Me, Floris

Dear diary,

It's been a long time since I last looked at you. Too long, with too less going on. But that's a lie. There is always something going on, it being a decent trade, a skirmish or just the warm breeze on your face during a nice summer day. Even peace can be as exciting as war sometimes. But that's a lie too, that I kept on telling myself the past few years. It's all going to change now. I wish I had more time, but that's a luxury I can't afford. War is bound to happen in a place like this. I can only thank the sultan for the time he gave me to build up my forces. I hope it is enough.

The last war against the Nord had been devastating. I dare say that now. Even tough I conquered a fine piece of land, both our forces had been diminished. Had sultan Hakim known the extend of my losses, he wouldn't have hesitated to enact his little war against the Rhodok earlier, or even tried to have a go at me. He had fought the last war Calradia would see for a long time. If his troops hadn't bogged down in the mountains, forcing him to sign that peace treaty, the Rhodoks wouldn't have been anymore. Still, it had just been a delay of execution, for boots will march the fields once again by the end of this day. They are dead without knowing it yet.

I knew this day would come, even back then when all the storms calmed down. The morning is young and my wife is still asleep, but already I hear the hens shout out all the agony this wretched country wishes to bring upon us all. Within a few moments the sergeants will wake, only to shout at the fresh recruits that their already shiny armour isn't polished enough. They will hurry, obeying their superiors commands, only to find out that today the are really nothing. Today even the sergeants are unimportant, for this afternoon the knights will ride out.


Later this afternoon the knights will ride out.

No-one still suspects what they were training for. They think they know, but the truth is too delicate to be trusted to even fierce knights or my loyal companions. I know since the attempt at my life, almost three years ago, that there are powers beyond anyone's wildest dreams at work. Except mine. In my early days in this strange land, I invested most of my time learning the people, sweeping them up to join me in my quest for power and glory. But the dreams made me realise that there is no-one more important around here than I. Maybe that's why they all speak my language. It is me, Floris, who will determine the fate of Calradia.

That's why I started to train again. Some of my companions, or even soldiers, thought I was testing them, since it was them who stood against me on the fields of the ancient masters. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was testing myself, trying to remember moves and parries that I had never learned before. And I did. It was in these months at the different training fields I finally realised the truth behind the land I had stranded upon. It still needed to be confirmed tough, something I intend to do today. During all this time I only needed to hide my suspicions from myself, hence my reluctance to write anything down for almost three years. But after today it will mater no more. Today the truth will kill the lie.

I have trained with all the masters of Calradia. I travelled through all the lands, all the countries, and took recruits with me that will parade later this day as full grown knights. Given enough training, anyone can become a master, something the masters themselves pressed upon me. And I tend to agree. Last night I walked past the barracks, one last hidden inspection, and saw the faces of the young recruits. Even after just a few weeks they were showing signs of experience. After the coming war they will be as battle-hardened as the ones who will ride out with me.


I stood again on the training fields of the old Calradian masters.

But even the best training can't prepare you for real life as reality itself. After half a year of riding from one training field to the other, I remembered enough of seven lifetimes of martial studies. Battles that had never occurred played in front of my eyes, tactics I hadn't thought of - but could have invented - nestled in my brain. When I looked in the eyes of these old masters that had trained me so many times, the recognition tried to hide deep inside them, but couldn't escape my comprehension. Somewhere deep down they knew the truth behind Calradia, something even they didn't dare to think about. I could see in their gaze that the genie was out of the bottle, and had kicked it so far away that they couldn't put it back.

People say that I scared the old Calradian masters away by only looking at them. That's not true. They did ran, but not because of my stare. Not even a rabbit would run if it looked long enough in my eyes. It's what they saw deep down there that scared the hell out of them: they saw me slowly but surely comprehend the whole situation, and feared the outcome. They knew what was bound to happen when I found out, and didn't dare to face the world when it would realise its mistake. Today the training fields are abandoned, grasses growing over the places brave warriors-to-be once stood upon. The land is tucked to peace, and torn apart by this. I've seen the signs the past two years between my last training and the opening of my eyes this morning.


The ancient masters looked me in the eyes and all fled.

Enough about the former training fields. My wife just stirred: she is waking up. Soon I'll need to give her some attention. Somewhere deep down I regret that I haven't been able to give her enough attention the past few years of our marriage, and maybe this morning will be the last time I will lay my eyes upon her at all. Ever. There are unspeakable things I must do, all for the greater good. Or better said, the greater comprehension. I dare not to write them down before they have happened, for else the lands will surely find out before they are supposed to. My wife is just a pawn in the greater game, just like those masters were. The question is, will she realise it before it is too late?



*****
Gameplay notes
Here is a picture Floris' stats on 21 September 1261:


You might have noticed the giant leap in time between chapter 50 and 51. Don't worry, in the coming chapters I'll write more about what happened in that period, and what the current situation is. No borders changed for the first half year, so instead of a map I'll show you some bonus pictures of Floris on the training fields.

Dear diary,

The morning is still young, for the first light still crawls over the mountains, lighting little rainbows in the early dew I see on the windows. It has begun. My suspicion has been confirmed. Who are we to think we rule our own world? And what world do we truly live in? Who are they who live among me? I now know the answer to that last question. There is no turning back anymore. Well, maybe a poor sod - a servant, or a recruit perhaps - will take the blame and everything could be sorted out before anything would feel suspicious, but will it all really matter when the earth will rise to swallow us all? When the sky comes tumbling down, freezing mountains in its path? When we will be consumed by the flaming sun, crashing into the hearts of the people? Or when the sea swallows you whole, only to spit you out on shores, keeping your most precious possessions to itself?

As I wiped the bloody knife clean with a silk handkerchief I found beside the bed, I knew that I wouldn't return to this room any time soon. Not after the sacrifice I just made, the pain and agony I forced myself to endure. I'm sure it hurt her a lot too, but what is the physical pain compared to my mental health, which has given itself a severe blow? Maybe I had known from the day I courted her that it would all end in tears, somewhere deep inside. The past years the feeling had grown. But now that the deed has been done, I can't weep at all. Not only because the only handkerchief in the room is reddened by blood, but also because it all won't matter. After today, the world will never be the same.

Have you ever wondered what a woman really looks like? From the inside, I mean. What makes her heart tick, her stomach growl - altough real ladies will postpone that to private moments - and the man fit. And of course, most importantly, where the babies come from. You and I all know that they grow inside her, a small human trying to get big enough that it won't fit anymore and needs to get born. A woman is the workshop of men. Maybe that's why you don't see many of them on the battlefield: precious gems that are not to be wasted, for they are the ones who will produce new soldiers for the next generation. How else to train an army in fifteen to twenty years time if the women bearing the fruit of life would perish themselves on the battlefield?


Women are important assets for a future generation of soldiers.

In my time as a count I've seen countless bodies spread across various fields, even long before I winded up here in Calradia. Severed arms, guts spilling out: I can't help but be a master of anatomy. But the bodies I've seen were all male, all men who fought and perished. Here in Calradia it was no different. Even the female fighters were man enough on the field. But a real woman, who bears your child? No, I can't say I ever seen one from the inside. I even didn't witness the birth of my children, back home in Holland. The real Holland. So how am I supposed to know what their innards look like?

My deed was fed by suspicion for a long time. For as the years pass by, not even the most carefull woman can hide the signs of aging. A peachy skin will lose its softness, eyes will harden and even hair will loose it's once beautiful colour, to turn gray or white. Sometimes it takes decades, other times it seems to happen overnight. I've seen quite a few women in my time, but none as stunning as here in Calradia. First I praised myself lucky, especially with so many to choose from, but as the years crawled by, an unreal feeling started to creep up. Where were the marks of old age?

In all my years I've spend here travelling hence and forth, I've met quite a few people, including women. But none of them showed any sign of change. Yes, there are elder women - mothers of nobles, for an instance - but none got any more gray hairs, and their daughters remained in the blossom of their life. Any other man might remain happy when it would come to their attention, if at all, but not me. As I started to travel to pay the fees for my men and train them at the same time, I paid attention to the villages. It is among the common people that nothing remains hidden, and the miracle of birth happens far too often along those poor fellows. But not here.


Wherever I went, the women looked the same as the day I had arrived.

I've searched everywhere, I can assure you that. But nowhere a baby nor a small child was to be found. No women had felt the pain of birth, nor spoke of it at all. There were only adults, people in the flower of their life or at the peak of their wisdom - there was even no in between. Where do new soldiers come from, where do the women tend their offspring? And where are the old men burrowed who passed on to the next life? There is no graveyard in Calradia, no ceremony for tending the dead. Even the bodies of a battle disappear within a few days, I tested that out quite a couple of times. When I finally realised that something strange was going on over here, I knew that my wife would hold the answer.

When I heard her waking up, I walked to her and kissed her goodbye for the last time. 'Go back to sleep, my love,' I said to her, as I slowly grabbed my knife outside her sight. She closed her eyes, and made a ladylike sound, even tough she was still half asleep. Her eyes opened in a panic when my free hand firmly covered her mouth, pressing her lips shut. In her eyes I could read the silent question of 'Why?' when my knife quickly slit her throat. I was merciful with that, after all she was my wife and I had no quarrel with her. I only regret not to see any comprehension in her eyes, as the old masters had shown before removing themselves from this world.

When life had slipped away, I removed my hand from her dead lips, who were only warm by my body warmth. I watched them turn blue, and started to work. I opened her chest, and saw a pair of good lungs with a strong heart. These could have kept her going for quite some time if it hadn't been for me. So far so good. I lowered my knife to show her innards to the world. Everything a man has, including a fleshy hole for my manhood, was there. But nothing a woman should have. No place for a child, nothing that makes her female. Even the women of Calradia were men on the inside.


I never paid enough attention to my wife, lady Nelda, until this moment.

Now that I know, another puzzle piece has fallen on its place. I know what you are, Calradia. Beware, for I'm coming for you. After today you will know it too, and fear the moment I finally face you, and regret the day you ever took me in. But I can't keep on writing for now, as I hear a knock on the door. That will be the poor sod who will unwillingly take the blame for lady Nelda's death, even tough he is unaware of that fact yet. The day will truly start when I open that door. There is no turning back anymore. Calradia, here I come.



*****
Gameplay notes
Here is a picture Floris' stats on 13 April 1262:


This chapter playes only a few hours after the previous one, and the day isn't over yet. Expect more to come.

During the following half year, still nothing changed on the map, so I'll show you some arena pictures instead. It's up to you to guess where they are taken.

Dear diary,

Rumours are spreading. My wife is dead. Murdered brutally in a way no-one has ever seen by a servant, or so they say. Poor servant whose name I haven't had the chance yet to remember. Just hired a week ago, and already confronted with dead, and allocated to be the cause of it. We know better, but can't save him. He's young, inexperienced and by the end of the day either mad or dead himself. For now I ordered my room to be locked and sealed until my return - no-one is to trespass, no-one is to disturb the scene. Somewhere deep inside I expect to meet her again, for nobles don't die in Calradia, only soldiers. And I definitely don't want to be near this room if she gets up to find her innards on the outside.

After the door was sealed, impossible to open from the in- or outside, I wandered to the throne room. Everything happens over there, so everyone of any importance makes sure to be there as early as possible. My wife's absence was felt. Whispers filled the room until I entered, upon which it fell silent. Nobody dared to ask questions, as the look on my face told them it would be a bad idea. Very bad idea, indeed, for I knew everything. They must have asked themselves a thousand questions, as 'why', and 'how', but their inner thoughts are not of my concern. Finances, those are worth my attention. Normally I save them up for the end of the day, when the men are tired and unable to ask for a raise or something inconveniently else. But today I'll have to handle it in the morning, for after noon there won't be any time left for such trivialities.

I've trained an army as no-one has had under their personal command nor even seen. A sheer number of soldiers is something anyone can achieve - a sheer number of elite knights, now that is an army to be feared. But not only by the enemy: my treasury might fear this arm even more than any foe could. Last year I still had enough money to help the villages under my command, but nowadays I can hardly do anything for them at all. The army needs it all, and if nothing is done about it, my entire economy will collapse. Next week, on Tuesday, around teatime. Or so my bookkeeper keeps on telling me.


I meet my bookkeeper to discuss my financial affairs.

Of course this moment had been inevitable. I can't expect my treasury and income to support an infinite number of expensive and experienced soldiers, altough it would make life a lot easier. One day it would cost me more to pay them than my fiefs would bring in. Actually that moment had come half a year ago already, but thanks to my good trade connections I was able to postpone bankruptcy. I honestly can't recall the amount of times I transported spice from Tulga to any of the Sarranid cities, or sold velvet on markets all around the world. Great profits are made while my men train - still, it is not enough anymore.

No-one suspected a thing when I marched through their villages or towns with fresh recruits. Everyone thought I taught them the merchants trade. The fools! Well, hadn't sultan Hakim ensured peace, after all? And didn't all countries - except mine, which didn't stir much tough - sign treaties and pacts all the time ensuring the peace would last? People felt save when I rode past them, or even recruited their fellow villagers. They shouldn't have, for now all my hard work will come to fruition. I knew that I was heading for bankruptcy the moment I took this course, and I know the only remedy to save my country from total collapse is something people nowadays rather not think about.

As my bookkeeper showed me the last numbers and uttered his concerns, I knew what to do. I called a young messenger, and gave him a message I had written over two years ago, and told him to deliver it more swiftly than the wind. The words written in there would prevent my economy from total destruction. When the bookkeeper asked what possible message could bear words of such power, I smiled, and waited for the messenger to leave the room. Then I whispered a single word, that paled his face: War. His blank stare told me he didn't understand. But how could he? He was a bookkeeper, and never saw the field of battle. I helped him by sketching the details of warfare, the fighting, the conquests, the suffering. Still he didn't see the connection between a conflict and financial salvation, so I explained that during a conflict, I would waltz over the enemy with the army I had trained for so long, and would conquer their towns and villages, giving myself a higher income, enabling myself to pay for my soldiers. Thanks to the Sarranids I knew who would be the victim of my monetary expansion: the Rhodoks.


I travelled countless times through the Sarranid lands, delivering spice to pay my soldiers.

I had written the declaration of war the day Sultan Hakim had made peace with king Graveth, just to have it handy at a moment like this. There was no time to be lost by thinking over trivial words. No, today I would have to think about totally different words. The messenger would be already on his horse, riding towards the doomed country, unaware of the message he carries. He will be the harbinger of doom for king Graveth, the deliverer of words that would end the longest peace Calradia has ever seen. War. An invasion. Today my knights will ride out, and we will march west, all the way to the last outpost of that dying kingdom. If I don't seize them now, sultan Hakim will one day. And then I would be forced to take down a stronger foe in the dire situation I am in now.

My treasury is almost empty. There really is no postponing. If I don't conquer anything within a week, the decay will start. Next Tuesday would seem indeed a fine date. Finally I agree with my bookkeeper, who I leave in a shocked silence. Today is going to be the turning day for Calradia. Today will be the day I'll fight the land, not the people. For that I have tried too long, far too long. Conquering lands, capturing nobles, killing soldiers: it all seems pointless compared to the goal I've set for myself this time: to defeat Calradia itself.


My weekly budget is heading for a financial disaster.

The books are closed, and my servants are helping me in my armour. Outside, on the courtyard, the knights are gathering. They don't know yet what it is that awaits them. All they know is that I'll make an important announcement at noon. From here I can see their shining armour, and hear the shuffling of their boots. It's time to announce to the world that war will return to the lands, but not in a way it is hoping for. This time it will be my war, with my rules. Calradia will fall, once and for all.



*****
Gameplay notes
Here is a picture Floris' stats on 24 November 1262:


The world map still hasn't changed, so I give you one more bonus. This time I rode in a village, and freed the villagers from some evil bandits. Enjoy these pictures!


I rode into the village, for I had heard the screams of innocent taxpayers.


The Heavens will say this must be a fashinable fight. It's drawn the finest people, I see from my tactical position.


When the dust settles, this will all be over. Not yet now, for there are still areas without freshly spilled blood.


Finally, the villagers are free! They rejoice. And I do too, since I can immediately collect my taxes.

Dear diary,

The word is out. This noon I held a speech before my men, winding them up for the war we now entered. By doing so the lands learned that I knew, and immediately fought back. My words have literally rocked the world we know, and the rest of us hold dear. Even if I had wanted it, there is no turning back anymore. I have said that multiple times today, but now I really mean it. Even if I would quit, Calradia would still hunt me down like a wild animal. For I'm disturbing it even more than Hakim's peace did. Today, a few moments before noon, I watched fully armoured to the men that had gathered on the courtyard. It was crowded, for many soldiers were trained. The crowd made me excited in a way I never felt before.

When I walked outside at exactly noon, a loud cheering went up. As a thundering noise it echoed along the city, bounced between the city walls and kept on going even after I had raised my arms and all felt silent. When the last sound died away, I still stood there with my arms raised. My nerves were almost killing me, something they had never tried before in such an occasion. Everyone looked at me, even the birds had fallen silent and the castle walls listened. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Time itself held its breath.


I was very nervous before my speech.

'My loyal subjects, fearsome knights, and everyone who dares to listen to my words, present or not,' I started, stirring up the crowd, 'we stand at a crossroad today. Choices have to be made. Where will we go, and how will we act? The eyes of Calradia are watching us, for we have the heavy burden of making this choice. What we will do next will determine the fate of not just our country, but of entire Calradia for the coming thousand years!' Even the faint murmuring fell silent again upon hearing these words. They finally started to notice that it was not just them listening. I could feel the chill running through the crowd upon this realisation.

'Before I came to his place, it was torn by war. All you knew was fighting among each other. Sarranids against Rhodoks, Nord against Swadians - there were clear factions, and the land had been divided equally. I dare say you, that wasn't war. It was just a small quarrel between neighbouring nations. No, I showed you what war really was. Look around you. Vaegir standing next to Khergit - who would have thought that possible ten years ago?' Slowly I started to walk down the stairs. My words woke something deep inside each one of them, I could see it in their eyes.

'No-one, I dare say, for you were all sheep following the rules of the land. Yes, sheep! Then I came, your shepherd, and showed you how to work together. And see, Harlaus couldn't keep up, so he fell and took his kingdom with him. The Vaegir and Khergit had undergone the same fate. If we unite, we can beat anyone, I have shown you all that. Unite!' This unlocked a cheer from the crowd, but the birds were still not singing.


I was standing in the middle of the crowd.

'I said we stand at a crossroad, and so we are. You've known the small fights from before, and the wars fought under my banner. The past few years you've even tasted peace! Some say peace is necessary, that it will stimulate growth and prosperity. I say they are wrong! Just look where peace has brought us. At first the villages were doing fine, but soon their development came to a halt. How many of you knights have seen a real fight, and thus real honour, the past two years? None, I say! Hunting bandits is not fit for knights like us: we are here to fight real wars. We are here to conquer and unite! Will you fight? Yes! Yes we say!'

When the cheering had died down, I lowered my voice and continued with a whisper. 'Listen. Just listen. Where are the birds, where is the sound of a calm breeze? All have died down. When I asked you to fight, you all said yes. But whom should we fight, and whom is the real enemy? I can see it in your eyes that you do not know. Are it the Sarranids, who had brought us this terrible peace? No, for some of you are Sarranids, so they can't be the real enemy. Are it the Nords, whom we fought against in our last big war? No, for some of you are Nords, and were among the most valiant warriors. Are it the Rhodoks, who appear weak and almost defeaten? No, and don't laugh,' I said with a smile myself, 'for some of you are Rhodoks, and are among our strongest soldiers. We'll have to fight our brothers, for they don't see the truth yet. But they are not the real enemy. Whom it is, you ask? Who?'

It was like the world held its breath. No sound was to be heard from all over the cold Vaegir plains. Animals stopped their choirs, the wind laid down. Then, upon my words, all hell broke loose. 'Calradia,' I shouted. 'Calradia itself is our enemy!' The ground started to shake, and snow started to fall. Still I continued my speech: 'You are all stuck in the old ways. Even tough the empire is gone - Gone I say! - you still abide its laws, and believe its choirs. No!' Walls shook, birds screeched. 'You all need to wake up. To survive is to go forward. Even the cowardest among the animals will fight when cornered. So should you! See how the land fights to keep you under its thumb, to keep you dumb. See how the walls tremble and the land shakes. The storms gather, for we will fight them. And don't be scared, for we will win, I promise you that, because we stand united. Calradia will die, for Holland to be born.'

At that moment high sounds reached our ears, and we were all forced to look up. Seeing what the land had brought upon us, I shouted above the sound of screaming rocks: 'Let this day be known as the day the sky rained fire, and we stood up against the old order. We! Will! Fight! For Holland!'


The sky rained fire.

The cheering even overruled the impacts of the burning stones in the lands beyond our city. The men were angry upon seeing the violence nature brought against them. They were mere mortals no more: they were soldiers of the new order. They would follow me to hell and back, and that was exactly where I might have to lead them.



*****
Gameplay notes
Here is a picture Floris' stats on 29 March 1263:


Because I like explosions, I created these background pictures. Just choose a size, and enjoy!

loki100: Thanks . And indeed: I moved myself in a position where there is no other option.

Mikebloke: Cool to hear . Have fun with the game!

Dear Diary,

Today everyone is more alive than they had ever been. I had swiped them up with my speech, and Calradia showed them a reason to be angry. Burning rocks had fallen from the sky, creating large mushroom shaped clouds upon impact. It was a display of force never showed before. But instead of cowering, my men were even more determined to fight the lands, to bring down the old empire that had taken root inside everyones head. Even tough it was no more, it was still remembered, and there it got its real power. Memories keep ideas alive. If I could destroy that memory, the world would truly be mine.

When the sounds of impacts and cheering had died away, I selected two hundred of my finest men. They will accompany me with the first wave of attacks on the Rhodoks. Once they fall on the field - I know that it would be no 'if' - they can easily be replaced by brave new - and experienced - soldiers. I just can't support my whole army on the field: attrition will kill too many knights who are already too eager to die in battle. It is unfortunate, for had I been able to take them all, I might end all trouble without any real resistance.

All men were ready for action, for they had been ordered to be so yesterday. Now they knew why. Once I had chosen the lucky ones, we were able to leave within just a few hours. An army the like no-one had seen before: the best soldiers from all factions, side by side, riding to the Rhodoks to usurp the last remnants of that faction, as I had done with the Swadians, Vaegir and Khergit. As the gates closed behind us, I knew that I would only return with bad news, for I would only reappear with the need of new soldiers - meaning that hardened warriors had fallen, died in battle. I looked one more time at the city, only to find my gaze wandering off to the tower where I had examined my wife. Did I imagine it, or was there really someone gazing down on me from the open window? It would be even faster than I had imagined. In Calradia nobles don't die, so I can imagine that lady Nelda would be really pissed at me. I'd rather fight ten wars than face her in her current condition. With these thoughts haunting my mind, I looked away. Forward, that's where me and the united army of Calradian soldiers will be going.


In the fading light of the evening I rode with my army away from my capital.

The first steps outside the gate showed me the face of our enemy. My speech had rocked the land, and it had fought back with all it had got. Earthquakes had shaken the trees,throwing them all around the place. Some farms hadn't had the strength to withstand this heavy force, and had collapsed, burrowing unfortunate farmers beneath the straw roofs and wooden or - in some unlucky cases - stone walls. Crying wailed up from the fresh ruins, and I ordered my men to free whoever had the breath to shout for help. This was just the first strike Calradia had made against my people: seeing the suffering, my men shouted out their frustrations. Was this the Calradia they had believed in?

Riding further, we could see the effect the snow and ice had. Blizzards had raged outside the walls, freezing anything in their path. It looked like the sky had fallen down. Snow covered the trees, rivers were frozen, pools were turned into ice. The world had become an even paler place than it had been around here. Even the wildlife hadn't survived nature's onslaught. We soon found out that frozen food remains fresh for a remarkably long time, and my men rejoiced. For the second time Calradia had failed to scare my soldiers, to drive them away from the path I had laid in front of them. No, their loyalty was beyond any doubt.

After travelling for an hour, we finally saw the result of the third manifestation, and everyone fell silent. The sky had rained fire, molten rocks burning a path through the air. When touching the land they had scarred it beyond recognition. Big black craters laid spread out all over the fields, giving the once white landscape a touch of hell. Fires had raged though the woods - as far as they hadn't been crushed by the rocks creating those craters, blackening the land. The snow from before was replaced by ash, which still came down as a foul rain. Thick clouds and dark dust covered the sky, obscuring the sun from time to time. It might take a while before normal light would return to these lands.


Looking out over the land, I could see the scars the fireballs had left.

The sight of so much destruction silenced even the most talkative bard among us. Without a word we rode on. I could feel the anger boiling up among the troops. They hadn't believed in a perfect past, but in an abomination, a monster ready to strike anyone who dared to disobey. It had stretched three of its four claws, but had failed to bring the men back under its hood. It was loosing the battle even before it had begun. Still there was one more claw left: the sea, who takes and gives. I knew it was saving it for me alone. It's inevitable. But when it comes, I will be ready.

The men now thought they knew the real enemy. That now they had witnessed the powers of nature, they would be up against the real thing. How wrong they are. There is only one real enemy, and he is walking among them. They don't recognise him, even if he's staring them in the eyes. I look around me, and can't help but to feel sorry for them. The war to end all wars has begun, and in the end it will consume them. My dreams have shown the real enemy, and my wife confirmed it. I don't know yet what these people are, but human they are not. Humans age, are being born and die of old age. I can't say what these Calradians are, all I know is that I'm more than a stranger in faraway lands: I'm the sole human being trodding this forsaken country. Are they angels or demons? Or maybe fairies or elves, like the superstition the peasants back home believe in? The absense of any church and the presence of these creatures tells me that I'm not anymore on the world God has created. Maybe that's the reason he doesn't reply to my prayers for guidance.

But whatever the men around here are, I know that deep inside they are good people, definitely standing above any low animal. Men are still rotten on the inside: given an impossible choice, the animal crawls out and takes over. Men are beasts. I am a monster. It is me, Floris, who is the real enemy - the destroyer walking among people. But they are too good to even start phantoming that. Especially the nobles, for they can't die, can they? The old masters had seen in my eyes that I had learned the truth, that I now know that I'm in strange lands beyond God's grasp, that I can't be fooled anymore and that it would only be a matter of time before I would find a way to destroy it all. Looking at the craters all around me, I think I found it.


Night is falling for Calradia. I doubt that the country will ever be the same again.

Darkness is falling over Calradia, and I don't know when the sun will shine again. Maybe it won't 'till I have perished, something I won't do before shaping the world in my image. The only thing I don't know yet is why I'm here, and even more importantly, will I ever see my real wife again? I have my suspicions, but they are something not to be uttered lightly. Definitely not now the night is nigh and the camp is being set up. Tomorrow will be another day full of marching, for we ride to the Rhodoks.



*****
Gameplay notes
Here is a picture Floris' current stats:


This was the last of the five chapters that describe the events on 26 November 1263. I used these chapters also to tell what happened during the two and a half years (!) of peace. IT is quite extraordinary that no faction has waged war with each other for such a long time, and I must admit that it was a bit of a drag to play. But I used this time well: I trained a lot of men, and gained a few levels myself.

Not everyone liked the direction I headed with these five chapters. There was no fighting, and Floris seems to become madder with every word he utters. Don't worry about the lack of wars: that's something that's going to change in the coming chapters, for now I'm invading the Rhodoks. I still need to play the fights and sieges, but I'm sure that this will be like the good ol' fighting days. As for his mental devellopment: I am working towards an end, and this is all part of it. You'll see how it plays out.

Since there are no changes on the map yet, I made a few more background pictures. I took some from old chapters, and brushed them up. This time I didn't resize it into every possible size. Maybe you can guess what chapters these pictures are from?

Thanks, loki100!