Rome AARisen - a Byzantine AAR

[FlyingDutchie]

My take on the emperors as gamers:

Demetrios: normally 'too cool' to be seen playing games, but not above playing sportsgames like Fifa or PES or beat-em-ups with friends.

Nikolaios: Snobbish gamer, will rave on and on about some 'forgotten jewel' nobody else ever heard about.

Manuel: If he plays a game, he plays to win. Not above cheating/jusing gamey tactics. Enjoys humiliating his opponent. Not sure what his favorite genre would be.

Basil: Would enjoy a good RTS. Would be king of Total War series.

Thomas I: Probably plays beat-em-ups. Would probably accuse opponent of cheating is he loses.

Thomas II: Games like World of Warcraft are invented for him. Would have multiple accounts.

[General_BT]

I'm definitely going to be keeping these suggestions in mind. Please keep them coming! I'll start the preplanning for a gamers update soon!

In the meantime, here's your next update! Enjoy!

“We are all chess pieces in a great game. What matters is if you know what piece you are, and how to best fulfill your role.” – Nikolaios Komnenos, Advice to the Prince

July 11th, 1238

Albrecht von Franken sighed, and brushed sand off the top of the papers now scattered about his desk. A great sandstorm the day before had blown from the north into Antioch, covering the whole of the city in a fresh layer of sandy grit, fine grains pushing their way through the firmest of closed windows and doors. Outside the hustle and bustle of the city went on, renewed by the now blazing sunlight of a summer day, yet the trundle of carts and braying of mules seemed to echo louder than anything else from the streets below.

Von Franken slowly rose, and walked across marble floors towards the window of his temporary home in the immense Antioch Palace, home of the Komnenids of House Antioch since the days of Theodoros Komnenos, father-in-law to the Megaloprepis. Prince Michael, current patriarch of the family, had been more than happy to open the doors of his palace to the Megoskyriomachos and, more importantly, Prince Thomas. Then again, Prince Michael could have been persuaded by anyone to do almost anything. Rich as Croesus to boot, he was proving immensely useful for Albrecht to keep under a thumb—his home provided suitably palatial and secure houses for both Great Lord and Prince, and his money allowed Albrecht to maintain a formidable network of informants, guards, and agents to protect him and the Prince in their temporary home.

Albrecht clasped his hands behind his body and sighed as the hot afternoon air filtered into the windows of Prince Michael’s palatial home. Below, his eyes caught sight of all the vistas a vibrant eastern city could offer—traders from across the Levant hawking their wares, a gaggle of priests trundling through the city on a pilgrimage, a contingent of soldiers changing the guard in the plaza square before the palace. Yet the single largest thing that drew his attention was the sea of people, carts, mules and possessions flowing through the crowds, an enormous snake of humanity making its way towards the great docks on the Orontes.

Refugees from war could serve as a potential source of strength or danger for the Empire. While many refugee groups, such as Anglo-Saxons in the wake of the Norman conquest, grew to serve Roman emperors well, others became sources of instability, or even threats to the state. The Goths, for example, originally entered Roman borders in the 4th century as refugees from the pressing Huns.

They were from the Arachosia—Merv, Heart, Balkh, the great trading cities of the Silk Road—joined by frightened people from the edges of Persia—Mashaad, Bam, Baluchistan and Khorasan. The Mongols had been unable to dislodge the stubborn self-proclaimed “Sultans of Khwarezm” in the Oxus Valley, so their wrath was poured on the poorer, more independent cities further south. If the rumors these refugees spoke were to be believed, Merv had been burnt to the ground, while Hulagu had ordered every male above the age of 16 in Balkh to be castrated, blinded, and cast into the desert.

While the Romans had checked the Mongol at Rayy, that had done little for the peoples outside the borders of Roman Persia. Many, before the Mongol menace could make itself known, had decided to flee—some went north to the protection of the upstart Khwarezmanians, but many saw that state as little more than a bump in the path of the Mongol beast. So, many others—Albrecht’s personal reports estimated perhaps 40,000 or more—had flooded west, across Persia, and into the one bulwark that had apparently withstood the Mongol onslaught—Romanion.

Albrecht shuddered to think what would’ve happened if such a great wave of humanity had crashed over the Empire if things had not been fortuitous. Thanks to the Persian uprisings, the Imperial tagmata were still garrisoned around the country in force, and Thomas Dadiani, in particular and without standing orders from Konstantinopolis, had been instrumental in persuading the refugees to move on, rather than settle in the region. Successive strategoi had followed his lead, ushering the thousands into the well-funded, well armed hands of Edessa and Antioch, and from thence to chartered ships. The whole process had been orderly and well-maintained after the first commanders in Persia realized the full extent of the problem. If the tagmata had not been in place, if the problem hadn’t been steered towards themes able to deal with it, Persia and the MidEast would have likely had a slew of potentates, kingdoms and warlords running amok.

As it was, Albrecht was impressed by the ability of the Muslims of the Empire to improvise and organize. The ships that waited in Alexandria were chartered by the imams of Egypt, with more than a little prodding from Prince Adrianos, Prince Michael, and Prince Theodoros. Michael and Adrianos wanted the refugees to have a sure destination off of their lands, and Theodoros’ coasts were still depopulated from the Great Flood Tide. For the Muslims of the East it worked as well—all of the refugees were Shi’a, avoiding the great Shi’a-Sunni divide. Yet, ingeniously, Albrecht thought, the chances of the newcomers and the present remaining Muslims truly uniting were not that great. Von Franken wasn’t well versed in the differences between Ismailis and Nizaris, but the rift had potential to be exploited by even someone as daft as Prince Theodoros.

The Ismaili lion. Ismailis are an offshoot of traditional Shi’a Islam, believing that Is’mail ibn Ja’far was the spiritual successor to the Imams of Shi’a Islam. The Ismaili’s succeeded in establishing their own state with the Fatimid Caliphate, but a disputed succession in the 11th century resulted in a splinter group, the Nizaris, espousing their own creed and claiming tie Ismailis were wrongly guided. The two groups, despite both sharing common religious roots, have had a fractious relationship ever since.

Albrecht von Franken was a realist, in the best sense of the word. Egypt would be repopulated with artisans and skilled labor, while Muslim unity, a quickly rising threat in volatile Egypt, would be keenly disrupted. As he watched the carts, donkeys, and horses loaded down with the possessions of a destitute mob, he saw an opportunity, if only the Empire could take advantage of it.

Civil war was on the horizon—that was of no doubt. That would mean thousands of men raised across the Empire for war, and almost as dangerous as the war itself was the demobilization of hordes of young men with few prospects or skills other than fighting. The cities and towns of eastern Persia needed repopulating after their denizens fled. The borders of eastern Persia needed garrisoning. The solution to von Franken seemed obvious—promise the soldiers that fought under the loyalist banner lands in the far east. Even a common peasant would recognize that while silver could be used but once, lands would generate silver for a lifetime. It would give Albrecht’s party a chance to…

A series of soft raps echoed from the large wooden door to the Megoskyriomachos’ chambers. Albrecht hastily rose, brushed down his robes, and walked towards the noise. He hadn’t expected his guest this early, but no matter. The business of the assassin almost always came first.

==========*=========

Eleutherios Skleros blinked when the door to the Megoskyriomachos’ changes came open. The room was not as well apportioned as the usual chambers where Skleros met Albrecht von Franken, but that was to be expected. Those chambers had been in the Blacharenae in Konstantinopolis. Here, von Franken was in exile—a luxurious, planned and hopefully temporary exile, but an exile nonetheless.

“My Lord,” Eleutherios bowed. The fine silk raiment that covered his body still seemed odd. It was part of his official cover as being one Demetrios Zarides, wealthy Thessalonikan merchant, but Bardas had never allowed him to adopt such…expensive… alternate identities as his cover.

“Demetrios, please come in,” Albrecht followed the standard line, allowing Eleutherios into the room before closing the door behind him, assuring privacy. When it was shut, with a clunk, Eleutherios finally allowed himself a smile.

“You are looking well, for being ‘forcibly removed,’” Skleros grinned. “Your decorator here seems to like things a little more spartan than your apartments in the capital,” he observed with fake decorum, “but I do approve of the statues, as well as the marble floor…”

“And you sure are obtuse for someone who is officially missing in Konstantinopolis!” Albrecht smiled broadly in return. “Would you like to see the view? It more than makes up for the lack of ornate decoration here…”

“I think I shall!” Skleros grinned, walking towards the great windows that streamed light into the room. Outside, the view was indeed magnificent—some forty feet above the streets below, with sunlight streaming in from the West and a smudge of blue on the horizon denoting the distant Mediterranean.

“It’d almost be perfect,” Albrecht said quietly, and Skleros heard a familiar tone of worry seeping into the Megoskyriomachos’ voice. Eleutherios didn’t need to think too long to guess what about the view worried von Franken.

“Them?” Eleutherios nodded to the mass of people streaming through the markets towards the docks. They’d snarled up all the eastern entrances into the city, clogged the streets, and in general made Skleros’ journey to Michael’s Palace a general pain.

“Yes,” von Franken nodded.

“Who among them worries you?” Eleutherios muttered. The mass of humanity moving towards the shore seemed intimidating in its numbers mainly. With that many refugees, there were bound to be a goodly number who knew how to use a sword and desperate enough to use it to earn food or coin, yet amongst them, he’d not heard a single name of a single person that seemed potentially unifying. Other than the usual thievery and occasional banditry, the teeming mass had done little.

“The Hashashin,” Albtecht said simply.

The traditional Christian view of the Hashashin. The Hashashin actually began as a underground Nizari sect cast out from Fatimid Egypt. Without the protection of a powerful state, their leader, Hassan ibn Sabah, developed assassination and intimidation as tools to maintain the security and independence of his sect in the face of more powerful foes. However, these tactics proved useless against the intractable Mongols, and now many hashashin Nizaris are among the refugees fleeing to Roman Egypt.

“The Assassins?” Eleutherios nodded in understanding. He’d heard of them—the Romans had tangled with them before, and the sect had almost ended the life of the Megas almost a century and a half before. “I should have them tailed, if you wish. If any of them start making deals or moves towards Imperial legates…”

“Actually,” Albrecht said, finally looking back at Skleros with only the slightest of smiles, “that’s not what I’m worried the most about. We have our own assassins, and while they have boldness, we have centuries of practice on them.”

Eleutherios nodded and smiled himself at the sideways compliment.

“But,” Albrecht sighed, turning back to the window, “assassination was never the goal of the hashashin. Their goal has always been to build a Nizari utopia, and assassination and intimidation were only their tools to this goal. They might not be as well known as some of the imams and mullahs in that rabble,” Albrecht’s eyes flashed back up to Eleutherios, now deadly serious, “but they are the most organized by far. They’ve functioned for centuries in underground organized cells. If they decide they do not like the current imperial arrangement—and it’s only a matter of time before they do—they will be hard as hell to root out!” The Megoskyriomachos sighed, his shoulders heaving as if he was shrugging off a great burden. “However, that problem isn’t the reason I called you here. Come,” he gestured to the table in the middle of the room. “So, what of Konstantinopolis?”

“Antemios has declared, full week after I returned to the capital,” Eleutherios sat down, sinking into the soft velvet backing and sighing with a smile. To his road-weary bones it felt like the loveliest massage.

“Wine?” von Franken asked, setting a jug on the table with a thump.

“Yes please,” Eleutherios nodded without question. His throat was as parched as the Sahara, and he eagerly took the goblet when offered. Suddenly, Skleros smirked slightly. “You don’t have any salt do you?”

Albrecht frowned for a moment, before chuckling darkly. “What, me poison you? I am shocked!” he said, his falsely grave face breaking into laughter.

“Hurry it up! Fine!” Eleutherios laughed himself, grabbed the jug, and filled his goblet, then filled Albrecht’s. “Need some poor assassin to show you how to fill a goblet!”

There were many in the Empire that would’ve been shocked that someone as baseborn as Eleutherios would dare to address the Megoskyriomachos (and a Megoskyriomachos of imperial blood at that) in such a familiar manner. Truth be told, Eleutherios wasn’t sure what von Franken saw in him, just like he wasn’t sure what Lainez had seen in him either. He was born the son of a disgraced minor lady, his mother disowned by her family for her premarital transgression. He’d never met his father. Why he had the attentions of Mehtar Lainez was more easily explained than why Lainez’s successor, obviously only interested in women, would take him under-wing as well, especially so soon after Lainez’s final demise. Though, while von Franken knew of Skleros’ involvement in a multitude of dark deeds, he still didn’t know about that particular one…

“So Bardas finally did it?” Albrecht said, sipping on his wine as they returned to topic. “Took him long enough. A full week after you returned to Konstantinopolis?”

“He needed time to bring round a few more of the Patriarch’s aides,” Eleutherios gulped down a swig of wine. “It appears old Simon had cold feet performing one of his most solemn duties. It seems no one expected Emperor Thomas to fall so quickly, and Simon sincerely expected foul play…”

“Of course he did,” Albrecht said quietly, with only the barest hint of a smile only those who know far more than they should could give. “Simon is far more intelligent than he lets on. He knows what his coronation of Antemios would create, and he’s not sure he’ll get the reward he’s been promised.”

“Bardas does have a bad habit of not keeping his word,” Eleutherios said with only a hint of sourness.

“To the tune of 10,000 silver solidii,” Albrecht said what wasn’t necessary to say, and Eleutherios nodded. “Unlike some, I pay my retainers on time, and in full.”

“Sometimes extra,” Eleutherios added as he finished his goblet with a smile. “A fact this retainer appreciates to the fullest possible extent!” The assassin reached over, and poured another bumper goblet. “So, if I may ask, what comes now? Or would that be revealing too much of your web of plans to me, a lowly instrument?”

“We wait,” Albrecht said serenely, still sipping on his first cup. “Or rather, I wait. You have a duty, but it’s not related to…”

“You’re going to simply wait?” Eleutherios cut off Albrecht without fear. “But Gabriel is moving north at speed! He’s likely heard of Antemios’ declaration, and he’s probably moving north with an army for the capital even as we speak…”

“Speed has always been Gabriel’s hallmark,” Albrecht nodded. “When the Prince invaded Algeria, he did so at the head of a small, but fast army. When he invaded Persia, he did the same—so now he leaps north with a small but fast army of… what? 20,000, twenty-five at most?”

“Basilikon Toxotai and Hetaratoi are his core. Prince Simon of Galilee has given him 2,500 units of militia, the Prince of Ascalon sent a tagma’s worth of Muslim troublemakers with him, Tyre sent archers and cavalry,” Eleutherios rattled out the numbers. Albrecht hadn’t given him the information, but the spy had ferreted out guesstimates anyway through his travels. One could never know when such information could come in handy. “It’s not large, that’s true. Especially compared to Bardas’s Italian thematakoi… I assume you have…”

Gabriel Komnenos had always been a proponent of rapid marches. While the army he brings north from the Hejaz is small—25,000 against at least 65,000 if Bardas Komnenos puts his supporters fully in the field, it is disciplined and well trained.

“61,315,” Albrecht nodded, “Thank you, however.”

“Ah. Well,” Eleutherios shrugged, “I’d always assumed that Gabriel would seek your counsel and aid and copious coffers of Antioch and Edessa. I know you have him don’t see eye to eye, but your help…”

“My help?” Albrecht snorted slightly. The noise surprised Eleutherios—he’d never seen the normally urbane von Franken make such an uncouth noise. “Ha! That boy wouldn’t trust me if the Archangel that bears his name told him to! No, he won’t seek my help, or the help of anyone, unless he’s compelled. He’s a stubborn one, like his father was…”

“Ah… so that’s Bardas’ purpose?” Eleutherios smiled slightly. Even now, Skleros was surprised by the quiet viciousness that hid behind von Franken’s placid brown eyes. The man calmly talked to the murderer of his best friend as if he was addressing a valuable business partner. Eleutherios had heard of cold vengeance, but the calmness Albrecht gave off was more than a little offputting, even to the assassin. “Smash up Gabriel, and compel him to come to you and the Princes on his hands and knees?” Eleutherios’ smile changed to a smirk. “And what if Bardas kills him in the battle?” Eleutherios asked, arching an eyebrow. “Even gods of war can be felled with an unlucky blow. What then?”

“Then, my friend,” Albrecht leaned back, “we have a martyr to rally the East of the Empire behind in the name of another.”

“You mean the Muslims?” Eleutherios asked.

“If needbe, yes,” Albrecht nodded, sipping more out of his goblet. “Bardas has uttered more than enough anti-Muslim epithets that things could easily be cast as a fight between a benign regime or a persecuting Antemios. Now, believe me, that would the last resort, but I would rather give concessions to heathens than hang from a giblet.”

“You, me, and the other princes in this little cabal, I assume,” Eleutherios nodded. “But back to Gabriel…”

“He needs Anatolia,” Albrecht said simply, “and he cannot get Anatolia without Adrianos and Michael—not without their armies, their connections, and most importantly, their coin. And as Michael follows my and Adrianos’ advice like a mangy cur follows its master…”

“So what is Adrianos’ price?” Eleutherios asked, leaning back after finishing his second cup. The wine was already pleasantly going to his head—a luxury he rarely allowed himself. “For an imperial diadem, I’m assuming the man wants the sun and the moon.”

“Piddling things, really. He wants his son Alexios to be raised to King of Mesopotamia, and he wants Thomas named co-Emperor with Gabriel,” Albrecht shrugged. “The former is something that needed to be done anyhow—Mespotamia and Persia are too large to be effectively governed by an Emperor in Konstantinopolis that needs to also watch the transPontic coast, Egypt, North Africa, Sicily and Italy. In fact, someone needs to take Persia at least partially off of Konstantinopolis’ hands as well. As for Thomas,” Albrecht’s grave face finally revealed the slightest hint of a smile, “That’s just common sense.”

Albrecht von Franken was among the first to realize the difficulty Romanion would have properly administering Mesopotamia and Persia for an extended period of time. The Imperial tagmata, which would have traditionally decided the succession, are instead spread all across Persia holding the region together for distant Konstantinopolis. While the fate of Imperial Persia is as of yet undecided, Mesopotamia, as delineated by Adrianos in his negotiations with Albrecht, would also include Baghdad, which prior to this had been seen as a potential future Eastern capital for the Empire. What remains to be seen is if the proposed 'Kingdom' of Mesopotamia would be wholly independent, an Exarchate-type unit, or a complete dependency on Konstantinopolis.

“Thomas? Thomas!?” Eleutherios started to giggle.

“Yes, Thomas.”

“He couldn’t rule the Empire! He couldn’t…” the spies giggles slowly died as he took in the serious look on Albrecht’s face. For a moment Eleutherios was confused, before suddenly it came to him in a torrent.

“You intend to rule the Empire through Thomas,” Skleros said slowly.

Albrecht’s smile was serene, yet had the innocence of a brazen brothel whore. “The princes of Anatolia are staunchly opposed to Gabriel. They fear he’s too...close…to the heathen. Thomas was hand educated by the Patriarch of Konstantinopolis. His presence with a diadem would do much to assure the Anatolians that their Empire isn’t about to abandon the cross for the crescent.”

Eleutherios smirked as he nodded. The argument was sound and logical, the perfect cover for some darker design. Albrecht too had learned statecraft at the knee of the original spider, and he had years of experience on Eleutherios.

“And what if Gabriel pulls off a miracle and defeats Bardas without your help?”

“That situation can be handled,” Albrecht folded his hands, the smile still fixed in place though annoyance shone through his teeth. “If he doesn’t have Anatolia, its only a matter of time before its lords rise again, a rebellion that will likely receive the backing of Adrianos and Michael if young Thomas is placed at its figurehead.”

“Ah, so you think you have him by the hip either way,” Skleros chuckled, pouring a third goblet for himself. “Maybe that’d be better for you, because even if it all works as you envision,” Eleutherios muttered, “Gabriel will still be the co-Emperor. Unless you plan on killing your own nephew, he’s not going to let you just rule things through his brother! He’d sooner die than let that happen!”

“Oh, I don’t think an assassination, or even tonsuring and blinding is necessary. He will have his uses, alive.” Albrecht’s serene smile was still there, as sharp as the sand that rasped against the Pyramids of Giza. Then, suddenly, as if a cold night had washed over those ancient ruins, Albrecht’s smile disappeared. “Now, what I need you to do is to travel to Baghdad. You’ll meet with one Frederica von Hohenstaufen, who’s currently bemoaning her fate, sleeping with commanders and in general causing a commotion.”

Our favorite German princes…

Eleutherios nodded, his mind going into action, thinking of ingress, egress and methods. “I’ve heard of her. She likes grappa, so I’ll use some wolfsbane and grendelwood to…”

To Skleros’ surprise, Albrecht vigorously shook his head no. “No, you’ll be conveying a message to her. Tell her to proceed at all speed to Antioch, with appropriate retainers for a wedding. She is to be betrothed to Prince Thomas as soon as possible, with her father’s approval, et cetera.”

“Does Thomas know of the arrangement?” Skleros raised his eyebrow yet again. The reason for such a move was obvious—a marriage with Thomas would tie the Imperial family, once again, with the Arpad dynasty of the West. It’d secure the Italian and Balkan flanks of the Empire, and conveniently for one Albrecht von Franken counterbalance the diplomatic stain his presence in Konstantinopolis had on East-West relations.

“Of course not!” Albrecht’s smile returned, with a slight snicker. “And that’s why Patriarch Georgios and I will have a talk with him, explain to him that marriage is a godly duty, and marriages of state are all but required for someone related to the Vice Gerent of Christ…”

==========*==========

So how will Gabriel fare in his clash? Are Albrecht’s calculations of future events accurate? A clash of arms, when Rome AARisen continues!

[AlexanderPrimus]

Ah, Frederica von Hohenstaufen, the most popular character I ever created!

I must admit that your interpretation of her may even be more compelling than the original. Your version is much more subtle than mine, yet she still retains her... shall we say "single-mindedness?"

Regardless, I can't express to you how pleased I am that she's found a good place in your story. She just adds a certain something...

[Nikolai]

Well, this was a new side of Albrecht. Still, he's better at diplomacy than intrigue, but with Eleutherios presumably at his side...

[Issac Wolfe]

It was like watching an epic intrigue movie. Awesome.

[Kirsch27]

That damnable assassin is back again, and he decided to switch his allegiance AGAIN! Why any of them trust him for a moment I don't know. He murdered Mehtar, he murdered Thomas, now he's betrayed Bardas, seems a bit off to trust him to pour your wine, now doesn't it?

[Enewald]

Vice Gerent?
Oh dear, so many new Imperial tittles created by the Komnenoi.

If all the imperial bureaucrats fear poisoned wine, why do they not drink water?

Poor Thomas!

And yet another civil war.

And how can you just split your Empire into parts! Persia has always been a thorn for Rhomaion! An eternal champion of the east versus west!

And Mesopotamia!
That ought to be just an theme!

[Qorten]

Again a most ingenious plan has grown in your mind, BT. I like it, it makes a lot of sense. No one better then Albrecht indeed to keep Romanion stable. And meanwhile I have my favorite character as co-Emperor. What more could I wish for!

[Fulcrumvale]

Playing the Shia and Sunni against each other in Egypt probably sounded like a really good Idea at the time. I wonder if anyone will still be alive to appreciate the enormity of the blowback that this will result in when the Aionites arrive on the scene?

[Servius Magnus]

So, Albrecht murdered Thomas, wont hesitate to murder Gabriel and wants to retain effective control of the empire. i cant wait for the day this character meets the hangman.

[Ksim3000]

An interesting update BT and I must say, Albrecht is indeed becoming a "villain" in his own right. Its interesting how his character has changed over the last 40 years. Gone are the innocence of youth and with it, a new darkness is beginning to grow from within.

I am surprised that Albrecht had Thomas II killed in all fairness and at how easily he works side by side with Eleutherios. It'll be interesting on what Albrecht's "fate" ultimately will be....

Anyway, good update as usual! Looking forward to more.

[asd21593]

Another great, intriguing update!

It seems that in the map, that Arabia controls the Holy Land. I'm assuming that's just a mistake though

[Hawkeye1489]

Vice Gerent?
Oh dear, so many new Imperial tittles created by the Komnenoi.

The Vice-Gerent of Christ has been an older title of the Eastern Empire. It wasn't until the fall of Constantinople that the Pope in the west adopt the title Vicar of Christ, out of difference to the Emperor. And I gotta say, I like Albrecht (Albertios? ) who will do the Empire good working behind Thomas' throne. I hate to say it, but I think I now support an Emperor Thomas III.

[Nikolai]

I support any Komnenos Albrecht support. He's my favourite non-Komnenos by far.

[humancalculator]

Although Albrecht is turning into some sort of villain, i at least think that he would be a very able ruler behind the throne and an able administrator who would help keep the Empire together.

Although he seems very cunning in a bad way and sort of a bad person, i think it would be a good thing for Romanion in the long run if he was de facto in charge of the entire Empire.

[Nikolai]

I don't think we know that Albrecht is behind Thomas II's demise btw, we're told he knows much, but as I understand it, Eleutherios was in Bardas' employ at the time?

[humancalculator]

I don't think we know that Albrecht is behind Thomas II's demise btw, we're told he knows much, but as I understand it, Eleutherios was in Bardas' employ at the time?

Albrecht still seems a bit sketchy, and he is crafty enough that he most likely knew what was coming down before it happened anyways and did little to nothing about it because it probably fits into his own schemes.

[Hannibal X]

Let Gabriel go Aionite and have the North African breadbasket and Sicily- he will be heir of Hannibal, thorn in the side of Rome (at least the Levant). Then he can inherit Arabia.

I say let Antemios rot unto death, for he is a bloody drunk. Let TIII take Anatolia and the Balkans, while Edessa takes Persia and Mesopotamia- one never said whether they rose in Romanion or not. If they do rise, let the heirs of Manuel (Leonids) own Italy, and Machiavelli can have the perfect rulers for which to base his opus. I still like Albrecht- far more likeable than Bernard von Baden or Mehtar the empire-ruining catamine Iberian Muslim.

Furthermore, Antemios et Mongolii Aurii esse delendam.

[FlyingDutchie]

Intruiging as always General_BT. Like the mew side of Albrecht von Franken. He has always acted in the interest of the empire, but now he has the potential to become a Shakespearan villain. Opposing an emperor for the sake of his beloved empire, only time will tell is his views are right or wrong. Curious which emperors he will oppose...

[armonistan]

I live for this AAR, if was discontinued I think I would start cutting my wrists (again )
I LOVE the character depth and new views BT presents like von Franken.


Thanks for the AAR Bt