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Lotharingia -- A tale of resurrection

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Snugglie said:
And don't be so harsh on yourself, as long as you think it is fun writing, you should. ;) And as I've said, we have all been newcomers at some point. :D
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Yes thats true. Tremedous self criticism is starting to take control of me. :p

How did you gave up a title to your neighbour? Is it all end now? :(
 
Auray said:
Yes thats true. Tremedous self criticism is starting to take control of me. :p

How did you gave up a title to your neighbour? Is it all end now? :(
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Tsk tsk tsk, what are you all thinking of me! ;) See my above post, I have far from lost. No, unless it is expressively said, this one will not see an end due to ineptness at gameplay.
 
Snugglie said:
Tsk tsk tsk, what are you all thinking of me! ;) See my above post, I have far from lost. No, unless it is expressively said, this one will not see an end due to ineptness at gameplay.
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Oh, I see. I was writing my post when you answered that question. :p
 
Auray said:
Oh, I see. I was writing my post when you answered that question. :p
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Well, you learn something new every day! :D
 
There was a small issue with me moving the pictures in the last chapter, so that they could not be seen. Corrected now though.
 
swippy said:
interesting turn of events

is Dietrich's family related in any way to Godfried's?
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No, not in any way at all actually. Possibly in a long chain of marriages, by not biologically.

On a note completely unrelated to this story, I just noticed that the Swedish king has married his niece and sired three inbred children. :p
 
Kneeling should hurt. It is also the least painful part about being vassalized.

I hear you on the dynasty thing. Crusader Kings is easy after the first duchy or two. It's sometimes fun to break things - or to never build up so big that breaking becomes necessary. At the same time, it can also be fun to build logically. My de Hauteville Roman Emperor fought for stability, his son Bohemond fought for Palestine and Egypt, and his son Geoffrey fought for Italy. In each case, these were logical expansions of the Roman Empire. I've studiously ignored Russia, Hungary, and so on. It's fun, and that's what makes Crusader Kings fun - setting your own victory conditions. Lord knows that the game's built-in ones are fecked.
 
And so ends the legacy of D'Ardennes, it's now the time of Dietrich, looking forward to the next chapter.
 
phargle said:
Kneeling should hurt. It is also the least painful part about being vassalized.

I hear you on the dynasty thing. Crusader Kings is easy after the first duchy or two. It's sometimes fun to break things - or to never build up so big that breaking becomes necessary. At the same time, it can also be fun to build logically. My de Hauteville Roman Emperor fought for stability, his son Bohemond fought for Palestine and Egypt, and his son Geoffrey fought for Italy. In each case, these were logical expansions of the Roman Empire. I've studiously ignored Russia, Hungary, and so on. It's fun, and that's what makes Crusader Kings fun - setting your own victory conditions. Lord knows that the game's built-in ones are fecked.
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Winning in Crusader Kings is, sadly, not that hard. I've never once even been close to loosing.

And yes, kneeling hurts. Especially if you've got a crooked back, and are a hunchback. ;)
Capibara said:
And so ends the legacy of D'Ardennes, it's now the time of Dietrich, looking forward to the next chapter.
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Indeed, and the world is about to run out of people of the dynasty d'Ardennes, as you will notice in the next chapter.
 
Sematary said:
Its sad to see them go but if they must they must.
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As stated, Godfried was never meant to rule a duchy -- he is a silent visionary. Dietrich's capability to fulfill the mission he is given is questionable, but in Godfried's mind, Dietrich has at least got a few sons ready to take over if needed.
 
I fear that greed blinds Dietrich and he forgots the noble attempt to re-create the kingdom of Lotharingia. :(
 
Auray said:
I fear that greed blinds Dietrich and he forgots the noble attempt to re-create the kingdom of Lotharingia. :(
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Well, at least for a while longer he will have Godfried around to remind him of it. ;)
 
Chapter XXII

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Kopf des Löwes was crowded when night was falling in Frankfurt and everyone from toiling merchants to garrison soldiers came for an evening ale to flush away some of the grime that a hard day’s work gives. Berthold, the owner of the old pub, was busy as usual with yelling at various barmaids that failed to serve the patrons in time, and the places not occupied were possible to count on the fingers of a hand lacking one finger. For some people the lack of space did not constitute a proper problem; as the city from which Emperor Martin reigned, names and positions held great value also when gentry mixed with commoners – if a man of good birth and, the more important, in the Emperor’s favour desired a chair, a free chair would be found eventually. The same social rule applied if he had a few fellow courtiers with him; there was always some unfortunate sod that could be shooed away.

Tonight was no exception, and so Andreas von Schweinfurt had no problem finding a place for him and the three companions he had brought to the noisy ale house. There table was conveniently situated in a corner right to the left of the entrance, paradoxically meaning that they were harder to spot for anyone gazing in through the door. After a long day spent at the tourney they were all thirsty, and each of them took their time to gulp down half a pint before starting to talk.

“Garçon, more ale!” one of his companions, Emich, a slim young man from Elsass, shouted at one of the barmaids. She briskly walked over to their table and put down one pint for each of the gentlemen, before looking Emich in the eyes:

“Garçon means ‘boy’.” she said, and walked away again. A hearty round of laughter hit Emich that only grinned in response to the jeering.

“It is close enough at least, and I am not French enough to be expected to speak it perfectly.”

“You’re Lorrainese, is that not enough?” replied the third man in the party called Gerald, known for sporting a large mess of blonde hair that made him stand out like a candlelight in any gathering of dark-haired men.

“That may be, but I stem from Northern Lorraine,” Emich answered. “Old duke Godfried was more of a German than Dietrich de Lorraine, who is basically French without admitting it.”

“Really, what’s the difference?” the fourth companion, Albrecht, piped up. “We are two kingdoms almost interspersed with each other; the only real difference is the language. We eat the same things as the French and we drink the same water, and we basically fight the same enemies as well.”

They all drank to these wise words, although Emich could not agree completely with his fellow knight. “To be completely frank – do you get it, huh? ‘To be frank’, Franks, ha ha! – I don’t agree with you. I mean really, I don’t understand what they say and I don’t understand how they act.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, their king is excommunicated!” Emich laughed. “Now, Emperor Martin,” at the mention of the Emperor he lowered his voice, “is not an ideal ruler, but he is far better than a person of not even twenty years that is already labelled an enemy of the faith!”

“Amen to that.” They were too tired not to laugh at someone saying ‘amen’ about a heretic.

“I hear the Emperor is gazing westwards, actually,” Andreas said. “Adémar Capet is not capable of keeping together a nation even under ordinary conditions, and with such Papal bootlickers as Raymond Berenguié of Toulouse under his rule, he is risking rather much merely by staying alive.”

“Have you heard something in the court?”

“I have only heard loose rumours, but they were whispered to me from prominent sources,” Andreas said, intentionally vague. “France is already weak, and I hear that king Bohemond of England is throwing longing gazes over the channel as well. Normandy is rich and powerful, and a good bridgehead.”

“The Emperor would not dare,” Emich said, once again lowering his voice at the mentioning of their lord. No matter how crowded a room, and no matter how noisy, one could not be too careful. Martin had only been a young prince during the Rebellion of the Three Dukes, but the thought of someone trying, and closely enough succeeding to murder his mighty father had scarred him, and after having become Emperor himself he was ever so vigilant. “Adémar might be a young boy, and a fool at that, but he is still the king of France, and the sheer title is imposing – the Emperor does not need a costly war against an enemy that only appeared weakened what with the turmoil down south. No, there will be a war, but the Emperor will not be the aggressor.”

---​

“So remind me again, Ulrich – why am I taking advices from my little brother who is more than twenty years my minor?” Dietrich asked with the voice of a parent trying to talk sense into his child, but with the child replying the same stubborn phrase at every attempt.

“Because will it or not, your brother is the future marshal of your realm!” Ulrich exclaimed with the voice of a child convinced that this time, he would actually get the pony he had been nagging his father about.

Of the five sons of Duke Gerhard de Lorraine, Dietrich was the oldest; the second oldest was named after his father and ruled Sundgau as a count; the third was Eckhard, twenty-six years Dietrich’s junior and a warrior of reputation; the fourth was Ulrich, born a mere eleven months after Eckhard and a warrior of even greater reputation, and also a tactician in the making; the fifth was Hermann, the only brother not greatly involved, not talented in the arts of war. Hermann held a love for the dramatic parts of live, with poetry and music being his main interests. He was a young enough to be inexperienced in the ways and doings of the world, but old enough for his problems to have become fix ideas in his head.

The current marshal, the ageing Leopold de Valois, was nearing his end and of the men present in the court of the duchy it was obvious that Ulrich was the most qualified for the post of commander of the armies of Lorraine – he was intelligent, charismatic, talented both with sword and shield and was able to take good decisions also in the heat of battle. The one thing he had speaking against him was his age – he was only twenty-three and a half. By appointing him marshal, Dietrich would risk aggravating a lot of the older and more experienced militaries – needless to say, the matter tended to leave Dietrich with a headache as soon as he took the time to think about it.

“Eudes of Valois holds no warm feelings for Adémar,” Ulrich continued. “And so – oh please, just listen! – and I would not be surprised if he actually takes the decision to break free when Raymond starts banging the battle-drum down in Toulouse. So, if – scratch that – when he does that, we swiftly arm the troops and march on Hainault…”

Ulrich’s voice started to trail away as Dietrich fell asleep.

---​

“That may be, but are you sure that he would take the risk? Our Emperor might be doubtful to wage war against France, but you are saying that a mere duke would not be?” Albrecht said, doubtfully.

“Dietrich de Lorraine is no ‘mere duke’, Albrecht! He is the mightiest duke in the Empire, with a personal demesne beaten only by the Emperor’s own. The merging of the two Lorraines gave him twice the power he already had, and Godfried d’Ardennes had built up a rather neat realm.” Emich answered, and noticed that he was hungry. “Garçon! Ham!” he bellowed at the barmaid, as his companions continued the discussion.

“Indeed he did, may he rest in peace,” Gerald said and drank from his pint.

“Godfried d’Ardennes is not dead.”

“Surely, he is?”

“Indeed not,” insisted Andreas. “Old Godfried is still alive, although he is seldom seen in public. He still lives in Castle Andernach – if that can even be called a castle, rather than a house with walls – and did not move with the court to Aachen. I think the mere thought of building a new castle is disturbing to him, considering that he seemingly does not want anything to do with anyone but his books.”

“And he does that willingly?” Gerald said with a surprised look on his face. “What an odd man – as if it was not strange enough to resign, the way he did.”

“You need to remember that he is ageing, Gerald; he is over fifty years old. And considering that he is the last one of his kin in Germany, it is not surprising that he likes to stick to himself.”

“What about his eldest son then?”

“Well, he is not dead,” Emich interrupted, a smirk across his face as he chewed the ham violently. “But he is not in Germany either."

---​

Each time he felt the cold, stone floor and saw the light floating in from the small windows, Godfried felt a little appalled and surprised. The chapel was small, with benches of dark wood that held space for twenty people and a small altar at the front. The walls were whitewashed, and the window-frames of steel black. A few decades earlier few things except for divine intervention would have been able to make Godfried pray, but as he had lived winter after winter, watching the people he knew and cared about slip away one by one, he found comfort in it.

It was thirteen years since Camila had died. Some days it felt like it had passed only hours since he had woken up next to her and noticed that the comforted smile she had on her lips was terminal and that she would not move; other days it felt like decades had passed. After her death Godfried had secluded himself from the world as much as he could, and spent much time alone with Reinhardt until his death in 1099. Reinhardt had also mourned Camila, as had her two sons – Guntram and Folkhard.

Guntram was since long estranged from his parents, and the loss of his inheritance did not bother him all too much. He and Godfried had not spoken for years, save a few words at Camila’s wake, and when Dietrich’s court moved to Aachen he had followed. As a “present” – although according to sources it was because Dietrich had grown tired of the noisy pretender – at the change of centuries, Guntram had on New Year’s Eve of 1099 been granted the county of Jaffa in Outremer. He had departed with family and a few companions as soon as he could, eager not to look back.

Folkhard had taken his mother’s demise especially hard, and even though his health was restored, he had isolated himself in his room, refusing to speak with anyone. During this time-period of four months, not even his wife and his only daughter, Mathilde, were allowed to see him. In December 1093, just before the Christmas festivities, he was found by a servant, hanging from a rafter with a rope around his neck. He was buried in the chapel of Andernach, next to his mother, on Christmas day.

And thus, after the passing of Reinhardt, Godfried was one of the few residents of Andernach, where he spent his days in humility and, surprisingly for anyone that knew him twenty years earlier, theology. His friend, with whom he spent many long nights only talking, had passed away and all of his direct family was resting under the Earth. The only biological relative still in Germany was Folkhard’s daughter, Mathilde.

Godfried had taken to cherish silence and tranquillity on the eve of his days, and as he once again clasped his hands and bowed his head, he felt that in all aspects, his life was drawing to a well-deserved rest. Looking back, he realised that he had done all that could be expected of him, and more; looking forward, the prospect of once again meeting Camila, and a Folkhard rid of his demons, and the ever wine- and company-providing Reinhardt, he felt that maybe, just maybe, dying would not be such a bad thing after all.

---​

Thus endeth the twenty-second chapter.

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Allright, so that's the latest update -- new header, any comments? Is it good, or was the previous one better? Anything more I could do with it.

Also, a little longer chapter than usual today. Do you prefer this length (ca. four A4-pages in MS Word), or the previous (ca. three A4-pages in MS Word?

Heck, we are a democracy!
 
Excellent chapter, I really liked it, some revelations made, like and eventual war against France, the dead of Camila, that really shocked me, and how Godfried spends his last days alone. Great built up chapter. Although I liked more the previous header.
 
Capibara said:
Excellent chapter, I really liked it, some revelations made, like and eventual war against France, the dead of Camila, that really shocked me, and how Godfried spends his last days alone. Great built up chapter. Although I liked more the previous header.
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The death of Camila was rather bothersome, since I had planned on using her to a bigger extent in this part of the story. But wellwell, c'est la vie.

That's one voice about the header, more! :D
 
It is a bit too long for me. :p

When I finished I had allready forgotten how it begun. :D

And btw, francais and deutsch were not that much different in 1000's... I think there is even a mention of vulgar latin being spoken around Triet as late as 1000. ;)

So latin was still in some use.

Shame on you, I don't remember more to comment. :p
 
Enewald said:
It is a bit too long for me. :p

When I finished I had allready forgotten how it begun. :D

And btw, francais and deutsch were not that much different in 1000's... I think there is even a mention of vulgar latin being spoken around Triet as late as 1000. ;)

So latin was still in some use.

Shame on you, I don't remember more to comment. :p
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Shame on you, you should remember :p
 
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