Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[TinCow]

(Written by OverKnight)

Florence - 1374 AD

No one knew who started the fire. The Florentines blamed the Greeks, the Greeks blamed the Germans and most of the city's population had been killed, so the matter was in doubt. Yet the Cathedral of Sin had burned, all that was left was scorched stone and a few stray embers. The main building had collapsed in on itself, and the tower was half gone, a jagged black tooth thrust against the night sky. The locals said it was haunted and dared not approach.

A lone figure made his way toward the ruin. Stopping at the entrance, he lit a torch and shone the light into the depths. Shaking his head, the cloaked and hooded figure strode into the building.

Eventually, after a few twists and turns, the man emerged into a room neither the flames nor the Greeks had touched. The triangular table and ebony chairs remained. Only the presence of dust indicated the passage of time, all else was as it had been. The room was lit, and his Brothers waited for him.

"Have a seat, you are late, and there is much to speak of," said a cloaked man to his right. He pulled back his hood, it was Lothar Steffen.

A cloaked man spoke to the left, "Aye Voice, we can begin. You have news of the trial?"

Lothar smiled coldly, "Yes, Grand Master, I have been found guilty of Regicide. Though none of us should find that shocking. I am now an outlaw and condemned to death."

The latecomer spoke, "So, the moment of crisis has come. You took an awful risk Lothar, if you had been captured. . .You've always been a bit too overconfident."

Lother turned to face the latecomer, "You speak to me of risk? I am the Voice, it is. . .was. . .my job to be noticed. You helped in that matter, or do you forget our 'arguments'? And I was not the one who defied the Council, brother."

Matthias Steffen threw back his hood, "I did not defy the Council, I chose to stay in Outremer when everyone else fled. It was a risk but it has worked out well for us. Still, I always enjoyed playing the 'battling Steffens', but I am glad the time for action has come."

Matthias turned to his left, "Grand Master, with the Trial over, what do we do now?"

The Grand Master pulled back his hood, a glint of obsidian mail could be seen below the cloak.

"It is time," Duke Arnold responded, "To initiate the Plan. Do I have the Brotherhood's agreement?"

In turn, each man in the room spoke his assent. Then, as one, the remaining Brothers stood and approached the table; forming a pyramid around the pyramid, with the Grand Master as the eye. All voices spoke in unison. “Re acre accipemus, cuncti pro bono terrae, finorumqu'et regni.”

A cloaked Brother hissed afterward, "Sic Semper Tyrannis."

"For the Republic," whispered Matthias to himself.

When it was done, Matthias turned and walked back into the darkness from which he came. Eventually, he knew, he would emerge once again into the warmth and light of the world above. Soon, though, Kaiser Peter would not.

[Ferret]

Dieter sat in the courtyard of his manor in Frankfurt. With him were two boys, his son Sifridus and his nephew, Andreas. Despite their young ages Dieter could clearly see what kind of men they would become, his old age was good for something. Andreas was just like his father, Jan von Hamburg, he had a proud face and had showed nothing but honourable intentions since his birth. Dieter was proud of the lad and wished he could call him his own.

Sifridus, in Dieter's opinion, was a disaster. The boy's mother had died when he was very young and Dieter had no patience for young children. Sifridus had been left under the care of Alfgarda, Jan's widow, but it was clear she largely ignored him and favoured her own son. This had a great affect on the boy, Dieter thought the devil himself had infested him. He had been found torturing Dieter's guard dog and even once been found attacking an older girl late at night. The boy was stuck in a downward spiral. He did each thing to try and gain Dieter's attention but each time a bad deed occurred Dieter hated the boy more, he was more like a von Kastilien or even Arnold, that very name caused Dieter to shudder with anger. Thus the boy was punished but at least then he was able to see his father thus next time he would perform a greater act of mischief. He had a great tolerance for pain and clearly enjoyed spending time with his father despite supposedly being punished.

The problem had worsened over the past few years and he was now uncontrollable. Dieter was truly afraid of what kind of man his won son would become...

OOC:shame we'll never see

[Cecil XIX]

Prague, 1380

It was morning, and a thick fog clung to the city and it’s surroundings. From the south gate emerged a wagon, readying to depart. Behind it walked Edmund Becker and his overseer, Klem. The former turned to the latter, preparing to end their conversation.

“You have always done well in managing Prague, my friend. I know you will be the key to it’s reconstruction when I am gone.”

Klem cast another nervous glance at the wagon before them, before returning to face Edmund. It was now or never.

“My lord, are you truly going to leave us? After all that’s happened, how can you turn your back on this city?”

Edmund closed his eyes, and sighed.

“It pains me to say this, but I can no longer help Prague. I should hope when I am gone, the victor of this Civil War will be more prone to treat Prague as part of the Reich. Besides…” Edmund paused, pushing away the darker thoughts that had momentarily surfaced. He turned to away from the city to look at the road before him.

“All my life, I’ve been fighting for a future. It was a future I envisioned when I first married my wife, a future where I would live in peace at Prague with my family, using my talents to turn it into one of the Reich’s greatest cities. It was that vision of the future that kept me going, that convinced me it was worth being forced by necessity to play the role of General.”

“But now I find myself in old man, and if history is any indication than I shall die in six or seven years. The future that I dreamed of is dead. Perhaps it died long ago with the cataclysm, or with the plague. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that I thank god every day for my family, for their absence would mean that I have wasted my life serving the Reich. Now I go, to seize the future that a dreamed of elsewhere.”

He turned back to face Klem, and noting the not-quite-convinced look on his face handed him a small parcel. Klem quivered to receive it, for he knew the holy object that it contained.

“Make sure this finds it’s way to Hugo when he comes of age. I did not intend to borrow it for so long. Goodbye my friend, and may my departure signal a better era for Prague.” The man nodded, unable to give force to his feelings of disappointment.

Without another look back, Edmund took his place on the driver’s seat of the wagon. After taking a look at Contzel, Gredechin, Fredericus and Wilhelmus, their journey began.

***

As he expected, the air was not particularly pleasant. Edmund was both ashamed and slightly pleased that Fritz had decided not to remain in Austria. His name was unfortunately well-deserved, and he was certain to find a place in the new regime whatever it was to be. He turned his head to Contzel.

“I know this has been a trying ordeal, but it will be over soon. The English have shown themselves loathe to mount a major military campaign, and have been by the large content to live peacefully on their island. In that respect they may be the most civilized people in the word. At long last Contzel, we will have the life we always wanted.”

No one spoke. Again, Edmund was not surprised. He could only hope that time would make them more receptible to their new life. For now, Edmund concerned himself with the road ahead towards the Adriatic. In order to avoid pursuers he though it wiser to take the longer route to Vienna. That had it’s own dangers as well, and in order to avoid being recognized it was necessary to stay in smaller towns that were unlikely to be visited by electors. But Edmund had their route all planned out, and if all went according to plan they we would spend their last night on the continent in the city of Trent.

[Cecil XIX]

Trent, 1360

It was before dawn, and Edmund Becker was tending to the horses and the wagon in preperation for setting off. As he walked back to the inn where his family was staying, he noticed that there was an unusual quite in the city. He did not understand it, and he increased his pace until he entered the inn.

“Why are there no people on the streets? Surely I am not the only man who rises before the sun.” The owner shrugged.

“We’ve heard tell that the battle will be fought today, m’lud. Some have left the city to escape the victory party, and everyone who isn’t tending to a business like me is sleeping. We figure it’s gonna be a long night.”

Edmund’s brow furrowed. “What battle?”

“Why, the battle between the Imperialists and the Republicans of course! What have you been doing these last few days that you haven’t heard of it?”

Edmund did not hear that last sentence, as he was already bolting up the stairs. Only the greatest of restraint prevented him from scaring his family half to death when he opened the door.

***

Thankfully his skill at campaigning had been showing through in this trip, and they were back on the road with little fuss. But up ahead, he could see a checkpoint of soldiers.

“Halt!” Came the cry from ahead. Edmund complied, and turned his head to give his family a reassuring look. As the soldiers approached, a knight on horseback rode out to speak to them. Edmund could tell from his livery that he was one of Lothar’s men. “State your business.” The knight demanded briskly.

“My family and I are headed to port. If that tyrant Peter should be victorious, God forbid, we’ll be on the first ship to Outremer.” Edmund spoke irratably, emphasizing his Austrian accent. The knight nodded appreciatingly.

“You may pass, though your fear is unwarranted. Duke Lothar shall be victorious.” Before he could turn to join his fellows, Edmund spoke again.

“Good sir knight, I cannot let my family get involved in the battle. From where comes the violence, so that we may avoid it?”

“The battle shall be fought over yonder hill and the tyrant’s forces shall come from that direction.” The knight spoke as he pointed in the right directions. “Stay close to the road from here on, and you shall not be bothered.”

“Bless you sir knight. I pray the day brings you glory.”

***

After a while, the checkpoint was long out of sight. Edmund looked up at the Heavens. His wife noticed the look in his eyes.

“Edmund!” Contzel cried out.

“Contzel…” Edmund lowered his head, then looked her in the eye. “I won’t be long. And I will keep our promise.” Edmund quickly stopped the wagon, dismounted, and began to untether the spare horse.

“Fredericus! You’ll be in charge while I’m gone! Keep to the plan and get to the port, I’ll be right behind you.” Not wanting to burden himself with arms and armor, he quickly mounted the horse and galloped off towards the battlefield.

***

Having moved as quickly as his old body would let him, Edmund was quite pleased with the speed with which he had arrived at the battlefield. Looking towards the south and the north, he could see the smoke from the campfires. Though he was on the periphery, he could just make out the larger banners denoting the various lords under whom the armies had assembled. It appeared that the battle was just about to begin. Edmund sighed.

“Very well, noble Reich. At least allow me the honor of witnessing your death throes.”

[Privateerkev]

Edessa 1380:

On a farm owned by the von Hamburg family, a knight rode up on a horse. This place had been in the family since Jan was the Crusader Count of Edessa. Now it was the home of an old hermit.

Opening the door, the knight saw an old woman rocking in her chair by the fire. When she looked up, a smile brightened her face.

"Max! What do I owe the pleasure?", Alfgarda rose to greet her old friend.

The knight bowed, "My lady, it is good to see you. But we have something important to discuss."

Alfgarda went to the kitchen to fetch herself and her friend some tea.

"I'm afraid the Reich is descending into civil war. For real this time."

The former Queen of Outremer paused in mid-sip. "I'm sorry to hear that. But it's out of my hands. I retired ever since that monster entered my husband's city."

Max sat in silence for a second. "But it is that monster that needs your help. There has been proof. Proof that it was Lothar that killed Kaiser Siegfried. Proof of the Order. Proof that your husband was right all along. Roughly half of the Reich's nobles have joined with Fritz to fight Lothar."

Alfgarda took the information in. Sipping some tea she finally said, "But what can I do now? Earlier, when I had the ear of Kaiser Elberhard and some of the other nobles, I could maybe make a difference. Now? I'm just an old woman that everyone is glad to be rid of."

Max stared at her and swallowed. "Fritz could use some more legitimacy. Think of it. One of his great enemies goes to the Diet and proclaims her support. It might sway some of the neutral nobles. Plus, your husband owed Kaiser Siegfried big. And he never got the chance to repay."

That last hit Alfgarda hard. Max was right. For some reason, Siegfried had entrusted Jan with Outremer. Given him a promotion and a purpose. Even re-appointed him when it was politically difficult to do so. Jan had been obsessed with finding Siegfried's killer. He always suspected it was Lothar but he had no proof. All he could do was strike at Lothar's allies, like Dassel. And upset the career of others, like Matthias. Jan had died before he could do more.

"Alright, but what if I do what you suggest? From what you said, it seems the battle is almost underway. I could be too late."

Max looked at her with all seriousness and said, "My lady, your husband would say that it is never too late to do the right thing. Fritz may be a monster. But a Reich led by the Order would usher in a darkness that would blanket the whole world."

Alfgarda sat for a minute sipping her tea. Finally she said, "Fine, let me pack."

[gibsonsg91921]

Should Hapsburg survive the battle, there's no way he'll be Duke of Austria, Peter thought as he poised to charge. He came late and he's still just sitting there! The Zirns are a nobler family anyways.

The Republican forces were nearing him. His conscious thoughts fell apart as he drove Schwarz furiously into the fray.

[TinCow]

Trent - 1380 AD

“What is it, m’lord?”

Lothar swiveled his head to look at the man who had spoken. It was one of the younger Bavarian knights, Dietmar, or possibly Ditwin. Lothar hardly bothered learning their names anymore, at least not until they had survived a year. He arched his eyebrow at the young warrior.

“What is what, Sir…?”

The man’s face blushed red. “Uh, Sir Hartrad, m’lord.”

The Duke of Bavaria grimaced and looked back at the battle lines. Who in the hells was Sir Hartrad, and what had happened to Sir Dietmar? Had there ever been a Sir Dietmar? Lothar spat on the ground and looked out on the battle before him. A mass of men were swarming in, around, and away from each other everywhere his eye could see. Arrows and bolts fell from the sky, and the sound of gunpowder weapons firing still sprinkled the air. Men screamed and died, but the Voice of the Illuminati did not even break a sweat.

“Sire…”

Lothar turned back to Sir Hartrad. “Ah, you mean Duke Arnold’s banner, do you not?”

The young knight nodded sheepishly.

“It is the sign of the birth of the Republic.” Lothar gazed at the rippling red flag. It pleased him greatly to see the insignia of the Illuminati displayed so publicly, and so proudly. It had taken many years of hard work and sacrifice to reach this day, but total victory was at least within reach. He turned back towards Sir Hartrad and was about to say more, when a rider arrived from the right flank.

A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around the man’s left thigh and his horse was soaked with sweat, but he managed to stammer out his message between gasps for air. “Lord Bernhard reports… the Imperials… right flank… fighting each other…”

Lothar smiled broadly and clapped the messenger on the shoulder. “Thank you, my good man. That is the news I have been waiting for.”

The rider nodded. “Any message to deliver, m’lord?”

The Voice of the Illuminati smiled. “Yes. Give my regards to my son. Oh, and if you see Brother Maximillian, tell him that his father and eldest brother would be proud of him. The Zirns have always been the most loyal and devoted of the Illuminati brotherhood. He honors their memory well. Brother Karl and Brother Johann are surely looking down on him with pride this day.”

When the Duke of Bavaria said nothing more, the rider simply gave a quick nod and began his ride back to the east. Lothar returned his attention to Sir Hartrad, whose gaze was now affixed to the immense black flag that waved from Duke Arnold’s position. He answered before the knight could ask his inevitable question.

“That, my young friend, is the sign of the impending doom of all the Imperialist fools.” Lothar laughed and clapped his hands together in mock applause. “How arrogant of them to believe that they could ever defeat us by force of arms. They do not even realize that this is not a battle, it is an execution. The war was won before any man took up arms.” The Voice of the Illuminati grinned broadly and looked deep into the eyes of the young knight. “This is simply the most efficient method of killing those who remain.”