Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[GeneralHankerchief]

Outside of Damascus, 1232

Conrad Salier and a minor scouting party consisting of several friends and retinue members were on a mission east of the city to survey the lands in case of an attack from that direction. The day was ridiculously hot out and of course, little shade was offered, so the mission would not be as long or productive as the people back in Damascus wished it would.

“I don’t even see how this is helping anybody,” Hugo Bresch grumbled. Hugo was Conrad’s veteran warrior, who had been with Salier since his campaigns against the Milanese back in Europe. The two were only really together in battle, as Hugo did not share in Conrad’s interests in religion or governing. “I mean, the Mongols are all gone and we don’t really have to worry about Egypt for a while… Who’s going to attack us out here? The Turks?”

“Careful,” Conrad chided. “There is always the possibility of a surprise attack. Did you think that Pope Gregory, God rest his soul, expected Kaiser Heinrich to violate Papal borders and take Rome? The desert is large, and we do not know what is on the other side, willing to cross it and take new territory.” Hugo simply nodded. It was easier to simply agree silently than argue and have to listen to all of that religious rhetoric crap.

“Hill to the north,” someone pointed out. It looks pretty defensible, especially if the Turks do decide to attack.” There was some minor snickering. In silence, the party swung to the north to take a closer look. Once they had crested the hill, before they had the chance to survey the land around it, a dark shape was moving their way. Upon further inspection it was found to be a lone carriage carrying goods. The scouting party, by Conrad’s orders, blocked the driver’s way. The poor man got out and started shouting at them in Arabic.

“Translator!” Conrad called. “Kindly inform this man that the city of Damascus and its surrounding area is now under the control of the Kingdom of Outremer, and as such we are allowed to deny access to its borders. Ask him about his cargo and his destination.” After several moments, the translator replied.

“He’s carrying something called hashish, from the East,” said the translator. “It’s a certain form of some kind of plant that can be smoked. Apparently, this man says, it makes you very happy.” At the mention of “happy,” the driver grinned and started to nod furiously, saying something in garbled German: “Yes… happy… big happy… you try, yes?”

After a moment, Conrad nodded. The Bible didn’t really say anything about smoking, and if it was bad, he would ban it. Besides, one time couldn’t hurt…

The Arab driver showed Conrad how to prepare the hashish, and after Conrad did so and took his first whiff of the smoke…

…and after Conrad did so and took his first whiff of the smoke, the landscape gradually changed around him. What was once mostly desert was now solid rock of various shades or red, orange, brown, and black. All at once, the flat stagnant sand/rock suddenly rose in some places, depressed in others. And then the no longer flat but still stagnant sand/rock erupted into flames, so the whole land was burning except for a path that Conrad was conveniently riding on…

…Conrad looked back at his scouting party but now there was no scouting party, no Arab driver. Instead, behind him, neatly in marching line were thousands of horrible human/bat/gorilla creatures armed with swords and shields and spears of ancient times, beating their shields as instruments and chanting in unison:

“In eleven fifty-four! We shall be prepared for war!
In eleven fifty-four! We shall be prepared for war!”

…Horrified, Conrad urged his horse (who had mysteriously changed colors from brown to purple with yellow polka-dots) forward at a gallop, but over the next ridge was a sheer cliff, with a river of lava waiting a million feet below for whatever unlucky soul fell off.

…The purple with yellow polka-dotted horse did not stop in time and they went over the edge, with Conrad screaming, but they didn’t fall – they were just suspended in mid-air, and the horse continued to trot on absolutely nothing…

…Beside Conrad, also riding on nothing, was the Mongol lord that Otto von Kassel had just defeated, Jebe the Tyrant. He sidled up beside Conrad, looked at him, and smiled. “Hello Conrad,” Jebe said. “Hello Jebe,” Conrad replied. “Where am I?” “Why, you’re riding on thin air, a million feet above a hot river of lava. I suggest you don’t fall off.”

…a gust of wind blew Jebe’s head off (oh right, he was decapitated) and they both watched it fall a million feet below but then Jebe continued talking as if he didn’t notice, and Conrad could hear him clearly despite the fact that the headless body of Jebe had no mouth: “You know, you still have work to do,” Jebe said. “Another wave of my people is coming, and this one will be much larger and powerful than the previous wave.” “Oh really?” Conrad asked. “Why should I trust you? You’re a Horse Lord.”

…the headless body of Jebe laughed and Conrad’s horse changed colors again. This time it was plaid. “Dude” (Dude? What on earth does “dude” mean?) “Dude, I’m dead, remember? I have no personal gain either way in this matter.” “Oh yeah,” Conrad replied. That sounded reasonable. He paused, and then a thought struck him. “Hey Jebe, how come we can understand each other? I mean, I thought you couldn’t speak German, and I know I’m not speaking Mongolese…”

…Jebe laughed once again and put a hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “Actually my friend,” he said, “we’re both speaking English.”

English?

…all at once the body of Jebe and his horse disappeared and suddenly gravity kicked back in and Conrad and his horse started hurtling down to the river of lava a million feet below, but this was only momentary as they regained momentum and actually started to rise – his horse could fly? – and then they were racing upwards, flying in circles and dive-bombing nothing…

…all at once, a giant arm came out of the sky and grabbed the two. Conrad was facing the index finger, and at the tip, where the fingerprint would be, he instead saw the face of Maximillian Mandorf…

…the index finger began to speak, in Mandorf’s voice. “Conrad, wake up,” it said. “You need to get back to Damascus, somebody has something to say to you.” All at once, before he could reply, the hand started squeezing very hard, and Conrad screamed, he was losing air, he was going to burst under pressure…

…he was going to burst under pressure but he suddenly snapped back to life, fully aware of himself. He looked around at the scouting party who, to his horror, looked away, not wanting to face him eye-to-eye.

“How long was I out?” he asked. Finally, Hugo said something. “About two hours. Although I wouldn’t really say you were out, so much as not there… what do you want to do about this man?”

“Arrest him and burn the carriage. Hashish is an evil substance and the Lord most certainly did not put it on the Earth in this current form. We’re heading back to Damascus.”

The next sound heard was a unison sigh of relief, broken only by the Arab driver’s yelling and (presumably) cursing.

[OverKnight]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

A cooperative story between myself and GeneralHankerchief.

Acre, 1232

The King of Outremer had never fully recovered from the Battle of Galilee. The many wounds of countless battles had caught up with Otto von Kassel, and the loss of so many men had taken a toll as well. He aged quickly, wracked with pain and moving slowly. Still the past four years had been pleasant, as he had passed off the day to day affairs and battles of Outremer to others, enjoying a semi-retirement at Acre with Elsebeth.

In the spring of 1232, however, Otto fell ill. A chill that would not go away despite the warm weather. He was wise enough to know his end was coming and sent for Conrad Salier. While awaiting the arrival of the Count of Adana, he discussed his final wishes with his wife while on his deathbed.

"Have you got it all, my dear?", asked Otto weakly, "I know it is a lot ask, but the case for Outremer must be made in the Diet. I hope my words still carry weight there."

"Yes Otto," Elsebeth replied sitting next to him on the bed, tears in her eyes, but her voice clear, "I know what to say to the Diet. I am a Princess, I was raised in the Imperial Court. I did not spend my youth in the army after all."

She smiled as Otto chuckled and briefly touched her face before his arm dropped back down.

"As for the other. . .arrangements, I understand. Do not worry. . .save your strength."

https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showp...&postcount=235

A servant entered and announced the arrival of the Count of Adana.

"Send him in, we must talk," said the dying King.

Conrad Salier was somewhat frightened upon his return to Damascus and his summons to Otto. He remembered with great clarity in his hashish vision the face of Maximillian Mandorf telling him that someone had something to say to him back in Damascus. He had passed the plant off as devil's work, but it had correctly predicted that King Otto was dying...

Enough. Now was not the time to debate the merits of the plant. The King of Outremer had some final words to say, and Conrad would go in and hear them.

Otto weakly waved Conrad over as the Count of Adana entered the bed chamber.

"Elsebeth would you give us a moment?"

The Princess, eyes red, glanced from her husband to the new arrival and left the room with some hesitation.

"I am sorry I cannot stand to greet you Sir. I am glad we have an opportunity to talk before the end. I wanted to thank you for answering my call for help those many years ago. It turns out we were both Pawns in the Kaiser's game, but I'm grateful you came, nonetheless."

Conrad chuckled. "I'm glad that I was a pawn in this Kaiser's plans rather than the last one's, sir. Although I came pretty late, I'm glad to be of service."

Otto's mouth quirked upward in a wry grimace. He was silent for a bit, as if lost in thought.

"Outremer is secure for now, Conrad. We put paid to the Mongols, the Egyptians have barely bothered us, and the Turks are restive, but contained by Adana. I am content. But even now the seeds of new threats are growing. My watch is done, but yours has just begun.

"Many in the Diet will point to the destruction of the Mongols and say that our work in Outremer is done. That the Crusaders should be brought home and a token force left behind. They will talk of the homeland and its needs. Our worst enemy here might be Electors of limited vision in Rome. I ask that you continue to argue our case in the Diet."

Conrad nodded. "The homeland seems to be doing well enough on its own. However, I of course shall do as you ask."

Otto continued: "Another threat, I am sad to say, lies among the men of Outremer themselves. I would like to think everyone who took the Cross did so out of true piety and patriotism, but that is not so. Hell, my own motivations for going on Crusade were less than ideal. There are those among us who would use Outremer for their own ends and ambitions, perhaps to set up their own Empire in the East. This must not happen."

"If anyone comes into Outremer with that attitude, I shall either correct their thinking or put them in a negligible position. You can be sure of that," Conrad said with a cough. Theoretically the whole point of Crusading was to give up titles for a higher purpose, but someone had to govern the Levant. He would make sure that only the worthy did.

"And, of course, there are the external threats to the Holy Land. The Turks are newly aggressive and the Egyptians might decide to put in a renewed claim to their old lands. I fear that the Mongols might return. We destroyed their forces here, but from the rumors I've heard their Empire stretches all the way to lands beyond imagination. Will they take their defeat here as a warning to go elsewhere or a challenge to meet again? I do not know."

The King of Outremer raised himself out of bed, grasping Conrad's arm for emphasis as he spoke, "But watch the East, Conrad, watch the East!"

Otto's impassioned plea had drained him, he fell back in bed, coughing and breathing heavily.

Conrad, slightly alarmed, knew to reassure the man on his deathbed. "Of course, my King. We will be safe from all threats, do not worry."

In the back of his mind, though, the hashish and the headless body of Jebe the Tyrant came through. More of us.

No. Now was not the time. Discipline. Otto wasn't quite done yet.

The King of Outremer gathered his little remaining strength and spoke again.

"Do not lose heart, Conrad, the Hordes of the East might seem limitless, but God, as my years in the Holy Land have shown me, is on our side. He guides us and sends us artifacts to aid us."

He motioned to a bureau at the side of the bed. A small chest stood atop it, "Open it."

Conrad did so and gasped. Staring at him upon first glance appeared to be an ugly bramble of long-dead sticks, but Conrad's experiences with religion told him that this was the famous Crown of Thorns that Christ Himself had worn before His crucifixion. And here it was... before him, presented to him.

"When I retook Jerusalem, this along with some other relics, was given into my safekeeping by the Christian residents of the City. At first, I thought it was a forgery, like so many others 'Holy Men' sell in the bazaars. Yet, I kept it, and over the years I became convinced the Crown is authentic. Just a feeling perhaps, but still. . .It was with me when I destroyed the last Mongol Army, in His name I did conquer. Much to my own amazement."

Once again Otto motioned to the chest.

"Take it, it is now yours. The Grail may have left the Holy Land, but Outremer should have its own relic. Real or no, it will serve as a rallying focus for our Crusaders, and an object of fear for our enemies. Keep it safe Conrad. But remember, it is men, men like you, who are the final arbiters of success or failure."

Conrad could only nod. After about a minute he found his voice again. "I shall not fail you, my King."

Otto now spoke in a whisper, "I almost forgot. I meant. . .do you remember when I sent you away from Rome so I could send Friedrich Scherer to deal with Pope Filippus?"

Conrad paused. Why was von Kassel bringing this up now? He was always conflicted by Otto's actions on this matter. Otto had twisted Conrad's edict, killed another Pope... but he had gotten the Reich reconciled. Conrad decided that it was best to simply nod.

"I must apologize for that. I sent you away because it was asked of me. She didn't want you to face the Pope in battle."

This was getting weirder and weirder. "She?" Conrad asked, thinking of Otto's wife. Did Elsebeth have that much influence over Otto? Power and influence did run strong in her blood though...

But then Otto said something that made Conrad wish that he was referring to Elsebeth. "Cardinal Otterbach. She didn't want you in that battle. It was her price for supporting Cardinal Aston for Pope. I assumed because of your religious upbringing. Seemed odd though."

Conrad gaped at the dying Duke. "You're trying to tell me that Cardinal Otterbach was... female?"

Otto blinked and looked up at Conrad trying to focus, "Oh. . .yes. Kaiser Heinrich once told me that Charles was actually a woman, if you could believe it. Seems the Priesthood is filled with them. Odd, but she served the Reich well, God rest her soul."

Conrad put his hands over his eyes. This wasn't happening. The Cardinal had been quite friendly with his father, Maximillian Mandorf, more than just your average priest/confessor relationship... Otterbach had always been there for Conrad, suspiciously turning up in his life at certain points, almost as if she was watching over him, as if she was his...

"Oh no. No, no no no..." Once again, Conrad seemed to sink in his own misery. Thank goodness he only had two parents.

"I am sorry Conrad. Outremer is your charge to keep now. God help you."

Otto paled and spoke in a smaller voice than before, "Goodbye Conrad. Could you please send my wife in? She would be very angry with me if I left without her."

Conrad composed himself enough to reply. "Goodbye, my King, and have a good journey. Thank you for everything." He gripped the King of Outremer's hand, turned around, and departed, carrying the chest. After nodding to Elsebeth, he realized that his father's face had been in his hashish-induced vision.

This was just too much to be coincidental.

Elsebeth returned to the room, glancing behind her at the departed Count.

"Can he be trusted? He has not always served you loyally."

Otto sighed and began to cough again. After a moment he responded.

"This isn't about me, Princess, it is about Outremer. Besides Henry, I trust him above all others to ensure the safety of the Kingdom. I will die, but Outremer must live on."

Elsebeth's facade cracked, with a moan she sunk to her knees besides the bed, seized Otto's hands and began to cry.

Otto comforted her as best he could, "Shhhh, 'Beth. Such is the fate of young woman wed to an older man. I am sorry."

Elsebeth looked up, tears running down her face, hair scattered.

"I love you. I will mourn you. . .a nunnery, I will join an order. . .take vows, I can't. . .can't, not without you."

Otto looked on his wife with compassion and sadness, "I have no doubt you would be Mother Superior within a month. But that is not your path. You must make you own way now."

He stroked her hair, "You are Elsebeth, daughter of an Emperor, Queen in her own right. A nun's habit is not for you. You have been my strength, my faith. There is much left for you to do."

Otto began to fade. His hand again fell to the bed. Pain flashed across his scarred face as he struggled to speak.

"Keep an eye for me on Bavaria. Gerhard is a good man. . .a good Duke. His sons. . .they grew up in a Reich triumphant. . .they did not know the humiliations and privation of Heinrich's early reign. . .before the reconquest. Do what you can for them, my love. Do what. . ."

Otto trailed off and drew a last ragged breath.

Elsebeth kissed him fiercely.

"Of course. It will be taken care of. All of it. Rest now, it will be done. Rest."

Otto eyes closed as the pain left him. His features relaxed as he let out his last breath. Otto was at peace, the King was dead.

Elsebeth collapsed onto his chest weeping. "My Roland," she kept saying, "My Roland."

[Northnovas]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Part 2 of story at request of Chancellor for the whereabouts of the Crusading Danish Army after the battle.

Chancellors Office Report

The Imperial Spy submitted his final report of the Frankfurt incident involving Prince Jobst.

To the Honourable Chancellor Hans,

I am advising you that I did not complete mandate of my original mission. I was ordered that there was a change in priorities I did not need to attend the battle site as originally directed. However, I am submitting what I was able to find out in my investigation.

I went to the camp of Prince Jobst but there was no information to be gathered there. The men gave inconsistent stories and the Nobles were not talking. I continued north and followed the trail of the Danish Army.
I was sometime behind them but I was able to obtain information. Most of the army broke up along the way. Some units joined local settlements for defenses. Some of the Nobles made a hasty route for the capital Arhus.

I continued on to the capital and picked up the stories along the way. The stories from the Danes were about the treachery of the Germans and death of the Prince or the Crusaders crushed the Germans on behalf of the Faith. The locals told there stories in song and tales but there was no consistent facts.
When I got to Arhus the Nobles had appeared to be associated with the Governor of Arhus Sweyn of Svanabyr. It came apparent that the state of the Danish government is dysfunctional by internal strife. This led me to further investigation of the country. It was rather difficult but information could be bought for a price.

In the battle Prince Jobst thought he was fighting the Danish Prince who was leading the Crusading Army. This was an assumption by most of the Crusading Army and some of the Danish court but it was far from the truth.
King Charles to be in better favour of the Pope joined the Crusade. He could not lead because of his need to defend Antwerp from the Scots and the English. Prince Haakon was ordered to lead this army.

However, the Prince not a young man himself had no intention of joining the Crusade. The life of nobility of wine, woman and song was just too good.
He had his first cousin Harold to take his place. The only condition that when he met a foreign dignitary he would advise that he was a representative of the Prince and not say he was the Crown. Most of the units in the Crusade thought they had the actual Prince with them with the exception of a few nobles. The Prince then traveled to Stockholm to have court and a low profile from the King.
King Charles was not aware who was really leading the Crusade. From Stockholm the Prince continued plotting to usurp the King. This has led to discord in the Danish House.

Even though this action led to war with the Danes nothing has happened. They cannot function to coordinate an offensive attack on the Reich in the most likely area Hamburg. The King is too tied up in Antwerp to deal with internal matters back home. The nobles are building up protection from each other. They are on the brink of civil war.

My final summation would be that the Danes had manipulated Prince Jobst into attacking their Crusaders. Why?, because of the turmoil in the House but how I do not know. The information Prince Jobst had was convincing enough for him to take the action he did but who was responsible from the Danish Nobility? I do not know and may never find that answer.
I had wished to source more of the information obtained but as you are aware are standing throughout Europe is low. It is very difficult to interact with other courts and diplomats in making inquiries of intelligence.

Respectfully Submitted,

Dimarus von Luxemburg