Congratz for a well deserved award 
(and though a day late, a very happy birthday to this awesome Tale)
(and though a day late, a very happy birthday to this awesome Tale)
Homelands: Tales of the Anglo-Prussians
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Homelands
Chapter Twenty Eight: Glory and Shame
Part 1
Prelude:
Dynasties and the entire concept of dynastic succession and law had started to come under fire in the late XIII Century. The failures in Germany and France were mostly to blame. The suppression of news to the lower classes was the only way that the ruling families in weaker countries could keep their position. In Prussia the dynastic system was flourishing. Now that the originally limited number of families had expanded, new naming conventions were being made and regulated so that those of nobility could stand above the rest. Generally a Prussian name had two parts, a given name and father's name. Some had three, especially if a relative had recently died a son would be named after the relative, have his own name, and then his father's name. Nobility also had a dynastic name, usually related to the founder of the house and a second locative name based on where the original founder ruled. King Kiten's full name was Kiten Kárnáksun ŝev Leofwinæs áv Hwike (Kiten, son of Karnak of the Leofwines, of Hwicce). By the XVI Century it was considered passé to include the founding name, so those were generally dropped by all but the oldest houses. Within a founding name would often be many different branches, some of the most famous of the Leofwines were the Hwicces, Romanias, Estlands, and Moldaus.
Lands ruled by members of the House of Leofwine.
November 11th, 1279
Rasa was due to give birth to their fifth child in January. The palace was picking up with activity as the signs that it would be a son were all there. He planned to name the boy Gunvald, after his famous ancestor. It had become a popular name amongst the nobility, but one rarely used by the royal family.
"You must be excited, Kiten," Jakob said. Kiten's friend already had three sons, something Jakob knew the King was envious of.
"I am, Jakob... Not just for me though, I am excited as he will be the future King of Prussia, there is so much I want to teach him, so much I want to show him."
"He will learn in due time, my lord," Jakob laughed, "He will have to if he wishes to fill the shoes of his predecessors." Jakob paused, "But... my lord... what if it is not a son? I fear that you might take it poorly."
"Ah! That damned 'but'! I hear it all the time these days! I know, I know, nothing is certain... but let me dream, friend. If that is the case, I shall turn to Rasa and my friends for strength. The cruelty of the world is not strange to me." Kiten replied. He shook his head, he knew his hopes were mostly unfounded, but he stuck to what made him happy. The King knew that the need for an heir was becoming increasingly dire. He was almost forty-five, vulture-like people would soon start appearing in court to try to woo him in order to be declared heir.
"So how many brides where you offered today, my lord?" Jakob asked, seeing through Kiten's face and into his fears.
"Two, actually, it is a low-point. I think I have run out of single women in Christian Europe. It is as if they do not even see Rasa standing beside me," Kiten lamented.
"Actually, I think you have been introduced to Muslim women as well... at least one family that came in was from Helvetia," Jakob pointed out. Kiten sighed deeply. The two men then walked side-by-side around the promenade. The chill of winter was not enough to keep Kiten from enjoying the fresh air of Kiev. "You know, Kiten," Jakob said informally now that they were outside, "You might as well move the capital to Kiev... you are here more than in Memelgrád."
"Æs bin se já. Æs bin próŝjá." Kiten said quietly. "They can come to me."
Jakob chuckled, "I never really thought of it that way. 'I am the state,'" he mimicked. Kiten smiled, he was glad that he had kept his friends close.
"It is strange that as King of Prussia I can choose to do anything but chose my heir. I mean, I can pick from my sons but I could not make, for instance, you my successor," Kiten said.
"Why? What stops you? Has any King tried?"
"No, but the Kingship must be held by a male of the blood."
"The blood?" Jakob asked, his eyebrow peaked in interest.
"They must be a descendent of Leofwine of Hwicce, doesn't matter how far removed. Just as long as they have a prick and can trace a line back to one dead-and-buried Saxon."
"Huh, well... that is that," Jakob said. He kicked idly at the grass around him. Jakob was technically nobility, but he knew deep down that he was not considered a member by the rest of the court. He was an outsider, a mere Knight amongst Princes and Kings. "Some people are just lucky, I guess."
"I guess. It never made sense to me either, but I had a purpose to fulfill, so I am going to do it. If I didn't... who would? There is a curse to power as well, Jakob. The luckiest of all are the Princes who have nothing to do but be nobility."
"I understand that, Kiten, and I don't blame you... but I am an outside in the court. My wife is not a noble, I am not truly a noble. Why am I expected to act like one?"
"Court is a strange place where no one is themselves, not even me."
Jakob sighed, it was true, he was not the only one out of his element, "I don't know how Andres does it. He is always so happy. He never seems to have a care in the world."
"Maybe that is it, he doesn't have a care in the world, he doesn't care what people think of him or his family, he doesn't care about his background, he is proud of his father, but also proud of his children. He sees no difference between doing your job as a farmer, and doing your job as a knight so long as you do your job," Kiten said getting them moving again.
"Maybe, he is a simple man with simple goals."
Kiten chuckled, "Yeah... Andres is a good guy. Both of you... you are my brothers whether the court agrees or not."
"And to think you found us sparring on the side of the road after church."
Homelands
Chapter Twenty Eight: Glory and Shame
Part 1
Prelude:
Dynasties and the entire concept of dynastic succession and law had started to come under fire in the late XIII Century. The failures in Germany and France were mostly to blame. The suppression of news to the lower classes was the only way that the ruling families in weaker countries could keep their position. In Prussia the dynastic system was flourishing. Now that the originally limited number of families had expanded, new naming conventions were being made and regulated so that those of nobility could stand above the rest. Generally a Prussian name had two parts, a given name and father's name. Some had three, especially if a relative had recently died a son would be named after the relative, have his own name, and then his father's name. Nobility also had a dynastic name, usually related to the founder of the house and a second locative name based on where the original founder ruled. King Kiten's full name was Kiten Kárnáksun ŝev Leofwinæs áv Hwike (Kiten, son of Karnak of the Leofwines, of Hwicce). By the XVI Century it was considered passé to include the founding name, so those were generally dropped by all but the oldest houses. Within a founding name would often be many different branches, some of the most famous of the Leofwines were the Hwicces, Romanias, Estlands, and Moldaus.
Lands ruled by members of the House of Leofwine.
November 11th, 1279
Rasa was due to give birth to their fifth child in January. The palace was picking up with activity as the signs that it would be a son were all there. He planned to name the boy Gunvald, after his famous ancestor. It had become a popular name amongst the nobility, but one rarely used by the royal family.
"You must be excited, Kiten," Jakob said. Kiten's friend already had three sons, something Jakob knew the King was envious of.
"I am, Jakob... Not just for me though, I am excited as he will be the future King of Prussia, there is so much I want to teach him, so much I want to show him."
"He will learn in due time, my lord," Jakob laughed, "He will have to if he wishes to fill the shoes of his predecessors." Jakob paused, "But... my lord... what if it is not a son? I fear that you might take it poorly."
"Ah! That damned 'but'! I hear it all the time these days! I know, I know, nothing is certain... but let me dream, friend. If that is the case, I shall turn to Rasa and my friends for strength. The cruelty of the world is not strange to me." Kiten replied. He shook his head, he knew his hopes were mostly unfounded, but he stuck to what made him happy. The King knew that the need for an heir was becoming increasingly dire. He was almost forty-five, vulture-like people would soon start appearing in court to try to woo him in order to be declared heir.
"So how many brides where you offered today, my lord?" Jakob asked, seeing through Kiten's face and into his fears.
"Two, actually, it is a low-point. I think I have run out of single women in Christian Europe. It is as if they do not even see Rasa standing beside me," Kiten lamented.
"Actually, I think you have been introduced to Muslim women as well... at least one family that came in was from Helvetia," Jakob pointed out. Kiten sighed deeply. The two men then walked side-by-side around the promenade. The chill of winter was not enough to keep Kiten from enjoying the fresh air of Kiev. "You know, Kiten," Jakob said informally now that they were outside, "You might as well move the capital to Kiev... you are here more than in Memelgrád."
"Æs bin se já. Æs bin próŝjá." Kiten said quietly. "They can come to me."
Jakob chuckled, "I never really thought of it that way. 'I am the state,'" he mimicked. Kiten smiled, he was glad that he had kept his friends close.
"It is strange that as King of Prussia I can choose to do anything but chose my heir. I mean, I can pick from my sons but I could not make, for instance, you my successor," Kiten said.
"Why? What stops you? Has any King tried?"
"No, but the Kingship must be held by a male of the blood."
"The blood?" Jakob asked, his eyebrow peaked in interest.
"They must be a descendent of Leofwine of Hwicce, doesn't matter how far removed. Just as long as they have a prick and can trace a line back to one dead-and-buried Saxon."
"Huh, well... that is that," Jakob said. He kicked idly at the grass around him. Jakob was technically nobility, but he knew deep down that he was not considered a member by the rest of the court. He was an outsider, a mere Knight amongst Princes and Kings. "Some people are just lucky, I guess."
"I guess. It never made sense to me either, but I had a purpose to fulfill, so I am going to do it. If I didn't... who would? There is a curse to power as well, Jakob. The luckiest of all are the Princes who have nothing to do but be nobility."
"I understand that, Kiten, and I don't blame you... but I am an outside in the court. My wife is not a noble, I am not truly a noble. Why am I expected to act like one?"
"Court is a strange place where no one is themselves, not even me."
Jakob sighed, it was true, he was not the only one out of his element, "I don't know how Andres does it. He is always so happy. He never seems to have a care in the world."
"Maybe that is it, he doesn't have a care in the world, he doesn't care what people think of him or his family, he doesn't care about his background, he is proud of his father, but also proud of his children. He sees no difference between doing your job as a farmer, and doing your job as a knight so long as you do your job," Kiten said getting them moving again.
"Maybe, he is a simple man with simple goals."
Kiten chuckled, "Yeah... Andres is a good guy. Both of you... you are my brothers whether the court agrees or not."
"And to think you found us sparring on the side of the road after church."
yay! an update!
not a son eh? too bad, I would have loved to see "the second" of something.
not a son eh? too bad, I would have loved to see "the second" of something.
I have just one question. Why is Bohemia still a kingdom and not a princedom inside the Empire of Prussia?
In time.
Not to give too much away, but them come eventually.
Bohemia was ruled as an independent Kingdom, basically. I ignored it in game, gave it away to some Princes, eventually just one Prince. Especially with Hungary, I acted as if they were in a Union with Prussia and not actually part of Prussia. Mostly it is because I am not interested in this being a world conquest. If one is expecting the series to end with a one-world government ruled from Memel, they are going to be disappointed. I am really interested in writing a good, realistic alternate history.
You already did that once. T'would be boring to do it again.
I cannot wait to see Prussia in EU3.
Still. Bohemia and Hungary should be assimilated.
Going as far as, Greece for example, would indeed be silly. But Hungary and Bohemia I think should, over the years be incorporated into the Kingdom.
Going as far as, Greece for example, would indeed be silly. But Hungary and Bohemia I think should, over the years be incorporated into the Kingdom.
Yeah, and I almost did again with France.
But they weren't assimilated politically. Most of this is written in retrospect. Currently my notes go as far as 1581. Culturally there was some assimilation. Polish/Czech Prussians are known as Silesians, Hungarian/Vlach Prussians are known as Bessbarians. Bessbarians are actually rather important to events in EUIII as they act as a fifth column to Hungary. When the Kingdoms are divided, historical lines are used, leaving the Bessbarians deep into neighboring countries where they are unhappy being ruled by ethnic Hungarians and Vlachs.
No legitimate sons yet, anyways.
Prussian succession law says that only the King can chose the heir, and only from legitimate blood relatives. Since Kiten has not chosen an heir, there is no heir apparent, just heirs presumptive. The h.p. with the strongest claim is Bulei, Kiten's brother who is mentally ill (but would be supported by power-hungry nobles). Heads of different cadet branches of the House of Leofwine would also be in a strong position to force their claim if Kiten were to die without declaring an h.a.
To have the philanderer have no male children would be a historical irony bar none.
Homelands
Chapter Twenty Eight: Glory and Shame
Part 2
Prelude:
1280 heralded an end to Germany, starting with the near-by Kingdom of the Netherlands. The war was surprisingly brief. It was as if the fight had finally been squeezed out of the Revisionists and their leaders. Christian art from Germany during this time period took on a very dark and often death-related tones. The war, in short, was lost. Starting in 1283, the Caliphate's records report increasing numbers of suicides amongst Christians as well as huge spikes in emigration. There was one report, from the region that used to be Flanders, of a church congregation packing into their tiny building and setting it ablaze from the inside. The city watch tried hopelessly to save the children at least, using bucket brigades to try to stop the fire. No one could be saved. The Dark Ages, following the fall of Rome, were reaching their lowest peak in Europe. Even the usually enlightened Muslims were beginning to find division points. It seemed that all peoples would be rendered apart. East from West, North from South. Off to the side, Prussia found itself divided between those who wanted to keep Prussia out of the wars, and those who thought that Prussia could tip the balance in the favor of the Christians and end the fighting once and for all. It all rested on the shoulders of Kiten, King of Prussia.
The Caliphate of Toledo and the Europeans in 1280.
March 7th, 1280
The grey and cold kept Kiten company as he wandered aimlessly through gardens of dead and dormant plants. Tears streamed down his face as they had every day since Rasa died. He sobbed, quietly, and alone. The fishy smell of Memelgrád brought the whole scene together. Far south, along the bank of the Dnieper, a white marble mausoleum was being built around his beloved's grave. And yet, even as he grieved, the brides continued to appear. The court was pressuring him to chose one and, as one minister put it, "get to work."
Silently he continued around his normal route, given by a small path of foot prints. He came to a small stone bench, free of snow from the previous days. He sat and sank his face into his hands. Only the light sound of powder blown by the wind perforated his ears. All he did was reflect, looking back. He sighed, this is not how she would want him to live. He needed to get out of this rut. The cold nipped at his nose as he looked up and around him. For a few seconds he was blind, only a dark figure could be made out against the white of the world around him. As his eyes focused he saw that it was Andres. The snow had muffled his footsteps, leaving Kiten vulnerable.
"Your majesty, I am sorry to both you..." Andres's voice trailed off, "I know you don't want to hear it, but there is another bride-in-waiting to see you. I think that the court might say yes for you."
"Then let them," Kiten said. He tried to sand off the anger in his voice. Andres was the messenger, and he was just doing his job. Andres sat down next to Kiten and put an arm around him.
"I think we both known that letting the court do as it pleases is not the right answer." Kiten snorted and tried to seem amused. "Now, you should come back inside before you catch cold." Andres brushed some snow off of Kiten's shoulder.
"What is going to stop them? They are so damned worried about finding an heir... I can appoint an heir whenever I am damned ready. But I am a King, I cannot afford to be free." Kiten stood up, defeated and walked with Andres back to the palace. Inside a line of people had formed, all waiting to speak with the King. His latest possible bride-to-be was waiting at the head of the line, but as Kiten walked past he noticed a man in a purple suit carrying a roll of paper. It had to be from the Roman Empire.
Kiten sat at his throne and looked through the crowd. "You, in the purple, deliver your message, everyone else leave this room," he said without much more hesitation. People looked angry but did as they were told. The man in purple stepped forward bowing and sweeping his hat across the floor in a very dramatic entrance. Kiten was unmoved. "State you name and business."
"I am Prince Osric, Grand Prince of Macedonia! I come bearing news from the Roman Empire, news that directly effects your realm." Osric handed Kiten the parchment, and the King broke the seal and read through.
His face grew steadily angrier, and Osric's steadily pleased. "What insolence is this?! You are shutting off the Bosporus and Dardanelles to Prussian shipping?! Under what pretense?! We have treaties preventing this sort of thing!"
Osric's face turned smug as he waved the arguments away with a flick of his hand, "All things subject to the will of the Emperor... Why do you wish to protest?"
"I do, but I won't do it to you!" Kiten said, now standing up from the throne.
"O, but I believe you have little other choice, my lord. So you might as well start addressing me a bit more properly if you wish to have your Black Sea trade restored anytime in the near future." Osric smiled, he thought he had Kiten where he wanted him, but Kiten stopped and thought, here was his chance. His chance for revenge.
"No," he said, "No, I will not talk this over with some damned Prince. I am the King of Prussia, and I deserve that level of respect. But no, this is what I've been telling people... this constant disrespect from the Roman Empire. I will go to Constantinople and I will reopen trade and that is final." And with that Osric left, he was not sure if he had won or not. The Prussians still didn't have their trade, but he didn't get to see a King beg.
The Saxon walked in a huff past the people in hall, they seemed worried as they had heard shouting. "Damned peasants," Osric thought aloud when he was with his guard, "They have no idea what their stupid King is getting them into." He scoffed and return to his ship.
Andres and Jakob entered the throne room, "My lord," Jakob asked, "What was that?"
"Rome has tried to cut off our hand, we shall be smarter than they were and aim for the head." There was a quiet pause between the three men. People filed into the room to hear the King speak.
"What do you mean, my lord?" Andres asked, now seriously concerned as Kiten paced slightly, his hand on his chin as he thought.
"What has happened?!" cried one court member.
"This is all his fault!" shouted another pointing at Kiten.
With the situation still in his hand, though slowly slipping through his fingers Kiten muttered three words that would go down in history. He turned to Jakob, with the utmost seriousness and said, "Iebrukt se románænæs."
Jakob's face first took the form of shock, but then a mix of glee and patriotism, "INVADE THE ROMANS!" the shout filled the palace and all of the capital. Prussia marched off to war.
Chapter Twenty Eight: Glory and Shame
Part 2
Prelude:
1280 heralded an end to Germany, starting with the near-by Kingdom of the Netherlands. The war was surprisingly brief. It was as if the fight had finally been squeezed out of the Revisionists and their leaders. Christian art from Germany during this time period took on a very dark and often death-related tones. The war, in short, was lost. Starting in 1283, the Caliphate's records report increasing numbers of suicides amongst Christians as well as huge spikes in emigration. There was one report, from the region that used to be Flanders, of a church congregation packing into their tiny building and setting it ablaze from the inside. The city watch tried hopelessly to save the children at least, using bucket brigades to try to stop the fire. No one could be saved. The Dark Ages, following the fall of Rome, were reaching their lowest peak in Europe. Even the usually enlightened Muslims were beginning to find division points. It seemed that all peoples would be rendered apart. East from West, North from South. Off to the side, Prussia found itself divided between those who wanted to keep Prussia out of the wars, and those who thought that Prussia could tip the balance in the favor of the Christians and end the fighting once and for all. It all rested on the shoulders of Kiten, King of Prussia.
The Caliphate of Toledo and the Europeans in 1280.
March 7th, 1280
The grey and cold kept Kiten company as he wandered aimlessly through gardens of dead and dormant plants. Tears streamed down his face as they had every day since Rasa died. He sobbed, quietly, and alone. The fishy smell of Memelgrád brought the whole scene together. Far south, along the bank of the Dnieper, a white marble mausoleum was being built around his beloved's grave. And yet, even as he grieved, the brides continued to appear. The court was pressuring him to chose one and, as one minister put it, "get to work."
Silently he continued around his normal route, given by a small path of foot prints. He came to a small stone bench, free of snow from the previous days. He sat and sank his face into his hands. Only the light sound of powder blown by the wind perforated his ears. All he did was reflect, looking back. He sighed, this is not how she would want him to live. He needed to get out of this rut. The cold nipped at his nose as he looked up and around him. For a few seconds he was blind, only a dark figure could be made out against the white of the world around him. As his eyes focused he saw that it was Andres. The snow had muffled his footsteps, leaving Kiten vulnerable.
"Your majesty, I am sorry to both you..." Andres's voice trailed off, "I know you don't want to hear it, but there is another bride-in-waiting to see you. I think that the court might say yes for you."
"Then let them," Kiten said. He tried to sand off the anger in his voice. Andres was the messenger, and he was just doing his job. Andres sat down next to Kiten and put an arm around him.
"I think we both known that letting the court do as it pleases is not the right answer." Kiten snorted and tried to seem amused. "Now, you should come back inside before you catch cold." Andres brushed some snow off of Kiten's shoulder.
"What is going to stop them? They are so damned worried about finding an heir... I can appoint an heir whenever I am damned ready. But I am a King, I cannot afford to be free." Kiten stood up, defeated and walked with Andres back to the palace. Inside a line of people had formed, all waiting to speak with the King. His latest possible bride-to-be was waiting at the head of the line, but as Kiten walked past he noticed a man in a purple suit carrying a roll of paper. It had to be from the Roman Empire.
Kiten sat at his throne and looked through the crowd. "You, in the purple, deliver your message, everyone else leave this room," he said without much more hesitation. People looked angry but did as they were told. The man in purple stepped forward bowing and sweeping his hat across the floor in a very dramatic entrance. Kiten was unmoved. "State you name and business."
"I am Prince Osric, Grand Prince of Macedonia! I come bearing news from the Roman Empire, news that directly effects your realm." Osric handed Kiten the parchment, and the King broke the seal and read through.
His face grew steadily angrier, and Osric's steadily pleased. "What insolence is this?! You are shutting off the Bosporus and Dardanelles to Prussian shipping?! Under what pretense?! We have treaties preventing this sort of thing!"
Osric's face turned smug as he waved the arguments away with a flick of his hand, "All things subject to the will of the Emperor... Why do you wish to protest?"
"I do, but I won't do it to you!" Kiten said, now standing up from the throne.
"O, but I believe you have little other choice, my lord. So you might as well start addressing me a bit more properly if you wish to have your Black Sea trade restored anytime in the near future." Osric smiled, he thought he had Kiten where he wanted him, but Kiten stopped and thought, here was his chance. His chance for revenge.
"No," he said, "No, I will not talk this over with some damned Prince. I am the King of Prussia, and I deserve that level of respect. But no, this is what I've been telling people... this constant disrespect from the Roman Empire. I will go to Constantinople and I will reopen trade and that is final." And with that Osric left, he was not sure if he had won or not. The Prussians still didn't have their trade, but he didn't get to see a King beg.
The Saxon walked in a huff past the people in hall, they seemed worried as they had heard shouting. "Damned peasants," Osric thought aloud when he was with his guard, "They have no idea what their stupid King is getting them into." He scoffed and return to his ship.
Andres and Jakob entered the throne room, "My lord," Jakob asked, "What was that?"
"Rome has tried to cut off our hand, we shall be smarter than they were and aim for the head." There was a quiet pause between the three men. People filed into the room to hear the King speak.
"What do you mean, my lord?" Andres asked, now seriously concerned as Kiten paced slightly, his hand on his chin as he thought.
"What has happened?!" cried one court member.
"This is all his fault!" shouted another pointing at Kiten.
With the situation still in his hand, though slowly slipping through his fingers Kiten muttered three words that would go down in history. He turned to Jakob, with the utmost seriousness and said, "Iebrukt se románænæs."
Jakob's face first took the form of shock, but then a mix of glee and patriotism, "INVADE THE ROMANS!" the shout filled the palace and all of the capital. Prussia marched off to war.
To the City of Men's Desire!!!
Rend the walls!
Annihilate their armies!
Enslave the nobles!
Wreck their ships!
Extirpate their pride!
Butcher their livestock!
Devastate their harvests!
Obliterate their churches!
Steal their gold and art!
Ravage everything!
And the shiniest of their shiniest artefacts you shall bring home.
No new wife?
Ashamed be.
Rend the walls!
Annihilate their armies!
Enslave the nobles!
Wreck their ships!
Extirpate their pride!
Butcher their livestock!
Devastate their harvests!
Obliterate their churches!
Steal their gold and art!
Ravage everything!
And the shiniest of their shiniest artefacts you shall bring home.
No new wife?
Ashamed be.
To the City of Men's Desire!!!
Rend the walls!
Annihilate their armies!
Enslave the nobles!
Wreck their ships!
Extirpate their pride!
Butcher their livestock!
Devastate their harvests!
Obliterate their churches!
Steal their gold and art!
Ravage everything!
And the shiniest of their shiniest artefacts you shall bring home.
No new wife?
Ashamed be.
Maybe he'll pick one up in Constantinople?
Don't forget he didn't make the Harem yet! After Rome is dealt with he'll probably spawn some "official" bastard and make him king. He's the first despotic king so he can do whatever he pleases.
And yes! Take that arrogant saxons! Kiten Leofricson FTW!
And yes! Take that arrogant saxons! Kiten Leofricson FTW!
At last ! The Empire be punished
Prussia, in the end could even claim the title of Emperor of Prussia, leaving a poor King of Constantinople
Prussia, in the end could even claim the title of Emperor of Prussia, leaving a poor King of Constantinople
Nope, who'd guess that Kiten would have feelings.To the City of Men's Desire!!!
Rend the walls!
Annihilate their armies!
Enslave the nobles!
Wreck their ships!
Extirpate their pride!
Butcher their livestock!
Devastate their harvests!
Obliterate their churches!
Steal their gold and art!
Ravage everything!
And the shiniest of their shiniest artefacts you shall bring home.
No new wife?
Ashamed be.
Maybe, we shall see.
The harem is coming, no worries.
Now I just need to write something worth everyone's expectations...At last ! The Empire be punished
Prussia, in the end could even claim the title of Emperor of Prussia, leaving a poor King of Constantinople
o
Anyways, to set the tone for the next update, here is some ambiance from my favourite show (when I have time to watch TV): MUSIC.