de Forez

[Blackoberst]

I, for one, can't wait for the story to be able to continue.

 

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Part III​

Haldor de Barres looked down from his horse onto the battlefield. This truly was the biggest battle of the crusade, probably the biggest ever fought. The Seljuks managed to damage the lines everywhere, but both the French and German lines stood. Haldor put down his visor and attacked. His men, the French cavalry, followed. The sound of houves got louder and louder as it reflected in his helmet, until they had arrived the enemy lines. He heard nothing for some time as the impact of sounds poured into him. The screams of the wounded, the steel clashing on steel, the braking lances and the arrows flying over their heads. Now he was in his element. He had lost his earlier before and now fought with his sword. Only metres away from dying friends, only metres away from his enemies.

"Slow and steady Haldor. Keep calm. Never unleash the beast at once. You know what happened last time. Stay calm. There is no need for anger. Never lose control. Just keep calm..." Like in trance he quietly murmured to himself, repeating it all the time. At the same time he went on killing his enemies with ease. There was just no challenge to him in the enemy lines.
"SHUT UP!" Some of his friends looked strange at him as he shouted. It must have been loud he thought to himself. Not that he cared anymore. He lost the control over himself. Jumping off his horse he took a saracen sword from one of his dead enemies and went on. His surcoat with the French coat of arms already was saturated with blood of the Seljuks, but also his own. An arrow struck his shoulder, he fell back, but got on his feet again fast and went on. He didn't feel any pain as he did this. It always had wondered him how this was possible, but whatever it was, it made him the best warrior in all of Europe.

Now. He saw a cross lying on the ground and stepped onto it as hard as he could. "Damned Church" he said to himself "Bertrand was mine. And you stole my revenge. It was up to me to kill him, not you." He again felt the anger flow through his veins, felt his blood get hot. This time he could control himsef. Haldor went back to his horse. He rode together with what was left of the former glorious knights, certainly not many, towards the main army. They had managed to take care of the right flank, enough to have the Germans and the King hold up long enough to have the German cavalry on the left flank take care of the centre. Now only a few Seljuks remained fighting. The Emperor and the King stood high on their horses looking like old friends. They sure tried to let it look like this, but Haldor knew neither of them really liked the other. The only reason they helped each other was because there was no only way.

But this was not the reason he looked in this direction. The main point was a woman. Yes, there was one, he was surprised as well. Looking a bit closer he found out who it was. Bertrand's whore and her breed. Damn, they were strong. For sons of ten and five they were rather good at what they did. But his view was stuck on Richwara. Again he got one of his daydreams. One of many. He could not remember when he had had none the last years. He had a clear picture in his mind. He touched her. He kissed her. He...

A shout of his friends awoke him from the dream again. It was not like he had to be awaken to win the fight. The small group of Turks was no match to him. He could have killed all of them alone. With his right hand on his back. Blind. On one leg. And they could be on horses and shoot arrows on him. But he had to ride, fight and shout commands at the same time. So he lost his thoughts, and for this he was thankful.

But like the smell of smoke stays in clothes long after the fire has been put out, the memory of a dream remained in his thoughts. Like splitters of a mirror he dared not look into. Was he really the monster they all thought he was? A slayer of his own kin. A desecrator of his own blood?

"The sheep think of the wolf as monster. And I truly am a wolf. A wolf under sheep."

 

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Ok, not as big as it could be, but it can tell you quite a bit about what happened and happens if you read between the lines. For tomorrow I plan a rather comedy update again to get out of this monsters of text and lighten it all a bit. I hope you can live with that.

Blackoberst, welcome on board. That makes us two. I truly want to go on with this story since days, but I still have some ideas I think I can tell without major gameplay. If I make things up that wouldn't happen I'll edit them into the game like I did before. After all, I think my story is more important than the gameplay in this AAR.

 

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Part IV​

Altmark 1167.
"Now that battle sucked."
"One could say so sir."
"You know, it would have been easier if the Styrians had stayed for the battle."
"Or our knights hadn't run into the enemy lines five minutes after the battle begun and been slaughtered there."
"Or if we had used our bows."
"Or our heads in that case."
"But at least nobody of us got hurt."
"Uhm, sir?" The noble looked at his servant.
"Oh, sorry. Nevermind then. But tell me, why didn't you wear an armour the whole crusade?"
"Couldn't afford one."
"You know Heinrich, for a man with your name you're not a very rich guy."
"And you? I heard you got a knock on your head?"
"That's true. But you see." The noble took off his helmet. "This is the Helm of Will. It has been in our family since generations. As long as I wear this helmet, I can't get injuries like a brain damage."
"There might be other reasons for that though."
"What did you say?"
"Oh, I said it must have been expensive."
"How should I know? I haven't bought it."
"Well then, let's go in?"
"Yeah. Strange feeling to be home again."
"Sir, one question. Why have we been on this crusade anyway?" They think for a long time... They still think...

Hours later.
"Nevermind."

"What the hell is that bugger on your shoulder wife?"
"My daughter."
"Your daughter? You cheated on me?!"
"Don't tell me you have been chaste the last two years."
"Uhm, well... B- But it's my duty to keep my dynasty alive!"
"And if I may add sir, you really took that duty serious."
"Shut up Heini, you're not much a use right now."
"And it's my duty to make sure your county still exists when you were away. If this means I have to get more kids, so be it. After all I couldn't know when you return."
"If I may say something sir?" Both looked angrily at Heinrich. "This all wouldn't have happened if you would have been here and enjoyed each other. So please just stop your quarrel and do what all married couples do... Well, other than having disputes."
"Well then, Heini, enjoy your wife!"
"You mean life sir."
"I'm quite sure I said wife."
"But I have none."
"No?"
"No."
"Well then... you! Yeah you!"
"Your Highness?"
"You marry Heinrich."
"I fear that is not possible."
"What do you mean?"
"First, he is too low for me to marry him."
"He is?"
"This is true sir, I am no more than a normal burgher."
"Then why are you my advisor?"
"Because you are a selfish bastard and don't waste more money on that."
"What ya say?"
"I said all advisors of the nobility are bloodsuckers and want to steal your money sir."
"Good. But what is it that you are so much higher than him?" He again turned to the woman.
"I am your sister Willhelm!"
"Oh well, how should I know with that many siblings?"
"It seems your father has been quite like you."
"What did ya say!"
"N-Nothing."
"Tell me!"
"Happy be the man who has siblings."
"Good, good."
"And there is another reason."
"Really?"
"Yes, I'm already married with your neighbour, the count of Anhalt."
"And you can't marry another one? After all, he must not know that."
"He stands in front of you sir."
"Oh, well, you know, I'm just joking."
"I sure hope so!" He leaves.
"Poor Heini." Heinrich starts to cry.
"I will never find a wife."
"Oh, you'll sure do. Sometime in the future we'll find you one."
"Really?"
"Really."


Still Altmark, a few weeks later.
"Heinrich!" Willhelm knocked on the servant's door. "Heinrich get up!"
"What is it sir?" Heinrich still was sleepy, after all it was only a few hours after midnight.
"I know now why we were on that crusade."
"You do sir?"
"Yes, you know Maria?"
"Your wife?"
"Exactly. Well, she's pregnant again."
"Maria- and Josef!"
"What should I do now?"
"Well, now that you already had your traditional pagan celebration after having returned, what about an attack on some minor sheikdom?"
"Wrong AAR."
"I seem not to understand sir."
"Nevermind. And we're no Pagans, we're Germans."
"Well, then..."

September the second, 1169, Marienburg.
"Now that took us long."
"It would have been faster, sir, if we had used the catapults."
"Or our airforce!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!.. Sir?"
"Nevermind. Heinrich, get me the girls. I think I'll convert them personally. Bring them into the chambers!"
"What about the men sir?"
Willhelm looked on Heinrich for a long time. "Are you gay?"

"Oh man, I'm so bored."
"Why sir?"
"You know the girls?"
"Yes sir."
"Well, they're of no use anymore."
"After only one month? The whole county of Marienburg?"
Willhelm nodded.
"Talk about time management."
"And what are we going to do now?"
"Well, no heathens in Poland anymore."
"And we can't go further into Lithuania without making up another steriotype."
"What about the Catholic Poles sir?"
"No, that would get us Britain and France on our backs."
"Britain?"
"Nevermind. We could of course attack Russia. We could call that all Fall Barbarossa! But our tankarmy would probably get stuck in the snow."
"What are you talking about sir?"
"Nevermind. I have a brilliant idea!"
"Yes?"
"We send supplies and manpower into the Spanish Civilwar!"
"Sir?"
"Yes, you're right, the Nationalist nearly have won."
"Sir?"
"Yes, that's it we go back in time!"
"Nationalists? Isn't Spain full of Muslims?"
"Muslims? Well, then, it's still not April. They could still need our help! And we even get some conversions to do! Perfect. Send our airforce Heinrich!"

 

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Snappy dialogue. I always thought CK was lacking in that it didn't have an air force. I'm glad you've decided to rectify that. Just read through the whole thing, very interesting.

 

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Well, thanks. But I didn't decide that, Willhelm did so.

And just to point out, every part until now plays in a different timeline. Part I is the crow timeline (so 1085), and also the mainstory. I just need to give you the second part of it once I can go on with the game to make that clear.

Part II is even more in the future, though you might have already found that out. I will tell it as a whole once I'll go on (yeah, as always. )

Part III plays in 1066, it's rather unimportant as it stands now, but the next part of this story will be important for characterisation and the main plot.

Part IV was invented to have a bit lighter tales. I don't know where I'm going with them or why I did this at all, but it's rather like the former stories, it just wants to be told.

 

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Part V​

Haldor looked at the city of Damascus in front of him. Once the Bavarians had taken it and lost it again. He would not lose it. He would stay here and fight to the last man. Despite the official reason for the crusade, both Kings were more interested in the riches of this city than in saving Jerusalem. This had become clear very early, and many Monks that came with the army had criticised the Kings. However, none of the two wanted to listen, and Haldor was fine with that. Why bother fighting for a faith if you could fight for more interesting things in life?

"May God forgive us our sins." The monk next to Haldor, from earlier battles he knew him as Bouchard, a certainly too merciful man, said. He did not know why a person like him, a pacifist, was on a crusade, but he didn't care. Whatever the reason was, it had nothing to do with Haldor, and when something had not to do directly with Haldor, he didn't care at all about it.
"Oh, he certainly will if you pay the church enough." Bouchard stared angrily at Haldor.
"It is not up to you to question the Holy Fathers thoughts."
"I decide if I question something or not."
"You maybe should question your own deeds then."
"I don't know why."
"If there is only one bit justice in this world, your Lordship" Haldor tried to calm his anger down. He always hated to be called that. One maybe should tell he never was a high noble, certainly not higher than Bouchard was, yet many called him this way, but used it rather as an insult than as title. "you will go to hell very soon."
"Oh, I never doubted I go to hell. But I choose when."

He got distracted from the discussion, by, how should it be different, his curse.
"Bring this woman into my chambers."
"As you wish milord." Suddenly a small hand lay on Haldor's shoulders.
"I will not let you do that."
"Do what?"
"You know the sayings."
"And what are you going to do boy?" Haldor looked at the boy, how was his name? Louis? Whatever his name was, how dared this rat, this son of a whore to speak up to him, the greatest warrior in the whole world?
"Whatever I have to do to stop you."
"Do you want to fight me, boy?" Haldor started to laugh loud and hard, the way he always did. Many of the knights near them started as well.
"No, I want to kill you."
"Then try."

Haldor took out his sword with one swift motion, but Louis was able to block the attack. He even managed to hurt Haldor as he turned away from the next attack to smash his shield into Haldor's unprotected head. Blood ran over the man's brow as he lay on the ground. Louis already was over him and tried to stab down, but with a fast move Haldor was able to kick the boy down and jump onto his feet again. He heard the shouts around him as he did this, it seemed the warriors around him wanted to have some form of entertainment, the more blood would flow, the better.

Although a bit weak from the lost blood, slowly Haldor got angry. This boy had done something nobody should ever dare to do, he had made de Barres angry. This would be his doom. But it wouldn't be an easy one. Damn this boy was good! Better than most mature enemies he ever had. But then again, what did he expect from Bertrand's son?

"You are better than I expected boy. But not very smart, for now you will die." Haldor jumped onto his enemy, with a fast move turned around and broke the shield of his opponent. He kicked the boy down to the earth and already stood above him to do what the boy had failed with him before.

"Don't. I beg you, don't do it. What is he more than a simple boy? He's too young to die? Take me if you want, but let him alive!"
"Off my back you German whore!" Haldor threw Richwara over his back, far into the crowd of people around him. However, this distracted him enough for Louis to escape and be on his legs again when he wanted to turn to the lying body again.
"How have you called her?"
"A German whore, what else is she?"
"Don't talk like that about my mother!" Louis jumped towards Haldor and hit him as hard as he could with his bare fist.
"And you? What are you more than a son of a whore?"
"Says a rapist and slayer of his own kin!"

Haldor smiled as he attacked the boy again. This actually was quite some fun for him, as all good battles were.
"Poor boy, don't you know..." He smashed Louis away with his fist "that I am a wolf?" However, his next attack, although precise and fast, did not hit its target. Louis ducked down and thus escaped the power of Haldor's strike. With a fast move upwards he stabbed through the man's shoulder.
"As am I."

Haldor spitted blood and said with a grimm smile, "You know, you're certainly the best enemy I ever faced. But..." with a fast move he beheaded the boy "your defense needs improvement."

"Get me the girl now!"
"But sir, shouldn't I better get a healer."
Haldor tried to get his sword into the scabbard again, but wasn't able to as he couldn't move his left arm. "You may be right."

 

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Part VI​

Almerich sat in his study in Damascus. Or better he slept after an exhaustive day. He had been in this study three years ago and still knew it as the one of his old friend, the Sheik of Damascus. Why he attacked Damascus then, you ask, dear reader? Well, this is a good question. But let's say it was the only way to afford this crusade over a long term, and this crusade was the only way to keep his vassals calm, which again was the only way to stay Emperor, which again was the only way not to be killed by the inquisition. Sounds pretty confusing, huh? Now this is not the main reason we're here though, even if the point about the inquisition should be important later on. It all has something to do with a special Bavarian event we all know of, but let's not go any further. Future will tell this, but not now.

He awoke from his dreams. It had been nightmares. But they were nothing to what he would face when he woke up. "We're doomed. The whole crusade was badly planned, and now it will end in a disaster." He put his head into his hands. The German General, despite being only eleven years old, had been one of the best warriors they ever had. And now he was dead. Just like his father, like Bertrand. "My friend, it took me all these years to realise how right you were. I should not have started this crusade. And now I don't have you on my side to fight with me." He raised his arms to heaven. "Oh why did you have to die!"

"Almerich?"
"Richwara? How did you come here? I haven't heard you." He suddenly smiled. "Of course I haven't. I forgot for one moment your abilities."
"Which saved your life more than once, if you remember."
"So, what do you want?" She wouldn't remind him of that if there was no reason.
"de Barres."
"Yes?"
"You know what he did yesterday." Almerichs expression got bitter.
"I do."
"I want him dead. Now."
"You know I can't do that."
"Don't lie to me, cousin. It lies in your powers to execute him. He has deserved it."
"Of course he has. But do you know what will happen if I do so?"
"What do I care? He has to die and you know that."
"Listen Richwara, when we started this war we had around thirty thousand men, and the French fifteen thousand. You know how many still live? Twenty thousand of our men and ten thousand French. Five thousand Germans stand in Jerusalem and try to keep it, another five thousand face the enemy in Sinai and our main army stands here in Damascus. Should we lose the city again, we would not be able to retake it. The Seljuks would overrun our fortifications in the whole land and drive us to the sea, if we survived it. Believe me, I know how they fight, it would not be nice for us. And should they take the Holy Land, there would be nothing to keep them from sending their armies to Hungary. Ludwig won't be able to keep it then."
"And?"
"If I execute de Barres, the French King will stop this war and go back to his ships. Should the ten thousand French in Damascus decide to leave, we would stand no chance to keep the city." He raised from his seat. "Please leave now.
"And I thought you loved Louis."
"Like my own son." Almerich had tears in his eyes. He closed the door before Richwara.
"Because he was your kid." Richwara left.

 

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Glad to see the story continuing. Looking forward to more.

 

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I will certainly post at least three more updates this week (I don't know if I post more, I would have to figure out what is worth one then). And I should be able to get the save from my hard disk on saturday and play on.

 

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You wonder why I can post an update this early after school? First, we have only four hours per day because the main part of our classes are in Cambridge (couldn't afford to go with them) and we don't really do anything. Thus I wrote most of this update in school.

Part VII​

Almerich looked down from the main tower of the castle on his defense. The main question was, would it hold? His army had destroyed quite a bit of the walls surrounding Damascus when they first took it, and now that came back to hunt the crusaders. He doubted they would be able to do much more than hold out and should the enemy use any kind of siege equipment, it would only get worse. The mass of his men wouldn't be able to hold the city for really long. But Almerich had a plan.
"Make the knights ready."
"Sir?"
"They will attack the enemy before their archers can be used against us."
"That will kill our whole cavalry."
"I know, Georg. But it's the only way to distract the Seljuks from our walls. The knights will not be of use within the city anyway. And so they could even manage to destroy some catapults and ramms, not to talk about the confusion they will spread in the Turkish lines."
"It's still mad. Without cavalry we will not be able to advance any further."
"It is desperate, that is true. But I doubt we will leave Damascus the next months anyway. It's not as we had a choice in this."
"You come with us then?"
"No and neither will you go. We both will be needed here more."
"And the French?"
"Agreed to the attack."
"So de Barres leads the army?" He spitted onto the ground. "This would at least get us rid off him."
"No, we will need de Barres on the walls. Say what you want, he still is the best warrior we have."
"True. He fights like a demon."
"I doubt there is much difference between these two."
"So who will lead the army then?"
"Von Nordheim will do."
"You don't fear he will betray you?"
"He will have to fight if he doesn't want to die. There will be no place to run once the door is locked."
"So you betray him to prevent him betraying you."

Of course the attack was a failure, but the Emperor already had expected it. At least it had given them the time to order the archers to the walls and this had killed a lot of Seljuks. It still seemed like the Turks would not get less and the two thousand knights had died for nothing, but the Seljuks advance had slowed down over the last few hours. It would still be problematic, but Almerich became confident he could win this in the end. Even if only for a short time. He looked on de Barres' men at the main wall. Where were all the warriors? It still should have been around seven thousand standing there, but he could only make out a few hundred.
"Georg!"
"Yes sir?"
"Where are the Styrians? They should fight with de Barres."
"You don't know? They left this morning."
"They did what?"
"Richwara said she had no reason to stay anymore and would not let her men die in this senseless war. They should be near Jaffa by now."
"So she betrayed me."
"One could say so."
"And de Barres? Will he be able to hold the wall? His men are getting less and less."
"Does your majesty wonder though? The Styrians were around five thousand men. Of the two thousand French nearly none still live as well, they just couldn't hold out. The armies currently are at around five thousand men each. I would try to keep other places though, de Barres seems to be rather good at keeping them at bay."
"Yes, if you look closer you see he keeps them where they are although he is nearly alone." Almerich pointed at a man standing in a mass of Turks. They fell from the walls while the men turned and killed, nearly unopposed so it seemed.


Haldor looked upon the enemies he faced. It seemed the more he killed, the more would come back. They just didn't get less. It was perfect. Just as he liked it. He had thrown away his shield and normal sword since hours and stood there with a huge two handed sword in his hands. One of his few still living companions fell to the ground directly next to him.
"You are no human Haldor. You should have died from your wounds before this battle, and yet you are here and unstoppable. You bleed from wounds everywhere, but they don't seem to even hurt you." But was this true? Was he in fact no human? Or only partially? Come to think of, this very well could be true. After all, a normal man would have died hours ago from his wounds, and yet they rather closed again. Whatever it was, he lived for these moments, for the battlefield, and now he enjoyed it. It was like some dark hunger in him that kept him alive, that let him fight and kill, and he was thankful for it. Slowly, nearly not possible to see first, the Turks got less. He had killed most of them and the rest saw they had no help anymore.
"This is the devil. We can't fight the devil!" He heard the shouts around him as the Muslims ran for their lifes. Should they, he would let none live he could reach.
"No, I'm worse." With one major blow he killed another five of his enemies which fell from the wall into the city. Until now the Seljuks had kept on the main wall and fought Haldor, but he now knew why they got less. He was sure the Christians could keep the city, would he only be able to reach the weakest point of Damascus, a part of the wall was broken there when the French had used slingshots, before the Seljuk main force did.

 

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Layers upon layers. Well written update.

 

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Thanks. New update is in the making. A Willhelm-Heinrich one and rather long. I guess it still takes around an hour to do it.

 

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Part VIII​

Southern France, still 1169.
"So now that we're here, why don't we install the Vichy France?"
"The what?"
"You know, the puppet state in southern France."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but wouldn't we have to be at war with France first and win in it to make them a puppet?"
"You mean we are here without war? How is this possible?"
"Know the sayings sir? Whenever something makes no sense at all, blame the game engine. Became quite popular some years ago. They say it is a quote from some mysterious narrator, but I don't know who he is."
"So you say we have to blame the game engine for this whole AAR?"
"AAR?"
"Nevermind."
"Then we go on to Spain sir?"
"Exactly, send our tanks."
"Tanks?"
"You know, those collosses of steel on wheels..."
"Uhm, how are they supposed to go sir?"
"With a motor of course."
"What is a motor?"
"No motor?"
"I still don't know what you mean."
"Well then, what can we use instead?"
"Maybe we should do it as always and send our knights?"
"Oh common Heinrich, cavalry is sooo First World War... I have it! We use armoured Yaks!"
"What are Yaks?"
"Oh, so we got no Yaks either? Well, it would have been the wrong AAR anyway. Give me some time Heinrich..."

"Heinrich, I have it!"
"You have what?"
"The plans for our tanks! I made one! I proudly represent you, the Tiger. Version 0.1!"
"You did this all by yourself?"
"Oh shut up Heini, I know I'm not the best painter."

"One thing though, sir. How do you think will this things..."
"You mean the tanks?"
"Yes, how will they get over the Pyrennees?"
"Good question. They will just get picked up by the Bismarck which will bring them to Barcelona."
"Bismarck?"
"Huge ship out of steel."
"I don't think we have such a thing sir."
"We have not? Am I supposed to fight this war with swords and shields?"
"Sir, don't you think you overreact?"
"Not at all. Then build one, now!"
"I don't think we can get that much steel sir."
"Then build it out of wood, I don't care!"

"I have a cunning plan Heinrich. We and one part of our army takes the airforce and goes over the Pyrenees, the other one under... Rommel come here!... takes the tanks."
"Actually my name is von Rostock-Mellenberg sir."
"I don't care. Rommel, you take the tanks and go south."
"Tanks?"
"You know, the thing carried by cows..."
"Oh! Of course sir!"

A few days later in the Pyrenees.
"So, here they are. Our new tactical bombers. Now go in... Starting the machines. I fear you have to push it down the hill first, Heinrich."
"Ok sir." He jumps in.
"Starting the machines..."
"Uhm, sir, I don't think we're able to build motors yet."
"Couldn't you have told earlier?" The fly all way down into a massive army around Toledo. For some reason they don't go down earlier.
"Get our parachutes Heini."
"Sir?"
"The quilts back there in the corner. You know, I read quite a lot about none existant winter equipment." They both jump out. The plane crashes into one tower and it falls down after an explosion. The tower falls on the army of Sevilla.
"Hah, got them with their own weapons!"
"How did you do this sir? Why did it explode?"
"One could say they demolished it themselves. But it would make more sense when the oil within the plane exploded. I tried if we could fly with edible oil. Didn't work."

Meanwhile in Catalonia.
"You! Build new tanks out of wood and go under them. We will trick the enemy that we are more than we really are!"
"But sir, wouldn't we be far to slow if we run with the wood around us and thus don't trick anyone?"
"You forget they are pulled by bullocks. You should be fast enough."
"Yes sir!"

In the Sevillian camp...
"They're too many! We can't win. Even if they run around in some strange forms of carriage." They decide to run.

"Sir, we win on all fronts. Rommel said he could trick the enemy."
"Perfect. All goes according to plan. In a few days we will have won the civil war!"

"Bad news sir."
"What is it Heinrich?"
"Rommel could advance into Murcia."
"But that's good."
"I'm not done yet. The whole army is stuck in the swamps..."
"That's bad. But nothing the glorious German army can't win."
"...And the Sevillian cavalry has attacked them with forches and destroyed the army."
"Oh crap. Maybe we should not have only relyed on tanks. But at least we're winning here."

Suddenly there is a huge flame in the German military camp and Alberic appears.
"Lenin has sent me. I shall stop you."
"Lenin? Isn't Stalin head of state when the SCW takes place?"
"I don't care. I come from hell to stop you."
"And the French and British are here as well?"
"No, they both decided 'why help anarchistic scum in their event'."
"See Heinrich?"
"But I won't need them anyway." He takes his sword and hits Willhelm on the head.
"Hahaha. You can't hurt me. I wear the helm of will!"

The most famous helm of will.

"Crap. Then I have to use the special abilities Ad showed me."

"Balrog, eh? Flame of Udun!"
"That won't work sir."
"What do you mean? I am NOT Gandalf the Grey?!"
"Unfortunatly not."
"Then, horn of Gondor."
"First," Alberic got a bit bored about the two not caring about him "the horn has no use against a Balrog, second. I am none. I'm a demon from hell."
"Then... I'll use the German horn."
"OH MY GOD, SIR, KEEP YOUR PANTS UP!"
"Silly mortals." Alberic kills Willhelm with one fast strike with his flaming sword.
"See you in hell Heinrich." Alberic leaves.

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So we finally get rid of Willhelm? Maybe. But maybe he or one of his descendants will have an appearence later in this AAR when I again am bored enough to write an update full of crappy historical jokes. You have been warned, this could go on.

And I didn't know there was a Mellenberg, but after looking into Wikipedia it's a part of Hamburg, so not that far away from Rostock. :rofl:

 

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No comments? Nobody likes my crappy humour.

Ok, I decided to make two parts. Better for the story I guess. I don't really know if it's worth it, but I hope so. Together it would be quite huge, this way it's rather short.

I personally think part X will be the best one until now. Though that doesn't mean too much of course.

 

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Part IX​

"Haldor what is it? You look behind your shoulders all day. If I wouldn't know better I'd say you feel hunt." Haldor awoke from his daydreams and kept looking on the path as he rode further.
"Maybe I am." Charles, one of Haldor's best friends and second in the army bursted out in laughter.
"My friend, this is an hunt, but we are the hunters." He grinned. "You don't want to tell me Haldor the Great, the hero of Damascus, is afraid of anything. I have seen you fight my friend, hell, I fought you myself in duells, there is no reason to be scared for you."
"I know. And yet." Charles looked worried on his friend.
"If it helps you, I will stay near you. No man will be able to hurt you as long as I am near."
"Yes, no man." Haldor said with a low voice. He wasn't sure if Charles had heard or not, but he didn't really care about either. He took out a small black leather bag from under his clothes, directly at his hard and pushed the leather away as he took the dagger into his right hand. How pathetic, he thought to himself, to wear the weapon that is supposed to transfix it directly next to his heart. The razor sharp blade was corrugated and around fifteen centimetres long. The dagger's knob had an iron crow on him and her wings built another guard under the shaft. Haldor still remembered Richwara's words perfectly well. "You might be a wolf, my friend, but I am the crow that ripps the flesh from your bones when you're dead. Should you show weakness, if only for a small moment, I will be there to kill you. Be afraid Haldor de Barres, for I am your murderer." His dreams linquished as he heard a noise from behind him. Haldor laughed nervously as he saw it was a crow flying away.
"Tell me my friend," d'Anjou interrupted Haldor's laughter, "how did you survive that battle in Damascus? It must have been thousands of Seljuks you killed single handly." Haldor was happy to get distracted with the chat and Charles new that. It wasn't the first time they talked about this.
"You tend to overdraw their mass. But they were quite a few, yes"
"Quite a few!" Charles started again his hard laughter. "That one was good. How you survived is still a miracle to me."
"Believe me, I don't know. It is one to me as well."
"God truly must love you."
"Maybe, or maybe someone else." Haldor answered with a dark smile.
"And then the King makes peace and we can go home." It was obvious he didn't like this theme too much and rather went over to something he could speak more freely about. He couldn't hide his dissapointment about the peace though.
"We had what we wanted. We kept Jerusalem."
"And could have taken the whole holy land. But no, we make peace and go home." He spitted.
"We were too few. The Seljuks had lost around thirty thousand in that battle, but only around ten thousand of our men stayed in Damascus."
"And those ten thousand men were the bravest in the whole Christianity."
"The bravest man runs away in face of superior enemíes."
"You wouldn't."
"Maybe I'm just too stupid."
"No, you just tend not to use your brain very often." The young man grinned.
"And it hasn't hurt me." The elder smiled back.
"Not yet." Suddenly Charles expression got sad. Did he know more than Haldor thought he would? And was he really to trust?

 

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I like those Tiger tanks. Was that why the Seljuks got beaten?

 

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As the Tiger was invented by Willhelm in 1169, while the siege of Damascus and the war against the Seljuks ended in 1167, this isn't possible.

The tanks were used against Sevilla later on.

The Seljuks lost as they couldn't get any more men into the war. Basically the Germans and French could muster around 150 000 -160 000 men while the Seljuks had around 80 000. That means the Seljuks lost around half their army in Damascus and battles in Hungary. It would be mad to let this war go on, even though the Germans would have trouble getting anywhere in Persia because of high attrition.

Edit: I don't want to post another post concerning my thoughts about this part, so I think I'll rather tell you here a bit. First, I had this end in mind when I first 'created' Haldor's character. Not exactly what happens, but nearly. This means I had this post in mind for the last month or so, quite long, isn't it?

It also is the last part of this chapter. I think it fits as it stands and personally take it as the best part of the whole story until now. It also will be the last of this week I think. There are three sentences I really like in it, but I'll talk about them later.

Well, tell me what you think about it. Comments, critics etc. are most welcome.

 

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Part X​

The next days passed by Haldor's mood got better. He still would duck whenever he saw a shadow or heard a strange noise behind him, but at least he could sleep again. Knowing that guards were in front of his door and patroling in the garden, and with Charles sleeping in the next room, there couldn't be any danger for him, could it? Of course this only meant he was save when he was in his own chambers. But since his chambers were not in Paris itself but in a villa a few kilometres away, he had built it for himself years ago to escape the stress of living in the city, he would have to go for around half an hour to get there first. And now this villa caused him more stress than staying in the city ever would. Funny how he once was feared in these streets, and now was the scared one. He truly had gone from the hunter to the hunted. He went faster and faster, still ducked away from every shadow while trying to stay near to light, to houses. What had this noise been? Was he followed? He didn't really know anymore. He only had a slight feeling, but nothing real.

Haldor rushed into his villa and upstairs. He already was out of breath when he arrived there, something not that common with a trained warrior as Haldor was, but he didn't really care.
"You come early my friend." Charles' smile soon fainted as he saw Haldor's expression. "Again?" de Barres nodded. "You know, if you told me what scares you, I could be of much more help for you." Yes, but he couldn't. How could he tell he, the man that was called the great and hero of Damascus, ran away from a woman, yes, the shadow of a woman? The boy admired him. Would he destroy the picture in the young man only because he was a bit frightened? No. He had lived his life on his own, and he could do so now too.
"It's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing."
"Please go out of my way Charles. I'm stressed, that's all. I just want to be alone." This was more or less the truth. However, d'Anjou stayed insistent, as he always had been.
"I think it's better you are not too much alone." Haldor knew the words he had added silently. "Your paranoia is strong enough when you don't think of it. I don't know what you'll do if you don't get distracted from it." Somehow this made de Barres angry. Often enough he didn't really know why he was or what caused his choleric attacks, but he could get dangerous in such cases, and Charles' knew that all too well.
"Go out of my way." Haldor raised his voice "You might be my friend," he now drew his sword "But this will not hinder me to kill you."
"G-Go ahead." Charles obviously was surprised, even though he knew his friend well enough, of his reaction and raised his arms. He knew in such cases it was better not to make Haldor more angry than he already was.

Haldor went into his chambers and lightened a candle. He gasped as he saw Richwara sitting on the study's desk.
"How did you come here? The guards must have mentioned you."
"One cannot see a shadow in the dark, one cannot hear what makes no sound."
"And yet I thought you would be smarter." He smirked. "Had you tried to kill me when I hadn't seen you, you would have had a chance. But so I don't have to fear you." This was true. Haldor was probably the best fighter in the known world. One couldn't attack him and survive. And only high superior numbers ever had managed to wound him.
"You are mistaken my friend. I know your weakness." She stood up and threw down her clothes.

A dark lust, a hunger, grew in Haldor as it always had. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his head. It was as hundreds of voices would speak to him in languages he didn't understand. In tongues not human. His blood rushed as the tension started to take him over. It had been only a matter of seconds, but to him it seemed like hours. An endless struggle within him continued on and on. It was a fight he could not win and he knew it. He never had been able to, as much as he fought it. And this time it was different. This time he wanted it. He didn't know why, but he wasn't absolutly passive. He didn't see himself doing something he never wanted, as in a bad dream, as it had been so many times before. This time he was there. He had the control. It was him, not someone else who took Richwara and pressed her on his bed. Again something spoke to him. "Do it. You know you want it. You always did. Don't fight it." But it was different. He was not like the child that raised his hands against it. This time he spoke back, stronger than ever and his respond was a yes.

He didn't feel ashamed anymore for his feelings, for his deeds. It didn't matter. What had been, what would be, it was unimportant. Only one thing mattered, the now. This moment, this feeling, Haldor couldn't describe it. It was more of a mixture. All his hate, on others, but mostly on himself, his love, for Richwara, yes, as strange as it may seem, at this moment he loved the woman, for his sister, his mother, who both had died so many years ago, slain by his own hands, the dolour of their fate, but also his own, it all admixed into one big feeling, the feeling of being alive, and being thankful for it. It was like a huge darkness that surrounded him, like an ocean that rolled over him, flooded him and ripped him into the deep, that drowned him. And he didn't fight it anymore. He wanted to sink, to fall into this darkness, and never see the light again. To sleep into this forgiving wave of sadness in himself.

But he opened his eyes again. He didn't know why, but his body wanted to live. He wanted to fall, but his body kept him save. He looked into Richwara's face at this moment, and she smiled, the eyes full of love. Crying, sobbing he searched for something he wouldn't dare to find in the face. He didn't care for how it looked like, this didn't matter anymore. For the first time in all these years, yes, for the first time in his mature life, he felt truly happy again. And what he searched for, he found it. Her face was full of compassion, but through it he saw another one. His sister's face looked at him, the with same expression. The same expression she had had before he killed her. And there was the silent "I forgive you" in the room he had searched for so many years. This, however, lasted only a few seconds.

Then Richwara's face drew hard again. Like sculptured of stone, her face got stern. Where compassion had been, was now only a bitter anger. A hot sudden pain exploded in Haldor's chest as the dagger drilled into his heart. Richwara showed for a last time the smile Bertrand had loved on her the first time he saw her. The smile Haldor never had thought he would see it. The smile that was described as cat like. But it was not only sweet, as he had imagined it to be, a strong bitterness lay within it. Haldor never had been able to imagine what others felt. Now he did. And it was worse than he ever thought it would be. At this time he felt he deserved what he got.
"You lived like a rat and now you die like one." Richwara's words were the last thing before he took out the dagger and stood up. Haldor fell on the ground. She took her clothes and went away, turning only back for one short moment when Haldor shouted, after spitting a swallow of blood. "As much as I hated your husband, he was true in one thing. You really are more dangerous than the whole Seljuk army."

Richwara turned to the open window, jumped from the balcony and was gone before the guards, of which Haldor had been captain for the last fifteen years and thus already knew him perfectly well, who wisely hadn't interrupted the marshal as he obviously had a lady visitor, came to find him lying dead in his room. The balcony was open, but Richwara was not to find.

So died Haldor de Barres, the hero of Damascus, the invincible, the victor of thousand duells, the man who wouldn't die, how many wounds he had, from the hands of a woman.

 

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De Barres dead? Well I suppose he did deserve it, still, he was an amusing character. The update before that did a fine job of blending CK, LOTR, and Panzer Tigers, very amusing. Hope you keep up the good work, they're all very interesting contrasts.