The Final Crusade
A Knights AAR
This is my first AAR. I thought I'd give it a shot.
Made with Vanilla Eu3 1.1.
A Knights AAR
This is my first AAR. I thought I'd give it a shot.
Made with Vanilla Eu3 1.1.
Prologue
Rhodes, 1461
Piero Raimondo Zacosta, Grandmaster of the Knight's Hospitaller, the Knight's of Rhodes, and inheritors to the crusader tradition, was a worried man. He roughly scratched at his beard as he stared out from his keep across the moonlight waters below him, a grimace etched into his features. For over a century his order had held the island of Rhodes, strategically located in the Eastern mediterranean. Protected by the sea, the Knights had survived when Jerusalem fell to the moslems, or the conquering of Constantinople by the Turks.
With a disgusted snort, Zacosta turned from the window and marched to his desk. With one hand he grasped the chalice waiting there and, throwing his head back, emptied it. The Grandmaster wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and quickly poured himself another amount of wine. "If there's one thing these Greeks can do right," he muttered to himself "its wine."
Slowly rolling the wine in his cup, the Grandmaster made his way back to the window. He now faced a terrible foe. The Turks, who had violated Constantinople only a short few years ago, now controlled most of the lands around the Knight and posed the greatest threat to the continued existence of the Order.
"I wonder how the Blessed Gerard would have handled such a situation as this?" Zacosta pondered outloud, sipping at the lukewarm wine. The rich flavor and strong taste went unapreciated in his melancholy; the dangers and worries facing the Order weighing upon his shoulders like a suit of stone armor that supressed the few pleasures in his life. Despite this, Zacosta had himself finished off a dozen or so servings of wine, his thoughts of the future forcing him to drink until he can finally, blissfully find sleep.
"What is the point?" Zacosta posed the question, knowing there was no answer. "For every man I raise the Turks will bring 50. Bah!" Turning to refill his cup, the Grandmaster absentmindedly placed his foot into a small puddle of his spilt wine. With a start, Zacosta felt his legs kick out from beneath him. Before he could even shout in suprise, his head crashed into the stone floor with a wicked crack. His world flashed white.
- - - - -
"Aaaraaahh!" The loud shout, a mixture of pain and suprise resonated through the oak doors to the Grandmasters room. The two honor guards turned to one another in suprise before registering the possibility that their liege needed help. They threw the doors open and stormed into Zacosta's spartan quarters to cries of loud exclamations.
"I have seen it!" The guards were caught off guard by Zacosta as he lept forward and hugged the soldier nearest to him in a crushing bear hug. His wild eyes, still glazed from the fall, were full of happiness and joy. "He has shown me the way! I have seen our Lord, and he has guided me this day!" Letting loose an elated laugh, the Grandmaster almost danced to his desk. "My prayers have been answered!" Zacosta grabbed a quill, and dunked it into his inkwell. Furiously he began scratching away onto a loose sheet of parchment, humming to himself as he wrote.
The guardsmen looked at each other again, a mixture of shock and confusion on thier faces. "Grandmaster, sire," one began, attempting to get Zacosta's attention. "What has happened?" The other gestured to the matted blood on Zacosta's head, asking ,"do you need an apothecary, Grandmaster?"
"No time for that! No time!" Zacosta was filled with richeous zeal, his eyes ablaze with purpose. "I have had a message from God himself! He has sent his true son to give me the direction I need!" Finishing his writing, Zacosta quickly rolled the paper tightly while looking up at the two baffled guards. "Our Lord has spoken to me, and He must be obeyed!" Sealing the letter in wax, Zacosta pressed his ring into the soft red wax, leaving the sybol of his office prominently displayed. "I need one of you to take this to Brother-General Guillaume d'Ambray. Swiftly now."
Hesitantly, the guard closest to Zacosta reached out and took the paper. The other guard cleared his throught. "Sire, might I be so bold as to ask what message is so important that you would ignore your own injuries to deliver it?" Zacosta dropped his smile, his face taking on a severe aspect.
"What message could be that important, you ask?" the Guard was unable to meet the Grandmaster's gaze, even as Zacosta rounded the table and stood inches from him. "Why, the message that God himself entrusted to me! We are to begin a final crusade! A crusade to reconquer the Holy Land from the infidel, bringing The One True Faith back into HIS lands!" The Grandmaster's mad peal of laughter echoed throughout the castle and into the night.
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