THE FROG'S LAST CROAK

[John Ivory 4546]

 

The air held a crisp springtime freshness, as a light breeze danced with the feather which adorned the side of the prince’s cap. The man stood upon the ramparts below Varoche Palace, his gaze set upon the ongoing construction outside the city which had been continuing through the night. To the end, pride was the vice of a prince, and Alfred stood the proudest of them all. He had seen in his tenure of life the rise of a city which not even cleaning fire and brimstone of war could destroy.

 

---

 

Alfred found his beginnings as a clerk, thrown into the business of state by ducal appointment. The man quickly found a knack for the stewards’ business, playing his hand in the nascent beginnings of Ves upon her very founding. Through the tumultuous events which had gathered themselves around the year of 1705, the executions of plotters and the exile of the Ault family, Alfred would then rise to play the part of Duke Paul’s right hand. He was named a seneschal of the old duchy, and kept greased the wheels of state in his liege’s absence.

 

How quickly does Providence change fates! At sudden provocation, the Emperor Anthony had leveled a great charge against the Adrian people: the fear of destruction became imminent. Paul was forced into abdication. Alfred joined his former liege and the electors of Adria, and proceeded to elect Marius, King of Haense, their duke. Had they only known! Mere years after, the Free City was in ashes, and from the exhausting flames would rise a Golden Republic.

 

---

 

With a sudden tackle, the prince’s pride was sent soaring to the wooden floorboards of the ramparts beneath his feet. The wind was instantly knocked from his lungs, and Alfred sent forth a rasp. He collected himself, his eyes blurred by the sudden assault on his person; sending an elbow to the assailant, he pushed himself away with a scurry. Rubbing his eyes as he stumbled up, the young man’s ears caught word: “You’se shall be coming with me,” remarked Ser Darius Ault as he rasped his old sabre from its sheath. Alfred sent a cough, the pulse within his veins sent into a frenzy as the prince reached for the pommel of the arming sword at his side.

 

---

 

The Golden Republic, Alfred fancied it. While stuck within the stuffy halls of Varoche Palace, he and his trusted notary Jan Haas discussed the future of their nascent project. Never before had men sought to fashion a government for themselves within their realms on a scale such as this. The city of Ves was the most populous in all Renatus (or Oren, if your allegiance lies with Joseph,) let alone the world. Never had such commerce and people of good will flourished in so much excellence. Ves found itself the homeland of not only men, but elves: and influx of refugees brought about by the foreign wars had established for them a goodly share in the city’s inner life. His most trusted advisor and leal friend was Nedric Arkazniv, the gaunt high elf who operated the City’s coinage and treasury with wisened efficiency which no man could contest in skill.

 

In all the world, Ves was a jewel. Her honeyed fruits lay ripe within, just as the pomegranate bears upon her coat of arms. The city consistently found itself overpopulated, expansions and public works filling the debates of her Assembly. Oh, that most wonderous Assembly! Such was the prince’s pride and joy, an experiment in the efficient and just self-government of men. Let us pray to the Lord God for its everlasting success, for the Golden City and all her posterity!

 

Holding his office as prince, Alfred gradually found himself surrounded by friends. Edward Morris served most faithfully as his chancellor, bringing the goodness of bureaucratic efficiency to the State; he found friendship and love in an entire family, the de Falstaffs of Leuven, led by their sage patriarch Conrad. In Conrad found the prince a most trusted compatriot, one whom he would place his trust forevermore. He was wed to his most dearly beloved Catherine, and all seemed a joy.

 

Alfred found himself on the road to Nenzing, joined by a small group which included the Captain of the City Watch, the late Ser Sun Watanabe. Within the halls of the Stafyr estate did the prince first meet the man who he would later pledge his fealty to, Joseph of Marna. Joseph would become a most beloved friend to the young man, and lead Alfred and all the City of Ves into mortal warfare.

 

---

 

The prince did then draw his weapon from its sheath, raising it to a point upon the Grand Knight which he had held such rivalry with for all these years. Truth be told, it was uncertain to him why the two were delivered into such a nasty relationship. Perhaps it was by the hand of Paul, but Alfred had never known the man whilst he still held influence in Adria prior to the Ault family’s swift exile. These matters of State, oft thought Alfred, do well to destroy the good will of men.

 

Alfred leveled his sword to the Renatian commander. “Not without a fight, Ser Darius,” said he, retorting with stoic breath. Certainly death had finally come for the prince; all knew he was not a fighter. Stacked up against the murderous Ault, so famed for his prowess in combat and his brutal demeanor, Alfred could naught do but put up one last fight.

 

---

 

There were dark bags under the prince’s eyes. He had grown so tired these past months, with the affairs of war. The Orenian warfront was in a disarray. Their troops had been repulsed in the Siege of Helena, taking with it the lives of the Field Marshal Arthur, and Captain Watanabe. Within the very first month of fighting, his dearest friend and chancellor, Edward, had been put to the sword by Renatian troops. There had been so much blood, and for what? There was only so much the young prince could do to convince himself of the truth which would soon meet him.

 

The prince’s sword would soon meet the Dragon Knight’s own in fatal combat.

 

---

 

Amid the clash, the prince’s free arm was caught by Darius. With a swing downwards, the man’s cleaver led straight into Alfred’s shoulder. “Grah!” yelped he as his arming sword dropped from his hand, tossed aside as the prince had dreadfully expected. Alfred threw himself stomach-down onto the ramparts, licking at his wounds.

 

 

The old Ser Darius then knelt himself upon the prince’s back. Alfred continued, sending curses upon his assailant, “You… traitor!” Darius would not allow the prince’s words the final peace, rasping forth his retort.

 

 

These words Alfred could not find much protest in. While the old Darius was his enemy, he fought for the men which he had given his oaths. The prince spat upon the ground from where he lay, the dark blood of a mortal wound forming at his throat. He was being suffocated by the weight of the armored knight, and could do nothing but accept his fate.

 

What Darius offered then was the death knell of goodness, in Alfred’s very own thought. He knew Ser Darius and all the Renatians as just that: loyal to a fault. These were the men who stood by the insane Emperor Anthony as he ordered the swift destruction of the Free City.

 

"Aye, then do it then, you old bastard," croaked the prince a final time, before Ser Darius would plunge his victorious blade into his throat. All that emitted from the man was a gasp and a choke, the black mist of death quickly covering his eyes.

 

---

 

Later on then in the night would a trio of elves lift the prince’s body, and lead away in a grave, silent procession.

[Icarnus 1669]

“GOD rest his soul.” murmured a young Adrian Sarkozic, crossing the Lorraine

[1_Language_1 1671]

Matthias lifts yet a second mug of ale, still not a drinker.

“Thank GODANI for Prince Alfred Myre, may his spirit guide us on.”

[libertyybelle 6187]

Nikoletta Sofia Varoche seemed to recall the time she delivered a letter to the Prince. He had given her 3 WHOLE mina for the delivery. To a 12 year old girl that was almost like 100 mina! 

[frill 2277]

“The good prince can finally get some rest.” is the lone comment of a lesser magistrate, who seems to have secluded himself to his tiny lodging.

[pokantu 48]

eeeh?” a waldenian boy simply commented and then let out a sigh.

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

A fat, middle aged Prince Guard cries over his dead Prince. Revenge was on his mind : all Emperors must die!

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Francesca would weep within her chambers for the fallen Golden Prince, the man having shown her many acts of kindness since her arrival. She decided she should become accustomed to wearing black in mourning for the many deaths that would likely follow this one.

[Deer__ 1558]

One of the Underclerks of Ves, a dark elf, aimlessly wandered the very city she worked and lived in. She was lost within such a familiar place without her closest friend.

[SubscriptShark2 197]

Jan welcome's Alfred in the seven skies

[Vege 4804]

The Emperor nods “He might have been my enemy, but at least he died with honour.” 

[JEEGK 1367]

Donnie signed the lorraine cross, looking up to the blue sky above “Keep Prince Myre company up there, Ser Mercer.”

[MadOne 4945]

Wilheim, upon hearing the news of the Prince's demise kept a stoic face, recalling the times he saw the man from afar. He had kept fair distance to the management of Ves, but has been a regular visitor and an admirer of the city. He sighed as he sharpened his sword, sat in the stairs of Reza. "The city prospered within your ever watchful eye, may your soul rest upon the seven skies."

[sergisala 3451]

Tobias the Jester shrugs as he realises that he has been unable to fullfil the mission given by his master, Clive the Jester, by his own.

[Chimp 528]

“Death with honour” a man murmurs.