.

Then why was this job so damned hard?

Kaiser Heinrich, upon his return to the city, retired to his chamber for the night, asked himself that question. The midterm session of the Diet that had just ended was a particularly... annoying one.

"Wise Kaiser, noble Kaiser they all say publicly. And then they proceed to quickly ignore my proposals and go the other way, unanimously. They all want to benefit their House and their House only, and they all want to make their city the shiniest and most glorious in the entire Reich, never mind that it will make me bankrupt."

One could say that the Kaiser was in a bad mood.

"I have to deal with that stupid Cardinal who can't even identify people's gender. And of course he cares little for the Empire, only Rome. And my son, bah! Henry is weak. He was too young to remember. An entire generation, starting with him, is being raised to accept the fact that the Papacy is infalliable. This is unacceptable. He wants me to abdicate. I can see it. He figures that if a pro-Rome ruler is installed then things will be perfect.

"This cannot happen. We must not forget. This Reich has been wronged. It took me some time to realize that but we have been wronged. And if we do not act quickly people will never remember the power we once held."

He gazed out his window to the south. The prominent feature in the city was a small church, rising above the mostly small buildings but not obstructing his view. Past the church, symbol of much were the city gates. Past the gates were the fields of the Florence region, where many farmers now toiled to bring wealth to the Reich. And beyond those fields, to the south, were the fields of Rome.

Many years ago, over a thousand, those fields had been the site of a bloody, but decisive conflict for Rome itself. In earlier, happier times, Heinrich had paid visits to those fields. Certainly, the grounds were contested by heretics who believed in the pagan practice of polytheism, but when that many people died in one concentrated spot, the ground was hallowed no matter who fought there.

"I hereby vow, at this moment, that before I die Rome will be under the benevolent arm of the Empire once again. And may this battle be less bloody than the last."