THE KING'S FIRST ADDRESS

[Emenzi 1069]

 

 

 

Men, all this stuff you hear about Haense not wanting to fight, wanting to get out of the war, is a lot of bullshit. Haensemen love to fight. All real Haensemen love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion jousters, the strongest soldiers, the heaviest drinkers and the toughest brawlers. Haensemen love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Haensemen play to win all the time. That's why Haensemen will never lose this war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Haensemen. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.

 

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he's not, he's a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he's scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under crossbow fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.

 

All through your army careers you men have bitched about what you call “this chicken-**** drilling.” That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a **** for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some Renatian son of a whorewill sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of ****. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Upper Roudenburg, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are Renatians graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.

 

An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the The Crow Chronicles don't know any more about real battle than they do about *******. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we're going up against.

 

All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every carriage driver decided that he didn't like the whine of the crossbows and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands.' What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Haensemen don't say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the bolts, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the fort, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the grunt shits, has a job to do.

 

Each man must think not only of himself, but think of the man fighting alongside him. We don't want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we'll have a nation of brave men.

 

One of the bravest men I heard about in the Helena campaign was on top of a trebuchet in the midst of furious crossbow fire while we were moving toward the city. My father stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sire.' 'Isn't it a little unhealthy up there right now?' He asked. “Yes sire, but this goddamn wire has got to be fixed.” He asked, “Don't those arrows strafing the road bother you?” And the man answered, “No sire, but you sure as hell do.' Now, there was a real soldier. A real man.” A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.

 

And you should have seen the carriages on the road to The Silvesea. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son of a ***** roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with arrows flying all around them. Many of the men rode over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old Haeseni guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight will be lost.

 

Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can't win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Curonians. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Helena and Albion. So keep moving. And when we get to Helena, I am personally going to gut that paper-hanging son of a ***** Godfrey.

 

When a man is lying in a hole, if he just stays there all day, an arrow will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don't dig trenches. Trenches only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and showing the Renatians that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to kill the bastards, we're going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the wheels of our carriages. We're going to murder those lousy cocksuckers by the bushel ******* basket.

 

Some of you men are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out in battle. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you'll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Renatians are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Stab them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When bolts are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it's not dirt, it's the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you'll know what to do.

 

I don't want any men saying “I'm holding my position.” We're not holding a goddamned thing. We're going to be advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding anything except the enemy's balls. We're going to hold him by his balls and we're going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living **** out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to fight and keep on fighting.. We're going to go through the enemy like **** through a tinhorn.

 

There will be some complaints that we're pushing our people too hard. I don't give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a keg of blood. The harder we push, the more Renatians we kill. The more Renatians we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That's not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Roche who, with a dagger against his chest, swept aside the dagger with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Renatian with the helmet. Then he picked up the dagger and he killed another Renatian. All this time the man had an arrow through his lung. That's a man for you!

 

There's one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, “What did you do in the great War of the Two Emperors?” You won't have to cough and say, “Well, your granddaddy shoveled **** in Ayr.” No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say “Son, your granddaddy rode with the great Haeseni army and a son of a goddamned ***** named Andrik Lothar Barbanov!”

 

All right, you sons of whores. You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere. That's all.

 

IV JOVEO MAAN,

His Royal Majesty, King Andrew III of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of  Kusoraev, Dules, Ulgaard, Lahy, Sorbesborg and Slesvik, Duke of Adria, and Carnatia, Margrave of Rothswald, Count of Karikhov, Baranya, Kvasz, Kavat, Karovia, Kovachgrad, Torun, Turov, and Kaunas, Viscount of Alamar, Baron of Valwyk, Venzia, Esenstadt, Krepost and Kralta, Lord of the Westfolk, Lord of Markev, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera

[Kanadensare 456]

((you spelled address wrong, emenzi))

[GhostSHTR 1205]

“AVE HAENSE!!!!!” Exclaimed Peytr Ludovar

[lucasking321 124]

Jorii sits upon the bank of the river and thinks about how Haense lost two of their major vassals. Jorii would just chuckle and go back to counting all the coin he got from the last battle.

[Drew2_dude 2636]

Duncan Looks to his family as they sit around a table tending their wounds and talking about their endeavors. he chuckles, “Now that’s a fookin king I’d die for, one worthy our loyalty just like his father!”

[Imperium 3495]

12 minutes ago, Drew2_dude said:

Duncan Looks to his family as they sit around a table tending their wounds and talking about their endeavors. he chuckles, “Now that’s a fookin king I’d die for, one worthy our loyalty just like his father!”

Marius smiles the suns smile from the seven skies 

[1_Language_1 1671]

Quote

Duke of Adria

Matthias coughs as this title is due to be destroyed.

 

“This new king surely has a mouth on him, he will be a great speaker and leader, regardless if he can get past taking God's name in vain.”

[Imperium 3495]

1 minute ago, Quintessential said:

Matthias coughs as this title is due to be destroyed.

Marius shakes his head from the seven skies, “A traitors agreement, one we never signed”

[CaptainHaense 1154]

Captain Haense swims for Haense!

[1_Language_1 1671]

On 6/8/2019 at 9:18 PM, Imperium said:

Marius shakes his head from the seven skies, “A traitors agreement, one we never signed”

Matthias, having lost all his friends and most of his family, hopes to join the skies soon.

[trinn 5128]

“Bold of him to mention the War of the Two Emperors, when Haense abandoned their Emperor Joey.” Adeline adjusts her spectacles in contemplative thought. 

[AnonymousAlexa 3890]

Katharina read her best friend’s address and smiled. She knew he was going to be a great king. She did not think selfishly of the fact that their days of playing childhood games were over and instead was happy that Andrik seemed to be getting over the loss of his father.

[InfamousGerman 1553]

[Pureimp10 5691]

“Damn who knew a nine year old could speak so well? And curse so much..” says Otto

[blago 1602]

1 hour ago, Quintessential said:

 

"Die a rebel rather than live a legacy as a coward afraid to stick with a cause they spoke fervently on" Elijah the Farmer coughs out in a blooded gruttle, continuing to pick the rich carrots from Leuven soil which he knows will soon be taken from him.