The Man From Carcosa
”The Decimation of Etruria and the Rise of Carcosa”, part Eleven of the Secret History of the World series, authored by Father Giovanni, Miskatonic University Press, First Print on Eight of August, Anno Domini One Thousand Eight Hundred and Eighty Eight.
Eight Hundred and Eighty Eight.
One hundred and three years since Pepin the Hunchback, firstborn son of the legendary Karl Karling, had united the warring kingdoms of Europe and been crowned Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, by Pope Alexander II the Gentle.
An Empire, the size of which had not been seen in Europe since the Fall of Rome.
Yet Mortal Men are ever predictable.
Paranoia and Pride, Ambition and Avarice, Lust and Gluttony.
Base instincts, that drive Men and Women regardless of country, creed or colour of blood.
A Great Empire, thus mired in politics and infighting.
Untold numbers of Heathens or Heretics could yet draw breath, for the Bastion of Christendom gazed largely inward.
In that one hundred years, great dynasties have risen and fallen.
Some, grown to great power and others, cast down by fate, by luck, by their mortal brothers.
Some murdered for land.
Some for power.
Some for the unfathomable plots of
Eldritch-Horrors-That-Weave-Their-Webs-In-The-Abyss things best never mentioned.
Thus it was, that in the Summer of Eight Hundred and Eighty Eight,
That-Which-Should-Be-Barred-From-Reality the Doge of Carcosa, Hastur the Sixth, prepared to unleash his wrath on the latest enemy of Carcosa.
To strike down the last rival Merchant Republic within the Holy Roman Empire.
Great flocks of Messenger Birds covered the Skies of the Empire as agents and ambassadors of
The-King-Garbed-In-Yellow Carcosa plied the movers and shakers of the Empire directly.
Carcosa would move to War.
But it would do so while preparing for the worst.
Alliances, old and new, renewed once more and reinforced with silver tongue or golden purse.
Favors bartered for with flesh or blood.
Florence, thus isolated.
The first strike would be at Noli.
Bordering Nice, it was critical fortress, controlling the supply route into Italy proper, that had to be removed from Florentine control.
Mustering the Republican Levies, supported by a legion of Hasturian Pike, nearly fifteen thousand
Slavering-Fleshbeasts-Spawned-From-Madness proud Carcosan soldiers set out to take the field against their Florentine cousins.
The writing was clear on the wall.
Seeing the vast
horde of horrors lines of the Carcosan Army, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other, Florence could do no more than sue for peace.
It could not win this fight.
And while the surrender of Noli had bought time for Florence, it was merely a delaying action.
A delaying action that might provide enough time for the de Medicis to find sympathetic ears.
A hope that other Princes, perhaps His Imperial Majesty, Dimitri the Second of House Dez Neigh, or most of all, Pope Sergius the Third, channeling the divine will of the Heavenly Father, would intercede and demand the Doge of Carcosa to cease
Its His hostility and call off
Its His armies.
It was not to be.
In the Noble and Royal Courts of Imperial Princes, past-potential allies, made their apologies and refused to provide aid. A bad Harvest. Trouble with Bandits.
Prior Engagements
In the Imperial Court, the Emperor cited precedent and law, and declined to intercede in
yet another ever present squabbling of Princes.
In Eternal Rome, in the Lateran Palace, Florence received a cold welcome.
With the Papal Court filled with ambassadors and courtiers wearing yellow and black.
The Vicar of Jesus Christ, plied by gifts and compliments, a firm friend to the
Flesh-Suit-Puppeted-By-A-Violation-Of-Reality Doge of Aquitaine, whose virtues were extolled by an army of Carcosan diplomats, is said to have frowned and refused to listen any claims of Carcosan wrong-doing.
No Aid. Not from an Imperial Prince, Not from a Foreign Saviour, Not from God.
Proof yet again, that Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment.
Etruria Delenda Est.
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Week 6 recap here, maybe? Pictures too?