Meanwhile the marriage we spoke about a while ago is taking place: Unfortunately, the latter isn't even 10 years old at the time. Still, the Princess wouldn't be thirty when he came of age. But who would have known, who would have though Get an heir, my younger brother. As long as he isn't an imbecile, I will make sure my own sons understand the needs of the situation. A neighbour is talking about some roses: The King's own elder bastard brother or so the current Duke of Moravia of the Opavan Premyslid dynasty has a similar origin: But if I have no other way to free Poland?

What if, in the ensuing events, Jan Premyslid also receives the Polish crown? Now I don't have an immediate claim on Cracow or lordship over the bishop of Sacz, which we will address later. The Archbishop Gniezno is in my de iure duchy but a direct vassal of our so called king instead of me. I would have to go to war against Waclav to fix the situation and I'm not going to. The rest of the lands of Poland are in the hands of my cousins, except for Lubusz, which is currently held by somebody from the "Holy" Roman Empire and I can't even dream to DoW the Kaiser. So it's time to move the plot forward.

Except that nothing has changed in several years as it is, nobody will join it. I might be able to persuade the Archbishop but this is partly due to the fact he won't be fully happy with any secular ruler anyway. At least I can afford mercenaries but difficulties are twofold: Could perhaps turn 2 to my advantage but 1 is always going to be a problem.

Maybe if I save a lot of gold and hire two bands of each? But sieges would still take long and I'd need to survive all of Waclav's re-raising, which can become tough, very tough. But I can't sit here waiting while I'm getting old and my sons are up to take one duchy each. Henry the Duke of Silesia, head of our dynasty is already incapacitated or close to it and our Masovian cousin can't do that much.

We need a king a real one and fast. Fast means within my lifetime. This is actually very hard to do.


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Nobody will accept the plot and just like in real history, the pivotal person seems to be the Archbishop of Gniezno, Jakub Swinka not a lowborn in real life, actually, his father was a nobleman. The Piast cousins seem harder to convince than in real life. Open war is impossible to work tried that as an experiment, Waclav has like 3 times the army and battle losses outweigh smart management. Meanwhile the power of the plot wanes and the archbishop is already advanced in years. NewbieOne , Apr 10, I keep for 'meta' reasons.

It explains something about the difficulties in the game I played. To let you know what's going on, I've been forced to reload. I had an off-shot of this game where Vaclaw II turned Fratticelli, got Holy-Warred by everybody around him for most of the duchies, including those held by my Catholic cousins, who were still replaced totally. When Vaclaw lost all land in Bohemia, which was all land he had anyway, he automatically took my county of Chelmno, which I had taken from the Teutonic Knights a while ago.

Also, it broke my plot to acquire the crown of the Kingdom of Poland, even though Vaclaw still held both royal crowns. I could choose the plot to institute elective monarchy, but that was broken too a while later. I also DoWed the new Fratticelli bishop in my de iure duchy that Vaclaw appointed. Vaclaw died, replaced by his very short-lived Vaclaw II.

I had nothing to do with the death, I only noticed when some young face wanted to appoint me chancellor. The youngling was actually a half-Piast, through a daughter of Henry the Fat, formerly the Duke of Silesia and head of our Piast dynasty. So in a way that kid had more dynastic seniority in the house of Piast than my duke Vladyslaw, even though he was of a different dynasty actually.

I was inclined to accept the Chancellor appointment and let that kid rule but he was Bohemian anyway, no longer even King of Bohemia, as that too was usurped of him, so essentially a Bohemian import holding 1 county on his own and 1 more through a vassal duke, in the Kingdom of Poland, while I had all the rest that hadn't been grabbed by the HRE Lubusz, Lower Silesia or Sweden Masovia or Hungary Upper Silesia, Opole, Cieszyn.

I was too weak to oppose those nasty Hungarians. The best I could do was probably become the ancestor of all dukes in the rump kingdom except for one Bohemian import by Waclav II, the one I took Kalisz from , and maybe hope to regain counties or duchies one by one, e. There would be no way to usurp the king, plot the crown out of his hands, nothing. Maybe a lucky succession through a brotherless daughter.

Maybe the Elective Monarchy plot would once again become available, in which case one of my current Duke's sons or grandsons could feasibly win the election at some point. Or maybe I could marry the kid to my daughter to give his own kid another share of the right blood, in which case changing the culture to Polish would likely occur at some point.

Needless to say, I could also very easily go independent but that would make all the duke-tier gavelkind successors go their separate ways and fall prey of the neighbours.


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I would achieve worse fragmentation than the one I was patching up. In fact, a Premyslid king with a Piast mother and Piast grandmother and especially Polish culture on top of that would be better than that, by far. Perhaps I could "fabricate" claims to everything to make up for the fact that the game didn't give the right claims to the Piast princes even though their fathers, brothers, uncles etc. A time of relative peace. It's time to build some baronies, upgrade the castle villages and towns But the problem with the mercenaries is that you need income to support them. You will always scrounge the initial fee somehow.

Income basis is what you really need. But I also need to gather the lands of the Kingdom of Poland. My brother sat on the royal throne there as did my father before him, kings without crown, custodians for the better times. And his father and the father of his father all the way back to Boleslaw, who chipped his sword on the gates of Kiev and almost became the Emperor back in the day.

Can it be difficult to get a recognised claim in such circumstances? What does that Bohemian courtier have on the Duchy of Cracow, the seniormost ducal title in Poland? Even less than Waclav who put him there. I fear for him. Pride and wroth are not alien to our house. They have been the downfall of many in it.

I can't but recall myself in my younger years. Was I that much different? Speaking of the little princelings my children, we need to endear the lord Archbishop to the cause of our house. He had crowned Waclav when he had seen enough of our house infighting. Now he sees that wasn't the best choice. We have all made mistakes. I've had my share too. He was every bit a small-time Piast princeling like every one of them when he was young.

It was his middle and later age that brought him to the courts of Europe as a landless vagabond with the right blood to rule Poland, though certainly not the only one, not even the most senior of them. The Archbishop, son of a Polish knight, wanted unity and national preservation in the face of the influx of foreign settlers. According to a legend, he complained about foreigners right as he had just crowned Vaclaw. Meanwhile Waclav is holding a tournament: I don't want to talk to Waclav. I can't attack him openly but I don't want any shade of affirmation of him as my supposed liege.

But would people understand? I will hail him as the King of Bohemia if I need to.

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He is a king, after all, and in that his dignity is higher than mine. There is no shame in acknowledging a king for what he is. I will careful avoid any notion of vassalage, while giving him all the respect a host, and a king, is due. There will be no warming up and no sweet talking though. I am not a traitor that weasels up before backstabbing. From the perspective of my age it suddenly doesn't look so attractive as when I was a twentyish young ambitious Piastling.

More like the opposite of it. The event has made me realise how old I am. There is no shame in losing a tournament if I rebuild the kingdom of my ancestors The time really is short. One prince and one bishop against all. And we are old men. We shall set out to correct the mistakes of our youth I am too old to insult you, King of Bohemia. It would do no good and spare no evil. There are times I wish we had met in different circumstances for you clearly have the markings of a capable ruler.

I must still bid you vacate this home of my ancestors in which I would abide you as a guest but not its lord. Your house is noble and equal to ours but it is not the house of Poland. Peace be to you and your ancestors. I shall do my duty to mine. Just I and the Archbishop. It took you a long while before you even got around to marrying a Piast princess to give a semblance of legitimacy to your foreign rule imposed by force.

You are Bohemian and that is fine. Your are a Premyslid and that is even better for it is a worthy line of rulers. But you are not a Piast and this kingdom is not yours. Defend what you think is yours. It pains me that some of my cousins will join you in that. We will ago around our lands to avoid unnecessary battles, and concentrate. They can siege the castles, we will lock up until the armies come back, while the attackers suffer from attrition and are tied up there.

Let's execute a two-prong strike from the lands of my cousins the more or unless unwilling vassals of the Bohemian king. Unfortunately, we cannot help the Archbishop's men. Even if we make it, there will be but a handful to save and the war may become lost through our delay.

The archbishop's troops will mostly provide diversion and they will pay a heavy toll in blood. Meanwhile down in Bohemia there should be Bavarian troops pressing the claim for Domazlice with their swords. In the fighting, my duke takes an evil blow to his head. He is incapacitated and his days are numbered. Even more numbered than they already were.

A regent has been appointed. Every single one of you received your spurs and your castles and courts from me or from my father or my brothers or our ancestors the Piast princes. I stand by what they did. Now I need you to stand by what I did as I barely see you straight. There will be no glory in this war, although there may be plenty of dying. What is ahead of you is lack-lustre siege duty. I need you to Cracow, gentlemen. It is also taking its toll on the duke.

The time is really, really short. Will we make it before he dies? The Archbishop has done his most important part. It would be a pity not to see him see a restored Polish kingdom in a Polish hand but the rest can be done by his successor. The Prince, in turn, must live.

He is the lifeblood of this rebellion. If he dies, it dies with him. Poor, dwindling army, poor bloody infantry, there is no glorious field of battle fore you. Just a little more of your lives, and this is so much to ask but it is all for Poland. The crown, Henry the Fat can have it if he wants. My brave soldiers, you die so fast. If any noble fails to show you respect once you, some of you, get back home, I will personally make him pull the plough, as my own ancestor Piast did before he was made prince.

They wanted Chelmno back, which I took from them fifteen years ago. Ironically, they are no friends of Vaclaw and had we not fought, they might have joined the plot. But to ally oneself with the treacherous Knights? What a fate for a Polish prince! The six thousand are less than a half of their army. The greater part is in Chelmno, which has already fallen. The Knights changed sides and murdered Polish burghers in Gdansk.

Wladyslaw had no troops to deal with the situation, he could not help. Chelmno constantly changed hands. But it is only after this that we will deal with them. We will hide in forests if need be. We cannot afford any more delays in the war against Waclav. We must push for the Kingdom of Poland now. There is no choice. We can only continue sieging and hoping. Soldiers of Poland died aplenty but so did the mercenaries. Probably a half of them. What right to I have to send men to fight for me and have only half of them return, or less?

On your knees, all of you! I don't care who your parents were, it is enough that I am a prince, as good as any. I shall see to it that you have a home here and no longer need to shed your blood for strangers for coin. I sit on your throne, brother. I can die in peace: But the rift has been sealed. The long line of the Piast kings has been restored Konrad I was the grandfather and Leszek II a brother, Boleslaw V an uncle, the Henryks were close relatives of the current Duke of Silesia, Henry the Fat, the dynastically senior descendant of the house: For all the men that died, I wish we could for once be neighbours.

The current situation has made the Knights reconsider their war for Chelmno and they have withdrawn from hostilities you can see their numbers now. It is for the better for them, as now I have all of Poland's levies to take it back to them. They will be my son's worry, as well as a Bohemia with a claim. What do I do now? Hold a ground tournament to show the spirit of the kingdom? Give a large feast to cement the loyalty of the Piast cousins and celebrate? How about I go to the cemetery to weep for the fallen? I should take a sack full of spurs with me.

Many of them were lads who would not live to their knighting. And I don't care one bit if they were millers' sons. We were there, through blood and mud, and Piast himself was a wheelwright. Wladyslaw drove back the Teutonic Knights and showed that it was not impossible to defeat them. His son turned to diplomacy and construction and put the devastated country in good repair before dying as the last King of Poland of the Piast dynasty, although the house persisted in its most senior and most tragic Silesian line way until as all but forgotten mediate HRE vassals through the Kingdom of Bohemia.

The Bohemian claim remained a source of trouble for Polish kings for a long time also in the form of pincers with Teutonic Knights threatening the opposite side , although, ironically, after the Hussite wars the son of a Polish king, from the new Jagiellonian dynasty, sat on the throne in Praha, replacing the extinct Luxemburgians, who were heirs of the Premyslids through women and claimed the Polish crown.

Kazimierz was also the "peasant king", the last one who both cared and could do anything meaningful to help them. Subsequent kings were hostages of the nobility. NewbieOne , Apr 11, Mar 4, Messages: Are you Polish, or just interested in our history? There's only one problem here: Could you do something about that?

NewbieOne , Apr 12, Cleaning the House, Marrying the Heir After regaining the kingdom, there are some things we need to do from the get go. At least enough to revoke the title from that foreign duke in Cracow while I'm still alive and can take the backlash so that my son doesn't have to: Speaking of my son, it's time to find him a wife. Do I want a pretty one or a good girl or someone with land or someone with claims?

Let's take a look: Unfortunately, while at war, we didn't have the time for this and we missed a couple of them. They are now sixteen, ruling and married. But they are far away. And nobody knows if they would have accepted my son back then, when I was a duke at war with a double king. Just look at the Countess of Gemer! What a sweet girl! Quick of mind, diligent, humble at that, and so kind. Just a little bit shy, which I guess can be a somewhat endearing and gives her a weakness some people could love her for. My son could fall in love with her.

But can I afford this? The county would pass to their children and into our realm, the duke of Nyitra would have a ducal claim, backed by the whole power of Hungary and they would, essentially, have every right to press it. And there would be rebellions all the time as there is no direct connection to our lands. I guess we could quietly allow the rebels to take over and secede back to Nyitra but one doesn't inherit land to give it up next decade.

Who else is there? Fifteen, brave and probably more military skill than my marshal! And more than I can currently muster out of my old body and troubled mind. She is technically an "ambitious bastard". I wonder what people called me when I was young. I'm sure I would like her. I guess she could channel the pride and wroth of my son with that ambition.

What a serious face. I can imagine a bastard's like isn't easy. Whom else do we have? That lass Berta Orsini is too good to exist. She's better than my entire council except maybe for the chaplain. I've always had a good one. She isn't even ugly. Let's take a look at Duchess Freja, though: It looks like that's Queen Freja to you! She has a claim on the Kingdom and on the Duchy of Skane, its principal vassal: The bishop went independent, that guy Christian usurped the kingdom. He still sits on one county and has no dukes or counts as vassals other than Freja.

This would be an easy job. She also has a claim on the Duchy of Estonia: We would also be freeing the local populace from their oppressive rule. Look what they did in Chelmno. If I can free any poor people from their yoke, I am ready any time. Oh well, except I won't live to see it. There is a problem, however. If I married my son to the deposed queen, and their son inherited the claim, it would not be entirely right by the laws of Denmark. The crown is elective. Freja was crowned, she has the right to take the crown back even if she loses the next election following the death of the usurper.

But her children's rights wouldn't be so good. Just the injustice done to her and her blood in their veins. And they would be of house Piast and Polish foreigners. I could marry her to my eldest son and let him go to her court, keeping the children Danish, but then I'd have a Danish king and this is not what I fought against Waclav for!

Plus, the usurper is the head of their dynasty: But he's still a usurper! He took the crown by force! And his current heir is a German count from Swabia who happens to hold the title of the Duke of Slesvik, making him eligible to be elected King of Denmark as de iure vassal of it , even though he is not even its de facto vassal he is under the HRE. I wonder what the Danish people would say. I'm pretty sure they would prefer a Piast prince or princess from Poland, child of their rightfully elected queen. On the other hand, if that Slesvik guy actually ascended to the throne of Denmark, he would probably bring Slesvik back to the fold!

I can't imagine the Kaiser having enough authority to prevent the title from passing outside his realm! This could be good. Certainly good for Denmark, possibly good for me. But I wouldn't sacrifice a young queen to see it happen. It would be ideal if she pressed her claim herself and called us to war. This would put the entitled holder on the throne, violating no law, nor stretching any beyond its limits.

And then an election would take place according to the law. Either the future king of Poland would be chosen, or one of his siblings, giving us a permanent, reliable ally.


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Or perhaps a vassal would win, maybe someone from the current dynasty. I guess I really don't want to bring war to a country to avenge a previoous election. The burghers and peasants and even the knights did nothing to deserve that. Also, since she has a claim on Skane, we could take it back from the greedy bishop. Poland has enough manpower to see it done. Except I wonder if we wouldn't be becoming like Vaclaw in doing all this. Using technical claims or relying on past coronations Vaclaw was crowned too, by the same Archbishop Jakub who operated the plot with me to meddle with foreign kingdoms, while obviously gaining power and displacing the local dynasty.

Just like our own house Piast lost its kingdom. As far as her personality goes, she is honest, content and diligent. Can you blame a wife for being this? While this is not the shining repertoire of Berta Orsini, she is nothing to be complained about. There is one more woman, Dobronega of Chernigov: Not a single virtue to her, only vices. Gluttonous, proud and wroth. Incidentally, proud and wroth is what my son is as well find me a Piast that isn't! I guess they would understand each other.

And gluttony can take various forms. She doesn't need to turn into a pig. But whom am I kidding. She is more likely than not to become the big bad ugly woman in my son's life. I wouldn't do that to him. But in doing it, we would be driving three duchies and four counties away from the Golden Horde! The Christian populace there would surely appreciate no longer having savage pagan overlords. Also, look at the big picture: There will be fewer dukes to ally against the Khan. Right now, they are mostly related to each other, all of the House Rurikovich, from which several mothers of our kings and princes proceed.

We take one away, they have less power together. But at least those four counties would immediately become free! Well, immediately upon passing out of the Golden Horde's hands and into our realm. Truth be told, they should rather go to a Rurikovich prince, who should marry that duchess. That would be the natural turn of events. Maybe I should leave them all alone there.

I would certainly prefer to leave this particular woman alone. But she's only a child yet. Maybe she will get better when she's older. I could leave it up to my son, but if I gave him a duchy to emancipate him, the advisors would botch it. They can't handle a simple betrothal for anything in the world and what if the one or the other woman is half a year older than my son and finds a different husband in the meantime? Besides, I'm pretty sure all those people would be somewhat prejudiced against a single county duke and it's not like I can give him much more , I could get him much better if I leveraged my own negotiating power.

Those idiotic advisors could even convince him to marry some imbecile courtier who knows from what backyard. No, I have to do it myself.

I need to sleep on this. Except I don't know if I will even wake up. I was a fine diplomat at the height of my skill. One of the best even. Nor was I that bad at intrigue, either. Probably would have made a semi-decent spymaster. Likely better than the one I had. But this stuff is difficult. I almost feel like it's above my paygrade! I don't want to bring misfortune and war to Denmark. I don't want to intervene in the natural fate of House Rurikovich. But if I simply get my son a pretty queen, it will only bring him comfort.

If I get him an able one, it will only help things in the small scale and get me some smart grandchildren to rule our nation, but it won't help our safety from the outside. It won't help against our enemies. But if we go out and fight in foreign lands, we will gain more enemies and the new threats will be hard to predict. Oct 29, Messages: I would say Berta Orsini. But I don't have the game and probably misunderstand all the game's mechanics. Ticket Cookie , Apr 12, Nov 27, Messages: While you get no alliance, her stats will help boost Wielislaw's own.

The only other candidate I think is plausible is Queen Freja, as while you may not gain and hold the Kingdom of Denmark for long, at the very least you would gain lands in Denmark and Livonia, which should last longer. You just need to make sure the HRE doesn't get to Denmark first. Andrzej I , Apr 13, Dec 15, Messages: Thanks for your involvement, much appreciated.

I had indeed decided that Berta Orsini was the best candidate out of them all. He looked thoughtful for a while, debating with himself, before he turned and spoke to her; "My name is Abhorash, of the Blood Dragons. Tell no one Yao Haa Dushi. He was an unusual man though, so it suited him. Though the world need not know the truth, our people deserve to know who it was that delivered us from doom. He had saved her people, and with Hardy as her witness, Yao Haa Dushi swore that she would serve him until the end of her days.

There is more than one The roaring of the flames were so loud, the only thing that could drown them out were the screams of the inhabitants inside. Centurion Pontus looked up from the ground. He spat out blood. They say that the fields around Alnus hill were horrifying to behold, from the sheer number of dead alone. He hadn't been there, but Pontus knew in hsi heart that whatever happened at Alnus was nothing compared to here.

His legion had been assigned to the northern territories to patrol against the petty lords who would think to take advantage of the Empire's weakened state. The Empire was caught in the midst of a civil war. After the good Emperor Molt was poisoned, his idiot son Zorzal tried to take power, killing and imprisoning those nobles who refused to accept his rule. The second son Diabo fled the capital, and those more inclined to fantasy claimed that he had fled through the Gate on Alnus, to seek allies on the other side.

Bullshit all of it; more likely that Diabo sought support among the lords in the outer provinces, far away from Zorzal's influence, and would try to convince them to take the throne. Princess Pina, the daughter of the Emperor's favored concubine, had thrown her, and her Rose Order of Knight's lot in with the Invaders, who now fought those legions loyal to Zorzal.

The rumor was she had opened her legs to the Invader Princeling, Markgrave something or other, and promised him her hand if he would make her Empress. Three unworthy children, all spilling blood over the Imperial Throne. Pontus spit on all their names. They were all inadequate compared to Molt Sol Agustus.

Zorzal would destroy the Empire by continuing the war with the Invaders, Diabo was useless, and when the fighting was done, and she proved victorious, Pina would hand over the smouldering remains of the Empire to the offworlders, so long as she was Empress of Ashes. There wasn't much Pontus could do about these turns of events. He remained at his post, and guarded the north, to prove to the barbarians that though the nobles had forgotten their honor, the Men of the Legions were still their betters on the field of battle. For some months he was stationed at the city of Ravvena, fighting the petty warlords, drinking half frozen ale, sleeping with half frozen women, and otherwise freezing his balls off.

A patrol hadn't reported back. Then a merchant caravan, scheduled to arrive later that day hadn't shown up. Fires burned on the horizon. At first he thought it was the tribes, but then more fires were lit, and more, and then more still, until it was so bright, when night came, it seemed as if the sun had not gone down. Pontus knew that something was wrong; all the northern tribes together did not have enough men, women, children, or animals to need that many fires, even if they all gathered together.

This was the work of someone else. A lone rider came to the city's gate. He was the sole survivor of the first patrol to go missing. He claimed that there was another Gate, and that a great horde of barbarian men and monsters emerged from the it, and now marched towards the city, and if they had any hope of salvation, it was to run, far and as fast as they could. The general had executed the man for cowardice, and then rallied the legion for battle. They would defend the city with their lives.

The rider had neglected to mention just how truly massive the horde arrived, and they stretched on for miles, across the horizon, with no end in sight. At their head, a banner-bearer, featuring a circle with eight points. They made no demands, no parlay was given. They simply attacked, with such ferocity that they put the infamous warrior rabbits to shame. On ladders they scaled the walls. Strange and monstrous creatures battered down the gates. Horrible siege weapons knocked down the walls. Men, several heads taller than any man of the Empire, carved their way through the Legion, and once inside, made no distinction between soldier and civilian, killing, mutilating, and burning all they came across.

The general had been killed by a brute in massive blood red plate armor, and Pontus' century had been hacked to pieces by a band of near naked fanatics. Now, Pontus was alone, bleeding to death on the snowy streets, and watching as the barbarians raped the city. He never liked Ravvena, or it's people, but he never wished this on them, not in a million years. He glanced around the street, waiting to die He rode a steed of blackest night, which breathed the fires of hell.

Clad in armor more imposing than the others, and with eyes glowing bright yellow, Pontus knew that this This was a horde filled with barbarians, monsters, and other countless horrors.

Dusk Peterson

For one man to command them all was beyond belief. He was here, however reluctantly, on the wills and whims of the Gods; to burn the world laying beyond the Gate. The Goddess of the Underworld, Hardy, had forged the Gates in a fit of boredom. She desired new things to pique her attention, and found them in the form of the world that the Gates led to. The Gods of Chaos took that as a challenge, and as an opportunity. They directed Archaon, whose Grand Legion was poised to strike at the weaklings of the soft South, to direct his fury through the Gate, which had appeared in Norsca.

Archaon obeyed, and now he and his followers poured out through the Gate, and into the land beyond, to burn and slay, to corrupt, and to claim in the name of the True Gods of the Universe. When this was done, then, and only then, could the Everchosen return his attention to his true purpose; The destruction of the Empire, the mewling south, and the World in it's entirety. He is the eldest son, and you are merely the second. Even with our hosts combined, we cannot overcome such a host! The old fools he had gathered together in this tent were the lords of the outer provinces, and their combined armies numbered 40, men.

These were personal armies, not legion sworn to the Empire, and as such they had been spared the mauling that the Vassal Kingdoms and the first Expeditionary Force were subjected too at the hands of Empire of Sigmar. These lords were situated far away from Zorzal's sphere of influence, but they still feared him.

Most of his army is raw recruits, and have never seen battle. Your forces are all seasoned in the fighting against the barbarians. Every one of your men is worth five of Zorzal's. Then there is the matter of Princess Pina. Her new husband, the Invader Lord, has twenty thousand men at his disposal, as well as their powerful weapons. We also hear news of the Vassal Kingdoms swearing for her. I fear that if we should, by some miracle, overcome your brother, we would be overcome ourselves by your sister and her barbarian husband. Or are you all sheep, easily frightened by the wolves?

Our lives and liberties are at stake! Should Zorzal succeed, he will instigate a purge in the noble classes on such a scale that eve the gods will be shocked. Then he will destroy the Empire by warring with the Sigmarites. Should my sister become Empresses, it will be in name only, for it shall be her husband, and the Griffon Lords beyond the Gate that decides the fate of our countrymen, from lowest slave to highest lord! You are not stupid men, you know all of this. Yet you would cower behind your walls, and do nothing to save our Empire?

Nevertheless, I will fight for the Empire, with or without you. We will not give you our armies. Because I thought you were all brave men of the Empire, ready and willing to put the only right candidate on the throne. The man was tall, standing a head above the tallest lord there, and over his chain mail armor was a tunic dyed blue and red, with an ornate cup design stitched into it.

Ikasury | FanFiction

The man's face was neither young, nor old, but shone with a brightness that no one, human or other, possessed. The Lords all looked at the man and they knew that he was no ordinary mortal. For once, the rumors are true. I did go beyond a Gate, not the one at Alnus Hill though. There is another, but it's location remains my secret. On my journey there, I found myself in Bretonnia, and through a series of fortunate events, found myself in the company of King Louen Leoncoeur, a mighty warrior and a just ruler. When I told him of the ills that had befallen my fatherland, he promised to aid me in ridding it of both Zorzal's bloodlust, and Pina's reckless ambition.

More than enough to crush this foolish Prince Zorzal. He had convinced them that with the Bretonnian's support, he was now a viable alternative to his siblings, and not a lost cause. They didn't need to know just what he had to offer King Louen to secure his support lands for the knights, which he could confiscate from Zorzal and Pina's followers, and an end to slavery , and they did not need to Then they could complain all they liked. I brought you here because I want your support.

When they write the histories about this day, what do you want them to write about you? That you helped Emperor Diabo claim his crown, or that you stayed at home, and shamed yourselves with your cowardice? Union of States Pina looked out over the balcony and gazed at the cityscape of Altdorf, capital of the Invad- Empire of Man, and the birthplace of her new husband. It was a large city, just like Sadera back home. Unlike the beautiful city of marble and light, Altdorf was dark, gloomy, with a certain edge that the Empire's Capital lacked.

Grim faced men worked the streets, and grim faced soldiers marched in the parade grounds. Even the statues of their gods were grim faced, especially those of the Heldenhammer, whose appearance was more like a barbarian king then a diety. Marriage was still strange to her; not the concept itself, as a Princess of the Empire, it was expected that a husband was in her future, sooner or later. Her time as the leader of the Rose Knights merely delayed that fate, not prevented it.

However, she had always expected to marry a noble son of the Empire, one of the high lords, and to live out her days in a palace. Now though, she married one of the Invad-Reiklanders in a bid to use the same overwhelming strength that had already defeated two armies in order to claim the Imperial Throne of Falmart for herself, lest her brother Zorzal destroy her homeland in his mad scheme to conquer the Sigmarites.

It was not a popular decision back home. Though many in the Senate either wanted peace, or didn't want Zorzal as Emperor, they saw her marriage the Prince Ernhardt as an act of betrayal; of selling herself and her people out so she could wear the crown. They weren't exactly wrong either, but what choice did she have? It was either join with the Sigmarites and maintain some form of control over their own lands, or be rolled over and subjugated.

She turned around and came face to face with Karl Franz, Emperor, Grand Prince of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, her new liege lord, and, most of all, her new father-in-law. Do you mind if I join you? Being involved with us. Rest assured you made the right choice in my son. He's a bit grim, all Morrites are, but his heart is in the right place. He'll treat you right, and help you claim your throne.

Wars are costly and expensive, and we're pressed on all sides by foes. When she had first met the Reiklanders, they had seemed unstoppable, with devastating weapons. Now she knew better. Ernhardt and his army were small compared to the armies deployed here, in the 'Old World. Though her lord husband had managed to intimidate a number of local towns and castles into accepting his rule, his army was little more than a glorified garrison, sent to guard the Gate against any and all foes, but not to conquer to her world.

At first a part of her felt cheated, deceived into believing that a paper tiger was the genuine thing. Then she saw them in action; her brother had sent a moderatly sized force to take Ernhardt's castle, and the power of the Reiklander's guns as well as their battle wizards laid waste to that army. What they lacked in numbers, her husband's people made up for in strength. Strength alone though could not help her overcome her brother, nor make the Empire hers.

They needed more troops, otherwise they'd be on the defensive forever. Thankfully, her new father-in-law was ready and willing to offer support. Emmanulle had looked Pina over, praised her beauty, and declared that her and Ernhardt's children will be adorable, much to Pina's embarrassment. Marius abandoned all decorum and simply embraced both newlyweds in a bear hug, before chattering so fast that she could barely pick up every other word. The one thing she did hear was Marius inquiring if the rumor of all Falmart women being very attractive was true. Graf Todbringer merely kissed her hand, said some pleasantries, and walked off.

Ernhardt explained to her that the Graf's sullenness was common for Middenlanders when they weren't in battle. The festivities continued until well after midnight, afterwards they retired to the chambers the Emperor had gifted them. That doesn't mean that they're true. The mercenaries will be there to fill out the ranks, it's not as if we're trusting them with our most closest guarded secrets.

If your heart is set on not having Tileans, well, there's always the Grudgebringers. My father has tasked them in the past with delicate missions. Their leader, Morgan Bernhardt, is a good man, with honor beyond question. Father said he's contacted Bernhardt already, and the good Commander is open to negotiations. Instead he waved off his valet and walked over to the door leading to the bed. Set up agaisnt a wall of the bedchamber was a man sized object under a white sheet. Ernhardt stood next to it, a light smile on his face.

It was a full set of plate armor, forged from a metal she was unfamiliar with, but her soldier's eye recognized that it was finely made, constructed by a smith who was leagues beyond those back home. It's not completely gromril, but the breastplate and shoulders are made of it, and the rest of the highest quality metal the dawi can make. I want to protect you, but at the same time you are a knight in your own right. I cannot forbid you from taking the field, so finding the best armor the dawi can make and that a Prince of Reikland can buy to be a fitting compromise.

Besides, you're going to rule a continent; now you'll look the part. What a thoughtful husband she had found herself. The Northern Rabbit Grace was a warrior, like the rest of her people. The rabbit peoples have been warriors for as long as anyone could remember, and beyond, lead into battle by their Pureblood Queens. Until the traitor Tyuule sold out her own kind Their culture was lost, their past, lost, and their future bleak, just one more race of demihumans ground under the heels of the Empire He brought with him a great horde of warriors; men who dwarfed those who called the Empire home.

They were fierce, brave, and not unlike Grace's people had been in the past. Archaon, the great warlord, had burned several of the Empire's northern towns and outposts, before returning to his homeland with his armies The man chosen to lead these servants was called Ivar, an Aesling Champion and a great warchief in Archaon's army. It was in Ivar's hands that Archaon tasked the destruction of Falmart's kingdoms. To Grace however, Ivar was merely 'Father.

His warriors followed his example, coupling with the rabbits and begetting daughters, and soon Katherin's tribe became large, adopting and merging the traditions of the Aeslings with their own. When Ivar was defeated, his army was forced to flee into the traditional lands of the Warrior Rabbits, for the great gate that had brought the Everchosen's army into her world had closed, and the only other gate was in the Empire's hands, and lost to the champions of the Dark Gods.

That was many years ago. Her parents held a grip on their power, killing all their rivals, as well as destroying any attempts by the Empire to uproot them. They were the unchallenged masters of these lands, and any outlander who dared enter did so at their own peril. Grace had been conceived during the Great War, and her formative years were spent watching her parents consolidate their power.

Her mother taught her how to fight like a Rabbit, and her father taught her how to kill like an Aesling. Her many sisters looked to her for leadership, for she herself was a seasoned reaver, and had led many raids on the Empire, as well as those rabbit tribes who did not follow the Dark Gods. Now, with their numbers larger than they had been in decades, her parents declared that now was the time to crush the Empire, once and for all. Grace would be given a position of command, and be sent out to slaughter in the name of Khorne. The Emperor's mistress Within the playroom of the Imperial Palace, Maria had set up rows upon rows of the tin soldiers, brightly painted in in Reikland colors.

They were from her father's collection, and he allowed her to play with them on the condition that she be careful. Not wanting to disappoint him, Maria had gingerly handled them, making sure not to scratch the paint. Luitpold knelt down and held out his arms, "How's my little sister doing today? I'm the big sister, I should stay bigger! It was her mother Tyuule, dressed in a gown made of Cathayan silk and designed by a Tilean master, and Karl Franz, their father, drssed in a militeristic uniform, with the sleeves of the arms and legs colored in the Altdorf coat of arms, and the rest reminiscent of his black and gold gromril armor.

He turned towards Tyuule and made the same gesture of respect, "Lady Tyuule. Her relationships with Karl's sons and daughter from his marriage to Gerturde von Krone, a Reikland Baroness, was civil enough; more than she could say about her relationships with the rest of the Empire's nobility. Luitpold in particular extended every warm courtesy to her; she made his father happy after all, and that was good enough for him. That she was around his age didn't matter. Come, we have things to discuss with the rest of the council. I am sorry Maria, but now I have work to do.

I'll come by later. The orcs of the Old World were by far more dangerous than the orcs of her homeworld. The Imperial Council of Emperor Karl Franz met in a great chamber, seated at a great table of Drakwald oak, decorated with paintings of Emperors past, and of victories won. The newest painting, added to the room but a year ago, depicted the triumph of the Empire's armies over the Everchose at Nordland, with the famed, but missing, hero Valten, Chosen of Sigmar, driving Ghal Maraz into the breastplate of Archaon himself.

No one was paying attention to the art, however. Instead, a series of representatives from the Elector Counts read off reports of their home province's troubles; it was long and tedious, but only the very important matters were given any serious thought. We're still recovering from the Gate Wars and the Chaos Incursion. We must send an army to deal with it.

As the Emperor's mistress, Tyuule didn't really have an official place at the Council, but she was a seasoned warrior herself though her style of war was different from the one the Empire used , and Karl had her sit at his left. She felt the envious glares that the other nobles and bureaucrats shot her; few were permitted this close to the Emperor, and that such a sought after place was taken by a mistress, a nonhuman mistress no less, was taken as a personal insult by some.

Tyuule did not care if she hurt their petty feelings. In fact, a small part of her enjoyed it; lording her position over humans. The more swords we have, the better. Tyuule knew that they had reason to be afraid; since she came to the Empire, and had shared the Emperor's bed, she took it upon herslef to learn the history of her man's people One era, the Vampire Wars, stood out in particular; the Von Carsteins and their undead armies had almost brought the Old World to heel on more than one occasion, and as a result, Vampires were among the Empire's most hated enemies, and the name 'Von Carstein' was still whispered in fear, and in only the darkest corners of the realm.

Norscan raids have increased in Nordland, Ostland, and Kislev. They strike under the banners of the Everchosen. Gelt was ambitious, always looking to increase his power; both in the magical arts, and the political arena. His latest venture was trying to bring the Falmart mages of Rondal into the College's sphere of influence, but he was being blocked by Empress Pina.

Gelt was also one of Tyuule's few allies on the council that wasn't related to Karl. For all we know, Archaon is still alive, and merely biding his time. His incursion of several years ago was large I believe Archaon may have been testing our strength, and that he may still be alive. Tyuule paid them no heed. Instead, she placed her hand in Karl's and squeezed. If Gelt was right Chaos Incursions were devastating in their brutality, despoiling the very land itself.