
Originally Posted by
Edmund Becker
Throughout my entire service to the Reich, I have only wanted one thing: To enjoy the peace that the Reich’s constant wars should have earned us by living peacefully in Prague as it’s count. My heart’s desire was to live amongst my people, enriching their happy and peaceful lives with my benevolent rule.
But it is all for naught. Despite my conclusion that Bucharest could not be held, I was ordered by Arnold to reclaim the city anyway. To attack the city when there was an army of Hungarians greater than my own so close was madness. I knew this, and now Arnold knows it as well. But god forbid the Reich simply leaves a people alone, not when we have already slain their sons, brothers and husbands and claimed their homes as ours. The Holy Roman Empire is a demon who knows only war. So here I sit, writing my final letter as a man who is already dead. Perhaps I am being premature, but if so than no one else will know of it.
Now my heart is black, and as I can see the Hungarian banners just outside the city I have a new hope that occupies my heart: I hope the Reich burns. I hope it’s Duke’s are slain, for they give nothing to the Reich save a lust for war. I hope that every elector in the Diet who slaughtered prisoners, sacked cities, executed civilians and taxed their supposed subjects to keep the cycle going is drawn and quartered. I hope their memories are alternately ridiculed and spat upon as the ultimate folly that man is capable of. Clearly it was Milanese who knew how to deal with the Reich.
Yes, I am bitter. I have spent my service to the Reich trying to escape the fate of my brothers. But now I too am dead, another sacrifice in the name of the Reich’s expansion. By god, I hope that every one of you share my fate.
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