Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[Tamur]

Fritz the Populist

Fritz von Kastilien walked briskly past the vendors in the market outside the Diet. It was a clear fall day, the trees had just begun to turn, and the smell of freshly cooked Eisbein filled the air. Ah, the day could not be finer. There was a newness to everything. The mists had cleared, the doubts fled. Time stood still on this day, seeming to turn on a very small point.

The point, in fact, of Alexander Luther's pen.

His attention was captured by a knot of people gathered near one of the fruit vendors. He strolled over, his priest Athelstan following, only near enough to be in earshot.

"...Péter..."

"...can't believe they would..."

"...how are we supposed to go on..."

Fritz strode closer quickly and used his announcement voice. "Excuse me, I am Fritz von Kastilien, Péter's brother. You were talking about him?"

Immediately the entire crowd turned and stared. Several of the woman gasped. Fritz tried to smile pleasantly, though he fingered the three scars on the right side of his face self-consciously.

One of the men finally stammered out, "We were just speaking of how brave he is." The others nodded, while Fritz smiled encouragingly.

"Indeed!" piped up a voice from the back. "It was only yesterday we heard the news. Péter gone off to fight the Byzantines!" A hesitant cheer went up from the crowd. The ones in the front row shrank back a bit.

Fritz looked for a moment at Athelstan, then addressed the crowd. "I am grateful for your encouraging words. Unlike many in the Diet, I and Péter have read Luther's words. We know what you must feel.

"A new age has awakened, my friends. We have slowly been falling into the dark, and Luther has awakened us to our duty, as Christians. We have been slothful towards God and under the burden of a Papacy who is obviously out of touch with both reality and God's word! If we continue in the same path, then all will be lost.

"I say we, but perhaps you know what I mean."

*Fritz stopped and turned on his heel, then pointed at the Diet building*

"That building. That building houses those who wish to continue on the same dark path to destruction."

*Fritz returned his gaze to look over the group in front of him. The people were plainly hanging on his every word, and he smiled inside*

"Is that what you want, my fellow citizens of the Reich?"

"No!" came a few voices.

"Will we live under the false and Byzantine-owned Papacy?"

"No!" came more voices.

"Will we submit our lives to the will of a dictator in Constantinople?"

"No!" came a surge of sound from the crowd. Others had gathered now, ringing Fritz and Athelstan.

"Then I will remain yours, my friends, and I will accost every one of the electors who walks into that Diet chamber, until they throw me out. And we, all of us, will refuse to back down until the Reich returns to glory!"

A cheer rang through the street.

"Until the Byzantine kingdom has been crushed!"

Another cheer.

"Until Alexander Luther sits on the Papal throne!"

A final, loud and lasting cheer coursed through the street. Men came to slap Fritz on the back, and shake his hand.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Ragusa, 1304

A man on a horse and his small entourage approached the front gates of the citadel. The usual garrison on duty that day was not present. Instead, a handful of men personally selected by the Governor of Ragusa, Dietrich von Dassel, stood ready to let the man in.

Dietrich was there too, ready to personally intervene in case anything went wrong. Nothing did, however, and the man and his entourage entered the citadel with little fanfare or incident. Just as planned. Dietrich made his way up to the man, who dismounted. They shook hands, cautiously.

"So this is the great Alexander Luther who has incited so much recently. I was expecting a bit more. I keep forgetting that you're a monk."

Luther chuckled, about the most anybody could get out of the man. He was rumored to be stern, as the extremely pious usually are. "You will find that we men of the Bible can be as influential as you men of iron and steel. Indeed, I believe you already have."

"Frankly, I was hoping to cause a little bit of popular unrest myself in the Diet when I stood for Chancellor," said Dietrich. "Congratulations on accomplishing what I could not. You have the Reich in full rebellion against the current agenda."

"And thank you," said Luther, "for granting me refuge and asylum in this time of backlash against me. While I admit that the tearing down of the Houses of the Lord was a bit... much... it gets our message heard. Which is where, I believe, that we share common goals."

"You are correct," said Dietrich. "The Kaiser must be stopped, that much is clear. His incompetence and disdain for the Diet has put us in dark times, indeed. So far he has two major goals; completion of which will forever harm the Reich and put the greatest empire in the world under Byzantine control. They are religious re-unification, your bete noire, as my French friends would put it, and political re-unification, which I have been arguing against. The two of these are tightly linked, for a pro-religious Pope would argue for political, and the Kaiser and his lackeys will argue for religious as well. Therefore, I offered you asylum so that we may work together."

"Which I am most grateful for," said Luther. "Travel is too dangerous now. The public can hide me well enough, but the Dukes... well, the Dukes have the military. And right now the military is out to get me, especially that Hans."

"Do not speak to me about Hans," Dietrich said with clear disdain. "It is because of his willingness to abandon me to the wolves that I am here in Ragusa and not fighting the French as I should be.

"Ragusa is your new home for as long as you wish it to be," he continued. "I shall do whatever is in my power to protect you and keep you safe. You will find all of the resources that you need to continue spreading your word."

"And in return?"

"In return, it's rather simple. Don't tear down my church, and don't do anything that would incite sentiment against me. This would be both from Electors and the common people, although I would prefer it if I had the support of the peasants should you be faced with a choice."

"That sounds agreeable," finished Luther. "May your further endeavors be successful, sir Dietrich."

"And yours, Luther." The two men shook and walked to their jobs; two outcasts helping one another out.

[gibsonsg91921]

Somewhere in the wilderness between Franconia and Constantinople, 1304

I have set off. My armies are sufficiently large to do what must be done - to cleanse the world of the Greek menace.

That fool Theodora only fed my rage - clinched the deeds that I plan to do. Fritz may be the only friend I have not in these two armies.

Two armies. I have the Prussian Army - which I hear is no longer the official First Franconian Household Army, no longer the official Prussian Army. Ridiculous, isn't it? I made this army. These men are loyal to me. Loyal to their starving families my brother Siegfried casts aside with his sanctions to the Byzantine Empire. This is the real Prussian Army, no matter what false army they create back home. This army is Péter's Immortals.

The other army, of course, is from the garrison of Vilnius and is shadowing my force. Tancred von Tyrolia - I knew I could trust that man from the second I laid eyes on him - is at its head, loyally following the cause. The cause of what is right. I will never submit to these Orthodox fools - leeching off of our generosity for years at witless allies while preaching against us in their pathetic churches that the Old Man wants to unite with. Bah! I retch at the thought.

Lars and Ulrich have returned with information. Duke Hans of Swabia, a man who I have had many encounters with, good and bad, is in pursuit of me with the Imperial Army. The fool. I do not intend to kill Germans, but I will not risk the loss of the truth.

Péter von Kastilien, the last hope for the Reich
Commander of the Immortals

[AussieGiant]

Krakow 1304

Arnold looked on as various elements of the 2nd AHA ran through the streets looting anything they could find. Smoke was pouring from a number of the great Polish houses that had obviously not fared well in the sacking taking place.

As the Duke and his heavily armed retinue made their way towards the Governors House a young girl careened out of a side alley, her skirts hitched up allowing her to run as fast as humanly possible. A moment later the all too familiar sight of some over zealous men appeared.

A quick nod to Grom was more than enough to have the big barbarian knock the two men senseless, his clothes line hit on both men lifted them off their feet and left them reeling on the sodden earth.

Peering at the livery of the half conscious men, Arnold glanced at Szczepanski, his Sword Bearer.

"Tell Jansen his “Two Hander’s” better start showing some discipline or I’ll have one in ten hung to make my point.”

The Sword Bearer’s eyes widened at the order, a moment before he was about to protest, the Dread Knight’s armoured helm turned in his direction…the effect was, as usual a chilling site to behold. Many orders were accompanied by the unnatural gaze of Bane, and many orders were simply followed because of it.

“Ahh, yes my Lord, at once.” With that Szczepanski summoned a nearby horse and quickly galloped off to inform the Regimental captain of the order.

The Duke and his retinue continued their progress towards the governor house. As the group progressed the Duke was clearly lost in thought, oblivious to the looting and destruction occurring around him.

It was finally done. Decades of fighting had finally lead to its fall, now of course the Franconian’s would want it incorporated into their house. #$# it he thought, his life was going to be one long war and with no family to speak of it was all he had, there would simply be more battles to fight and Krakow was just another one.

His spirits lifted as he thought of Karl Zirn and his sister returning to Austria, he had never seen his sister’s children and he was keen to see how they had grown.

And just as it came, his mood swung back to that of dread.

The Reich…it was seemingly on a downward spiral. Rogue nobles, mad ideas of reunification, a Kaiser that seems to have taken his eye of what his true responsibilities are.

Siegfried had clearly failed to consult both his nobles and the people when it came to his grand plan. The Church was clearly having difficulty pulling its own priest and clergymen into line with the agreements being made at the top…something that was simultaneously occurring in the Diet with the Kaisers own nobility.

How could anyone possibly make a power play of such magnitude without having confirmed substantial support before hand…the man was clearly mad or being influenced by outside forces not of the Holy Roman Empire.

Still he thought, unless he was faced with a clear act of treason or a complete break down of the Reich he was a Duke of the Realm and charged with a number of responsibilities and no one was going to ever suggest he didn’t do what he duty bound to do…at least for the moment.

Just then another scream broke his train of thought…at the front of the Governors house was another scene reminiscent of the last. A woman of striking beauty was dashing from the front hallway. Behind her another pair of Two Hander’s in close pursuit.

“Christ!!! Where’s Szczepanski and Jensen!! This is getting out of hand!!”

Drawing his father’s sword the Duke moved to intercept.

“Hold!!” Bane’s hallow voice rasped across the area. The Dukes retinue and personal bodyguard froze as they watched their Duke meat out justice.

Taking his sword in a hand and a half grip, the Duke’s lightning swing took the first “Two Hander’s” helm completely off his shoulders. Only the last second twist of his wrist turned the fatal blow in a crushing one as the flat of the sword did its work.

The second man skidded to a halt only a few short yards from his fallen comrade. His faced turned from cruel intent towards the women to complete horror at suddenly facing his Duke in a less than forgiving mood. Not knowing what the Dread Dukes next move was the Two Hander readied his weapon...the Dukes eyes widened in surprise.

"You defend yourself against me?

Your Liege Lord?!

Stand down now!!"

A slow but deliberate shake of the head was the soldiers’ only response.

A moment of shock passed over the Duke face.

“You sack of #%#$ing shiet. What’s this god forsaken Empire become!!!”

With a brutally fast and terribly crushing blow the Dukes sword smashed down on the half raised two handed sword of the solider. Amazingly the power of the strike smashed the weapon in two pieces, the momentum not enough to prevent the Dukes sword from striking with still considerable force on the top of the soldier’s helm. The blow knocked the soldier back but he remained standing but only long enough to have his face meet a straight right hook from the Obsidian encased right hand of Duke Arnold. The soldiers’ nose turned to a pulp and blood showered the front steps of the Governors house.

Grabbing the near unconscious soldier by his breast plate, Arnold heaved him bodily over his shoulder to land five feet away directly in front of Grom.

“String him up!! He’ll hang for that!!

Turning to Bane.

"Find Lorenz and his cavalry regiment and tell him to meet me here. He's more than earned his Knighthood after his performance this evening."

Half and hour later, and with a few more hangings, order was restored, turning a potentially out of control situation into a more normal sacking of the former Polish province of Krakow.

[econ21]

This story was written by Ituralde

Constantinople, 1304

Siegfried felt weary, way beyond his years. He hadn't slept enough in the past weeks. The negotiations had taken up much of his time. Had he enjoyed the luxury of the Bzyantine protocol at first, it slowly began to get on his nerve. He wanted to do things, not be stuck with empty gestures. And after spending such a long time within the Byzantine Palace with strong scents hanging everywhere, he felt an unknown longing for the fresh and clean mountain air on a cold Winter morning deep within Prussia.

Sighing audibly Siegfried reviews the letter in front of him. He felt like a traitor. The very thing he had been fighting to preserve, was now given on a plate to Emperor Isaac. The whole Diet would cry for his head. King Jan would hate him for this. After all the trouble he has put him through, all the efforts he has made, it looked as though it would lead to nothing.

Looking up he gazes at the starlit sky outside. Had his predecessors ever felt like this. He couldn't help but think of Emperor Heinrich. From all he had read he had been a strong man, who had spent most his life fighting against the Diet. He had gotten his will in the end though. Rome was now the capital of the Reich. All those years ago Heinrich had laid the foundation for Siegfried's work. He knew that this was a once in a lifetime chance to change the future forever.

He could not afford to let it pass. In the long run the investment would pay off tenfold. Wouldn't they celebrate him in the future as the founder of the new Roman Empire, once his son ruled after him. Much like Emperor Heinrich is now respected for his conquest and dominance against the Pope. He had been shunned by his contemporates. Just like Siegfried.

With a final sigh he pushes his signet ring into the hot wax in front of him. The letter was ready to be sent. Now the only thing left to do was to bring Emperor Isaac the good news and then travel back to Rome and face the wrath of the Diet. Had Emperor Heinrich ever felt this fear? It was too late to ask him...