Imperium

Kingdom of Byzantium 700 AD Royal Family King: Alexios Darius II age 45 Heir: Justinain Darius age 18 Prince Alexios Darius age 12 Princess Maria Darius age 15 Prince Justin Darius age 40 King Alexios walks along the ramparts, overlooking the great city of Constantinople. He looks out on the city which his ancestor Constantine built at the founding of Byzantium. For twenty years he's ruled Byzantium, and for twenty years his Kingdom has been idle as the world around them changed. The Empire to the west has been weakened their influence now barely goes beyond their borders. Now is time for the fledgling Kingdom of Byzantium to look beyond its own borders. King Alexios sends a summons to his council, his closest advisors wait for him in the throne room. Cicero, the King's chancellor steps forward “Your majesty we’ve received trade offers from The Despotate of Tarentum, Macedon, Epirus, Egypt, and the Avar tribe.” “Accept them all, if we are to expand our Kingdom we must first expand our trade,” Alexios nods toward Cicero. “What about the alliance offers from Tarentum and Epirus?” “Yes your majesty, Tarentum and Epirus both have asked for a defensive alliance.” “We shall accept then, we must secure our western border if we are to expand east.” Alexios rests on his throne, scanning the men before him. “Where is my son, I asked him to attend these meetings.” “I believe Prince Justinian was within his chambers with. . . company.” Cicero shakes his head, “If the boy spent as much time learning as he did whoring he would be a great King.” Alexios let out a sigh, “Agreed, maybe a term of service in the army will set him straight.” Alexios motions one of the generals within the room, “Marus I wish for you to take my son to our eastern provinces with you.” “Of course your majesty,” Marcus places his hand to his heart and bows. “I shall make a model soldier by the time he's returned.” Alexios nods toward Marcus, “That is all then, Cicero I place you in charge of urban development” Alexios rises from the throne room and departs. Actions Two villages are founded utilizing excess population from the current ones ((20,000)) A port is constructed in the capital city of Constantinople ((10,000)) Roads are laid in the capital city to further support trade. (([Level 1, +2 Trade Relations] 25,000)) Another unit of Medium infantry is trained in the capital ((4,000)) Farms are built outside the capital to support the growing army ((5,000)) Total: 64,000 500 gold left

Jorenic Conclave of 1722 From within the Blessed Cathedral of Saint Rudolph, muted clamoring could be heard amongst the throng of assembled highlander clergymen. The War of the Two Emperors had taken a toll on the Haenseatic congregation, and in the aftermath, beloved Archbishop Zachery had been executed by the Imperial Crown. Graced by High Pontiff Daniel VI’s benevolence, the clergy of the Archdiocese of Jorenus had gathered together to elect their own Archbishop. Small groups of clergymen huddled together amongst themselves, debating the merits of several potential candidates, although few of these cliques managed to reach a consensus. But amongst these pockets of debate, High Pontiff Emeritus Pontian II found himself striding up to the dais, clutching artfully at his cane. After a few labored coughs into his hand, the aged ex-Pontiff managed to quiet his GODly compatriots, before beginning a small speech: “Without considering once more the circumstances of His Eminence Zachery’s tragic demise, there is no doubt that he was held in the highest esteem by every man in this room. However, in this new age of political unity under the Pax Orenia, we should start anew by electing a candidate who will ensure the unity of our congregation under the tenants of GOD and His church, and not secular whim. With this in mind, I henceforth nominate Siguard van Reza to administrate the Archdiocese of Jorenus. An able and well-regarded servant of the cloth, there is no doubt that he possesses the ability to restore the Archdiocese to its rightful status as a bastion of the faith.” Proceeding a lengthy interview of good Siguard, and heart debate amongst his countrymen, the Highlander cleric emerged triumphant, receiving a strong majority of the conclave’s approval. As a tonsured monk deftly lowered the diocesan mitre atop his visage, Siguard’s status was official: His Excellency Siguard van Reza, Archbishop of Jorenus.

o7 hope you figure out life man, I won’t forget the good times we had before all this.

“In the name of GOD shut up,” remarks Archbishop Siguard.

Cool

Marius rests easy knowing his son is safe and Renatus disbanded.

And -50 from me

Rhys smiles as his family slowly takes over Barbanov, but then realizes they are both his great great grandkids.

-1

Marius smiles the suns smile from the seven skies as he reads this

A proud Rhys smiles from the seven skies

Rhys smiles from the seven Skies as his descendants make him proud

A dead Rhys nods in agreement

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

Marius smiles the suns smile from the seven skies

Andrew makes a note to evict the place

void

Marius nods

Marius shakes his head from the seven skies

A CROW’S FALL The King’s health had been deteriorating for some months now. The many stresses from running his Kingdom had begun to take a toll on the aging man, much like what had happened to his father King Robert, and his father before him, King Sigmar. There was so much to worry about: the war, his children, his legacy, had he done well? Had he proved himself worthy as King? These questions continuously plagued his mind as he walked through the palace of Reza; leaving them unanswered had nearly driven him to the point of madness. It was these thoughts on the King’s mind on that fateful day; his mind focused elsewhere as he walked alone into the gardens of the palace. Just as soon as he had set foot into the tranquil courtyard, a bolt struck him in his leg, bringing him to the ground. Marius cried out in pain, but no help would come to the royal crow. Another bolt flew through the air, this one cutting into Marius’s chest and laying him flat on his back. As the King lay gasping for breath, a figure approached his body. Marius’s assassin, a man he had assumed he could trust, Hektor Barrow came into the King’s view to admire his handiwork. Two of the King’s cousins rushed into the gardens then, Prince Otto and Prince Godfric, swords in hand as they fought the Barrow. The screams as the wild man Barrow bit the Prince’s ear off, and the clang of metal on metal were all that Marius heard as he closed his eyes, and the eternal darkness of death overtook him. On the body of Marius was found a letter he had written in preparation for the coming battle, it was addressed to his son and heir Andrik. “My son, the day you were born I knew what kind of man you would grow up to be. I’ve watched with pride as you’ve grown into a strong young prince who will one day lead his people. Remember our House has always ruled with strength and wisdom. Wisdom to know what is best for our Kingdom, and people but the strength to stand against tyranny and darkness even if we stand alone. For Haense is a history of standing alone, against our enemies, against those who would see our Kingdom burn. Where our allies have broken, and scattered we’ve persisted. For if we do not persist we would perish. I write this letter, knowing I march to war. While I know GOD will not let the tyranny of Renatus persist, I fear I may not live to see the day Renatus is brought to its knees. It will be a great burden to lay on you, at such a young age. But, I know your councilors will lead you on a righteous path. I’ve made many mistakes in my life that I regret, I stood aside and let Renatus butcher and burn Ves. I’ve let others march and die to war in my name, but no more. I can’t repay the debt to life I owe Ves nor Haense, but perhaps I can fight to make a better world one rid of this blood and violence. I will stand alongside those who I once turned my back on, I will fight under the banner of Oren not for myself, but for you, my son. I must fight, we must fight this war in hopes of preserving future generations. My son, I know you’ll grow to be better than I was. You’ll lead our Kingdom in troubling times, which means you must remain strong and steadfast for our people. The times will test the very strength of your will, but know that the spirit of the Highlander people and those who have donned the crown before shall strengthen your resolve to lead our kingdom to prosperity. With GOD as your witness, the North shall stand strong and resolute, united in the cause for justice and honor. May these words echo in your mind and resonate with you as the mantle of leadership is entrusted to you until death relieves you of your mandate.” Long live the King.

Royal Writ of Ennoblement, 1719 Issued and Confirmed by His Royal Majesty, the King of Hanseti-Ruska Marius II Demetrius, VA BIRODEO HERZENAV AG EDLERVIK, Under the Majesty and Grace of GOD, The Royal Throne rewards the service of our leal subject, Lerald Vyronov, with titular enfeoffment to the County of Graiswald. They and their legitimate issue are enjoined to maintain the law of Our realm, to abide peacefully by Our rule, and to rise to Our defense when necessary. IV JOVEO MAAN, His Royal Majesty, King Marius II 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

King Marius sits in his chamber as he reads the letter, as he finished he’d lay it down on the desk. His eyes dart to the sword resting by his bed which hasn’t seen combat since the battle of Upper Rodenburg. “I won’t let your death be in vain my friend,” Marius grabs the swords handle taking a moment to look at the two headed Crow on the pommel. “I’ll be with you soon. . .” Marius mutters to himself before departing the chambers leaving the letter on his desk.

“I’m faltered you think there’s that many of us,” Says a random Oren soldier

Admonishing the Gryphon Issued and Confirmed by His Majesty King Marius II of Hanseti-Ruska 7th of Sigismund’s End, 1717 Va Birodeo Herzenav e Edlervik, I publish this missive with great disappointment at the actions of Varon of House Kovachev, in whose ill will has forsaken his ancestral titles on his own right and therefore has shamed the great House that has stood for hundreds of years with our brethren. He audaciously declares us a treasonous state who has broken the oaths of fealty and loyalty to an Emperor that has no claim to the Empire of Man nor to any Imperial authority under the eyes of GOD. I have been branded a “false-king” if I continue to fight in the name of Northern sovereignty and human unity, and yet Varon, who abandoned his homeland, without word or trace of his whereabouts, continues to perpetuate the conduct that he has so condemned upon me. His judgment is impaired by his avarice, seeking to be restored the titles and honor befitting of the Duke of Carnatia when it is upon him who had lost the confidence of his peers and the people of the North to maintain such a claim. It is he who abandoned the sacred trust bestowed upon him to rule as Duke of Carnatia, an ancient and valuable name in our realm. It is he who brings shame to his House for committing treason with his own pen, turning centuries old kinship in the spirit of Carrion to back the one who wishes ill will upon our people. It is he who is to blame for the downfall of his family, for allowing the stones of Carnatia to crumble and the leaves of its family tree to wither without bearing fruit. It is he who is to account for not attending a sitting of the Royal Duma, to meet with the House of Lords and contribute to the spirited debate and legislation of our kingdom. It is in his own right to declare his dismay and opinion of the war in the Royal Duma, yet he has chosen the most drastic option possible. No sir, the accountability rests with no man but to you. Let is be known that in the sight of my court and to the Seven Skies that Varon of House Kovachev returned within the last saint’s day, appearing before my assemblies in the Prikaz Palace. He removed his helmet and revealed his countenance before his peers. We exchanged pleasantries and discussed the nature of his departure from our lands. We received no letter, no indication of his whereabouts. I thusly offered to return the honors of House Kovachev should he reaffirm his fealty and prove to the realm his worth once more. I asked for nothing short of what is befitting a noble, let alone the honor of Ducal title. What saddens me is the ancestral betrayal that Varon has committed, for his words insult the patriotic zeal that his predecessors have sacrificed and devoted in the interests of the Highlanders: He betrays the memory of Jan Kovachev, Duke of Carnatia, a patriot against humanity’s enemies in the Riga War and those who wish to see harm done upon the holy Faith. He betrays the memory Sergei Kovachev, Duke of Carnatia, a patriot whose efforts were dedicated to the protection and defense of Northern Unity during the Deep Cold Uprising. He betrays the memory of Sergei II, Duke of Carnatia, a patriot who devoted his house’s oath to fight all who wish harm upon the people during the Great Northern War. He betrays the memory of Andrei Kovachev, a patriot during the Great Northern War and a defender of Haeseni sovereignty. He betrays the memory Ser Viktor Kovachev, a sworn Knight of the Golden Crow who vowed to protect the House of Barbanov with his life. He betrays the memory of my father, His Late Majesty, King Robert, in whose name he dared uttered and spoke with reverence at court. Would he not be ashamed of the detriment you have wrought onto your name and to the people in whose trust you were confided by my father to protect this realm? Where shall the histories of humanity place Varon, a man who returns without a trace to our lands, demanding his titles to be restored, meriting no honors and refusing to prove his worth once more only to defect because of his selfish desires of a responsibility he abandoned? If anything is a failed endeavor, it is your actions. You cost the very nature of the integrity that your name affords for political expediency. Let GOD be our judgment and witness to these words, you who sow the dissent of the North by insulting the very name you deign to carry. Signed, His ROYAL MAJESTY, King Marius II 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

Marius smiles as he reads the poem, just as he sends off his own.