Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[GeneralHankerchief]

Rome, 1168
The Imperial Palace

Pope Andreas is dead.

Kaiser Heinrich is dying.

Those two pieces of news had spread through the streets of Rome until nothing else was deemed worthy of discussing. These two events were quite related, which prompted even more chatter than normal. The Kaiser had sallied out of Rome some weeks ago, driving back the besieging army and killing the Pope in the process. There were even rumors that he was surrounded by ten or so Papal horsemen and had slain them all personally.

Whatever had happened in that battle, Heinrich had returned from the fields north of the city a changed man. He had sported nasty wounds all throughout his person; it's a miracle he wasn't killed. His complexion had turned much paler as well, and that combined with his white hair made him look something of a ghost.

The few times that Heinrich had been seen in public and the Diet since the last battle, he relied on an ornate walker to help him get around. Even then, it took him much longer to do things. His voice, before deep and rich with power and authority, had become wheezy and weak. His mental state was still there, struggling to complete his normal routine despite the injuries, but it was clear that the Kaiser was aware that his time was finally nearing, and if one looked closely, despair could be seen in Heinrich's eyes.

Finally, about a week ago, the Kaiser had stopped being seen in public. He was now spending all of his time in the comforts of his bed, aided by a few dedicated doctors that could really only watch as his condition deteriorated. Authority was delegated to his staff and advisors, but Heinrich still kept a close watch on the goings-on of his men.

Two days ago, the various members of the College of Cardinals had shuffled into the city to once again elect a new Pope. Some, upon hearing about the Kaiser's condition, had grinned.

"So, divine retribution strikes at last," said Froderigus of the Papal States to his entourage, commenting on Heinrich's state.

Finally, on the day of the Papal Election, Heinrich awoke with a high fever. He knew that his time had come.

Ringing the bell which had been provided should he need anything, the Kaiser addressed the first servant that had come rushing in.

"Send me *cough* my wife and Otterbach. The Anointing of the Sick must be administered."

Several minutes later, Betrada, Heinrich's wife arrived into the room, and was closely followed by Cardinal Charles Otterbach, who would soon stand for Pope.

So, these are the only two people that stand by and aid me as my time ends. No children or grandchildren. They all are off, estranged from me or too young to care. No friends or allied Electors, like Ludwig or Sigismund. They are all dead, and now I join them.

"Otterbach," he said, giving a smile to his wife, "Hold off on the Undulation for a little while. I need you to write."

"Mein Kaiser," said the female Cardinal, the same Cardinal whom a different Maximillian Mandorf had taken advantage of so many years ago, a bit shocked, "Your time is short and these matters are of grave importance. I must insist that the Undulation is performed poste-haste."

"Re*cough*lax, Otterbach, I've put off death for many years now; I can put it off for a few more minutes. As the man who appointed you as priest, I order you to write."

Reluctantly, Cardinal Otterbach picked up paper and quill, and began to transcribe what Heinrich dictated to her.

"Good Electors,

It is my regret that I leave you now after so much time on Earth. I depart with mixed emotions but no regrets. I only wish that more could have been done. Unfortunately, that task is now up to you and know that I will be with you always in seeing it done.

Regretfully, my condition prevents me from addressing certain Electors in person so I will now do so here. To the certain few that would have none of it, please, at least hear what this dying Kaiser has to say as a last request.

To Dietrich von Saxony: I apologize for never bothering to see your daughter and my grandchild that you informed me of many years ago. If you ever return from your crusade, please teach her who I was and what I stood for.

To Otto von Kassel: You disappoint me. No matter what you stood for, I wanted a friend and an ally. You were both, for a short period of time. However, when it became clear that I was on my way out in the world you threw our bond aside, forgetting all that I had done for you. While I can do nothing about you now, you will surely remember this betrayal sometime into the future.

To Leopold: May you continue to bring much glory to Austria and the Reich as Chancellor. With Hungary, Poland, and Venice still at war with us much hard times will befall your House. Know that you have my blessing in all of my endeavours.

To Prinz Henry: The crown is finally yours, my son. In due time you will recognize all of the finer points of being Kaiser, as well as appreciate your father more for what he has done. May your reign be long and prosperous, and may you continue to expand the Reich's glory.

To all of you, I realize that I leave you with enemies on all sides and within. The times ahead will be trying, but eventually we shall prevail. I leave you one last piece of advice, which you may heed if you like: Never stop fighting. France will fall, the enemies of the East be tamed, England repulsed. Even the Papacy, which some of you label as my greatest failure, will soon fall back into our hands. The fighting and sacrifices of our generations will bring peace and prosperity for the next thousand years.

Kaiser Heinrich"

Finally, once the Kaiser had finished, he allowed last rites to be performed. After Otterbach had completed them, Heinrich, breathing his last breaths, pulled the Cardinal in close.

"You must... be elected..." he said, struggling, "This must... end... For all of us... get elected... reconcile us... give the Prinz... room to move..."

Otterbach, tears in her eyes, nodded.

"Never... stop... fighting..."

The Kaiser slumped back into his bed, hand grasping his wife's. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before departing, leaving the Reich behind forever.



Kaiser Heinrich, before his death. Word spread quickly through the city about the Emperor's passing, possibly impacting the College of Cardinals' decision. Three hours later, in the Papal Election, the Cardinals elected Domingo the Warmonger of Spain to the Seat. The Reich continues to be excommunicated.

[econ21]

Croatia, 1170

Prince Henry walked through the camp at night. The dark air was chill, but the many fires provided convenient refuges of warmth and light during his wanderings.

The crusade was getting off to a slow start. The rearguard, which Duke Otto and Henry commanded, was still near Zagreb - waiting for the arrival of Henry’s son, Hans. Aside from one of the priests going wild and turning heretic, there had been little incident or excitement. It was as if the nearby hostile Venetian and Hungarian armies respected the crusaders zeal. Or more likely, thought Henry cynically, they were only too happy to see the better part of Germany’s armies march away as they, the invaders, marched in.

For if the crusade’s progress had been slow and calm, all hell had broken lose back home. Enemies without count, settlements besieged. And yet the Chancellor and the Emperor seemed to be holding up well enough so far. Henry smiled and shook his head as he recalled the account of his father’s most recent battle: another Pope slain; was there no stopping the man?

Henry looked up and saw a lone figure watching him by a tent. The figure was unarmed and apparently without armour, but was staring boldly at the Prince. Henry was disconcerted by this lack of etiquette - no man was supposed to meet the gaze of the Prince without bowing. Henry raised his shoulders, puffed out his chest and strode towards the figure.

“You there, who are you, Sir?” Henry demanded.

Only then did the lone figure bow, an extravagant low bow, with a flourish of his black cape:

“Dusan Kolar, your Highness. It is an honour to meet you.”

Etiquette re-established, Henry visibly deflated and had to struggle to find something meaningful to say:

“Ahh, good, a local I take it? What brings you here? Come to join the crusade, what? You don’t look much like a soldier or a camp follower. Not one of those monks or fanatics are you?”

The man smiled knowingly:

“The world is too full of monks and fanatics, is it not?”

Henry smiled back, conspiratorially. A year or two, he might have taken umbridge at such a lack of piety. He had prayed by the body of the murdered Pope Gregory, sought to nurture his own faith - to turn from an opportunistic supporter of peace with the Papacy to a position of principled devout support. He had sought to follow Maximillan Mandorf, in the Bavarian’s spiritual conversion. But what had it got him? Trial by inquisition, within months of arranging the burial of Gregory. Even his father Heinrich’s disposal of the latest Pope had stirred little inside Henry. All this, he thought, but dared not speak.

The man was watching Henry intently, as if understanding and then looked up at the stars.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Sire. I respect the spirituality of the monks and the fanatics. But their understanding is so … limited. They speak of heaven and foreswear worldly goods, but their vision is blinkered and their preoccupations are often with things of this earth. A crown, a mitre, an Empire, a Holy City… They do not take the time to stop and look up, to see how small they and their concerns are.”

Henry stared at the man. What the hell was the fellow doing, blathering on like this to him, the Prince? As if I don’t have better things to do! But the man continued, oblivious to the incredulity on Henry’s face:

“But you, your Highness, you are finally free, are you not?”

Free? What on God’s earth was this nutter talking about? Henry stared harshly at the man, who merely registered the Prince’s look and gave another extravagant bow:

“I see I have taken up too much of your time. Until we meet again, your Highness.”

Henry watched the man leave and then heard a commotion in the camp. Guards were rushing around until they spotted the Prince. A Bavarian knight ran forward to Henry and fell onto one knee, whispering in mournful reverence and profound awe:

“Grave news, your Highness: your father has passed away. The Emperor is dead, long live the Emperor!”

Henry felt as if he had been punched in the stomach and took a deep breath. Flustered, he looked around. The camp was awake and humming with excitement. Already he could see Duke Otto rushing to approach him. Henry tried to compose himself, a million things crowding in his mind at once. And yet one thing stood out above the rest: you are finally free, are you not?. Henry turned to the Bavarian knight:

“I have a special duty for you: there was a man here, just now. Dusan… Kolar, I think his name was. Find him and bring him to me. However, hard it is - just do it.”

[OverKnight]

Otto stared into the flames of a camp fire. The news of Kaiser Heinrich's death had reached the army earlier that day, it had cast a pall over the camp as night had fallen and it was eerily quiet. Otto could hear Elsebeth weeping from his tent, she was inconsolable and he had left her to her women after a few hours. He needed time for himself, to think, to process the news that had shaken him. So now he was seated in front of a fire, drinking from a flask of wine and going over the dire messages brought that day.

The Kaiser is dead, the new Pope is not our choice and refuses to negotiate with us, a huge Hungarian army is rampaging through northern Italy, Metz has rebelled to the French and Dijon, Venice, Vienna and Hamburg are besieged. Of course, on the positive side, the Kaiser killed another Pope before he shuffled off the mortal coil.

"Did he put in a good word for you, my lord?", asked Otto to the sky.

Taking a swig from the wine, Otto raised the flask, "A toast to the Kaiser, Heinrich Pope-Bane, a man of insurmountable will and equal stubbornness. The man who made me everything, everything, I am today."

Otto shook his head to clear the cobwebs. A disappointment, Otto thought, is what he called me on his death bed. I guess that means I am part of the family, if he's humiliating me publicly. "Friend and an ally"? Hah! If by friend he means servant, and by ally he means lickspittle, than yes that is what the Kaiser wanted. I fulfilled my end of the bargain, he got Rome and Gregory. That was the deal. I served him better than anyone else. Just because I wouldn't follow him into Hell itself by slaughtering the College of Cardinals doesn't mean I'm disloyal.

Otto thought back to the last Diet in Rome, when the Kaiser's armed guards had woken him up in the middle of the night to deliver an ultimatum. Yes, that is how one treats an ally and a son-in-law. If he knew me any better, He would have known that was the worst approach he could have taken. Perhaps if the Kaiser's allies hadn't dropped like flies, he would have had more.

Otto sighed, despite the Kaiser's failings, the Reich could use a man of his singular will at this point. There were enemies on all sides. Henry was a good man but Otto was worried about his approach to the Swabian succession. Von Salva as Prinz, Hummell as Duke and his own son to accompany him on Crusade. I do not doubt Henry's motives, but this could cause conflict among the Swabians. They might be at each other's throats while the French are at their doorstep.

Thinking of the grim situation at home, Otto wished he could return to help set things right. But I have taken the Cross, that is my duty now. I have helped bring this disaster on the Reich, and I must take Jerusalem to balance the scales.

Otto stood up and turned to face his tent. I must put my feelings aside. Elsebeth sees her father through a daughter's eyes and I will not disappoint her.

Shoulders slumped, and with a bit of a stagger, he walked into the tent to try to comfort his wife.

[Warluster]

In DIjon, 1168 AD.

boom
The ground shook in the Castle of Dijon, one of the servants staggered towards the New Prinz's Room,
boom
ANother rock hit the Castle, and screamign started outside. The servant toppled over but got up and knocked on the Prinz's door. It opened, but no one was seen. the Prinz was standing by one of the only windows in his chambers. The servant spoke up,
'is there anything you need sir?' he asked, the Prinz muttered something.
boom
The servant staggered but remained upright.
'Sir?'
'Give... Bring...bring me Heidindrudis, it is not safe outside' said Jobst, the servant scurried off, and left the prinz standing there in a breakign Castle.
THis is where it starts. The next stage of our great Reich's Historythought Jobst

boom
Heidindrudis, Jobst's wife came striding in, a smiled at Jobst,
'I was called, what is wrong?' she asked, Jobst made a motion which meant the servants were to leave, then bowed his head
'The French are...'
'yes?'
'so much stronger' finished Jobst, Heidindrudis storked his arm,
'We can fight back, remember what happened at AUstria, they beat them back time and time again' said Heidindrudis,
'But I am no great general, I do not think I am even great enough for this position of Prinz! Compared to the other great generals!' said The Prinz,
'Their time is over, it is the start of the next generation, you shall become great one day'
'I mourn for the old Kaiser' said Jobst
'We all do'
boom
'The my decision has been stated, we shall sally forth when Ulrich comes!
boom
The particular blast sent them sprawling, as if a answer to his queries.