The End of Konrad

[gamer124 339]

THE END OF KONRAD

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10th of Amber Cold, 1669

Senntisten, Kingdom of Renatus-Marna

 

 

The knight looked across Senntisten from the balcony of his home. It was a behemoth of a settlement, massive in size and scope. He drummed his metal digits on the banister, sighing. Then, another round of griping, horrible pain spiked in his body, and he stumbled, clutching his gut. The end was near for Ser Konrad Nzech. The cancer ravaged his body in rapid speed, quickly sapping him of his energy and, at his current stage, causing devastating symptoms. Severe vomiting and diarrhea, lack of appetite, physical degradation. He felt like somehow the acid in his stomach was consuming him from the inside out.

 

Despite his moniker, Konrad’s recent marriage had significantly softened his notorious temper and callous nature, but that was not to say he still had regrets and periods of self loathing. He kept his symptoms hidden from his wife, afraid of how she might react. She was pregnant too, and apparently with a boy from the way she was carrying (“The doctors always say it’s a boy.” he thought to himself upon hearing the news). It was a blessing to have an heir from his loins. After all, his father and sister were locked away in skydaemon cages, his last direct family taken from him. Things could have been so much better. 

 

“I’m soon to die. This sickness wracks my body, I may die tonight. I may die tomorrow.” he’d think to himself, tapping the windowsill in the same rhythmic pattern. “You failed. You failed to die a martyr, like a soldier. Like a hero. Now you die of sickness like a barmy old hermit.” a tortured voice whispered in the back of his mind. He tightening his gauntlet, slamming it into the side of the window with a crack, splinters flying. “Antonius chose you, trusted you. He was your mentor, more than your father ever was. And you failed him. You failed as a leader.” the voice in the back of his head said again, and he balled his fists. “I should have controlled myself all those times, and maybe I would have succeeded. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this damned predicament. Damn you, Konrad. Damn you to hell.” he’d grumble, going to sit at his bedside. It was then when the pain in his gut struck again like a stab wound which dissipated into fire spreading across his body. He let out a cry of pain. Collapsing, he clutched his chest. The pain became numb slowly, his brain shutting it out from pure shock. “But you served your purpose.” he thought to himself, clearly even in midst of such pain. 

 

The man had lived a life witnessing deceit and troubling times against himself and saw it happen to others. The first act of treachery he witnessed in his service to Renatus was when Charles and his wife arranged a private meeting in the palace gardens with Antonius’ fiancé, them insisting on her tasting some wine (Markev Red, he thought he recalled.), and heard of her death shortly afterwards. He thought little of it at first. Then he saw those who laughed it him, those who doubted him. A mere boy carrying the Legion on his shoulders like a roadside circus act. He saw vassals and lords engage in treasonous and oathbreaking means to gain power, most notably Eimar the Fat. It was a harsh reality for him, the tales of noble knights and damsels in distress a thin facade for the truth. He had seen the battles against Norland, against Reivers, against Courland. The slaughters, the endless war. He saw shadows in every corner, as if those around him awaited to pounce on him like tigers, that could be tearing his beating heart from his chest at any moment. He felt anger. Anger at what he was supposed to become but could not. But he lived a good life too, which at many times he failed to see. He built a standing army for Renatus, from nothing. He led and commanded legions of men, a talented tactician for a time. Some people even admired him.

 

He lay down on the bed, so weak he could practically hear his bones creak, closing his eyes. “Today is the day I die.”

 

He did not open his eyes the next morning, but died smiling, content. Accepting. It was not the martyr’s death he desired, but in his final moments, he was happy. Happy for the chances given to him. Happy he capitalized on them and he succeeded for a while, when no other would stand in his boots. Thus ends the tale of Konrad Nzech - knight, general, legend.

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Ser Konrad Nzech, 1639 - 1669

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[Sultan 3953]

The corpse of Konrad was brought before the King, a hand that was not meant for being gentle touched Konrad's forehead. "Farewell, my good Knight." he turned to Pius and Commadus. "Give him a proper burial we owe him that.. And make sure his family is taken care of." he left then to stay behind closed doors.

[El Ricktador 1394]

Augustus was pondering the clues of the serial killer in Marna when word reached him that Konrad was dead. Shutting his small book of clues, he made a silent stuttering prayer for the fallen Knight.

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

"It will be done, Your Majesty." Commodus replies and he makes burial arrangements for his long time acquaintance.

[Guest]

Charles was with Aloisia upon hearing news of the tragic passing, offering a silent prayer to his former friend. “An underrated commander and a fine Knight.” he murmurs out afterwards.

[LoLzboi 661]

Yurii's face grows taught at the news of the passing of such a notable man "A life well led"

[Xarkly 17299]

 

As a torrent of merriment echoed from within the Dancing Crow, Edward Barbanov glanced up to the dark, star-dappled sky above Markev after a wayward wool merchant brought the news from Senntisten.

 

You may have been on the other side, Edward found himself thinking as he studded the array of constellations, but you were a loyal soldier until the end. No man can ask for a better legacy than that. Rest easy, Renatian.

[blago 1602]

"Rest easy, sweet muffin" cries Lady Nzech

[devvy 1348]

Aloisia looked to Charles, recalling that one afternoon in the garden. “A nosy one he was. One after another, these knights come. Someone will replace him and he’ll be forgotten like the rest of us.”

[lawnmowerman 3040]

"Who?" says a vagrant.

[Fawb 557]

Stephen Anpalais drops to his knees upon hearing the news, his head tilting upwards towards the sky as he closes his eyes and releases an agonised scream of pure pain, anguish and sorrow that would stir even the hardest man to tears. "konrad ..."

[1_Language_1 1671]

The one and only Betka Nzech dabbed and cried in a dark corner. 

 

With her son.