Chapter 01 -The Arrival (Bottles and Women First)
I had never been here before but still I knew: this is the place. It was dark and bitter cold – it seemed I arrived in the middle of a late thunderstorm. Or at least from what I know, thunderstorms are not at all usual in the middle of October. Even in a shithole like this. My vision was blurred because of the weather or maybe as a side-effect of the Shift, I did not know – still I could see the grim walls of the castle of Toledo dead ahead of me. I looked at the date: 14th October 1399. It was a strange, yet familiar feeling somehow. „So it begins.”
I knew the others were also creeping around. I did not know them very well, but I did not have to anyway: it was more than enough to know they were there as well, somewhere, all quite similar to me: prowling in the night, looking for their prey. Of course they were quite different from me and from each other: a few of them I knew better, others I had no knowledge of at all. Some of them preferred a fair fight, while others would always stick to the ways of the shadows. Some were true masterminds of the Sytem, others mere settlers of a new dimension. But first of all, they stood no chance this time. It has been decided, even before it began - I was here for the first time, yet I had been here numerous times. I knew the drill. And I planned to truly tilt the board this time.
Well, in the end, it was not entirely my fault that things unfolded otherwise.
I reached the castle in no time, and tricking the guards was child's play for me anyway. I knew the others did not hold off themselves too. Setting off without delay is critical if you are to make any success in a competition like this – also getting into the bedroom of unsuspecting victims in the middle of the night offers some other... opportunities as well. I looked for the Royal Chambers and found it quite easily. King Enrique of the House of Trastamara was sleeping there and had absolutely no clue that he and his realm were just about to lose all their independence (and sanity, for that matter) to a simple adventurer: to a wanderer of the Shift, who would value those not more than a beer at the bar at the corner of the street. Unfortunately for the people of the land, there were no bars at all in medieval Castile, so I had nothing better to do than usurping the role of the king and challenge the other Shifters for superiority. We all knew: there can be only one in the end.
The court recognized next to nothing about the change of guard. Well, they were at first of course a bit surprised by the sudden change in the king's behaviour itself, but after some swift executions and banishments those who were still around somehow learned not to fuck with me... well, with King Enrique anymore. I had not been considered a veteran Shifter before but taking the role of a monarch and using him as puppet for my goals – that was absolutely the game of my type.
In the next few weeks I made some changes in the way the Castilian Crown treated its subjects – appointed some capable guys as court advisers for the king, and in general tried to make my... well, His Majesty's grip on the country a bit stronger than it had been before. Time was not a factor for us – we all had our special suits to protect us from the dimension of time during our... expeditions. Suits us well, I have to admit.
As news started to arrive from all of Europe, I could more or less determine where the other Shifters might had landed at: like all hell got loose in a second, wars broke out between countries that used to be friends for ages, century long alliances were broken and new ones between nations vying for power since time immemorial were signed. Great powers of the continent melted away in the hands of previously unknown duchies. I was always truly amazed by this... turmoil. That is why one becomes an adventurer like this in the first place I guess.
But I did not want to be left behind, and being on the offenive is the best defense anyway, so I looked around for targets and quickly found the petty Kingdom of Granada just on my... our southern border. The Sultan had no real allies, and I suspected the Shifter taking control of the Maghred would not object at all. The campaign was swift and glorious, the (former) lands of Granada fell into my... our hands within weeks, and I quickly ordered the annexation of them into the Kingdom.
I was just about to usurp the throne of the Kingdom of Aragon when ill news reached Toledo – a newborn child was born to their stupid king without my permission, thus claiming their lands „to be protected for future generations if the king happens to die without an heir” became pretty much impossible. I was furious and had the messenger executed (among several unfortunate fellas standing around idle). That was not to be expected. Nor the child. I came here to lead a glorious charge through the very heart of Europe, to change the direction history takes in this sad dimension of reality for ever, and then a pathetic fat fuck sitting on a ruined throne tries to screw me over in a way like this...?! Although I wanted to save it for more cheerful moments, I had to take a sip from the spirit I managed to smuggle through the Shift-Control. I saw the borders shrinking around me – and not only because the spirit was quite strong. I saw all the small, independent lands falling under foreign control and I became claustrophobic. Being claustrophobic usually makes me desperate. Being slightly drunk makes me even more desperate and for that, several hudreds of thousand of human beings payed with their lives. But that was something nobody has suspected to happen. Nobody, maybe except for me.
Retiring courtiers in Castile at their Pensioner Ceremony
Taking a quick glance on the map I always had at me I saw the Kingdom of Britanny still holding out being sandwiched between the English, the French and some greedy Venetians shipping their „democracy” to every possible places around the seas – maybe to even more places they should... But that was really not the task at hand at that time.
Quickly I had King Enrique declaring war on the poor Bretons, claiming to be intervening in a war I do not remember anymore – and when I got news about French troops advancing upon our armies I was not surprised at all. However when I saw the Burgundian colours behind the French banners I became a bit afraid, to be honest – a thing some courtiers payed with their lives for once again. That was also the time when things went wrong in the first place.
I had some rough nights in my hidden chambers at those times, and at some point I was feeling that my journey here will come to an end way too soon. I consumed many candels, bottles of wine and even more sluts during that campaign but the situation was only improving in a really slow pace. There was of course the matter of the Pyrenees, that which neither us, nor the French could cross without any serious casualties being inflicted upon ourselves by the other. However the enemy Shifters had a workaround for this by gaining acces for their armies through the lands of Aragon – a feature I had no hope to counter at that time because of my former... impolite actions towards that fat fuck they claimed to be their king.
What the enemy did not know however, was that the fierce mounted warriors of Granada did not just disappear with the fall of their country – instead I had them enlisted into our ranks, bolstering the capabilitites of our armies beyond imagination. After many skirmishes which in fact lasted for years my envoys were finally successful in bribing the Fat Fuck of Aragon into allowing my armies making operations through „his lands” as well. (He is going to pay that gold back with interest, I can promise that – and I accept fertile lands as interest, for that matter.) And that was the point when I almost won the war – I had the French and Burgundian armies massacred, trampled under the hoofs of our charging cavalry, but then... then the stupid king of the French had to ruin everything by dying without a goddamn heir.
The French and Burngundian troops are about to be annihilated by the Andalusian cavalry
That was the second time I almost made a back-Shift, because I was quite close to getting a stroke – a condition that could be hardly treated in my own dimension let alone in this godforsaken world of sorry peasants led by even more sorry Shifters. I needed a full cellar of nice Iberian wine and a full brothel of even finer Andalusian girls to get over with my sudden lethargy – meanhwile our exhausted troops, out of supplies, were seeking refuge on home ground, being pursued by wretched Imperial troops pouring in from the east, claiming to protect „their subjects” after that corpse of an Emperor, child's toy of his Shifter was elected King of France somehow.
I had little hope left and was spending most of my time in the brothel or in the cellar. My powers over King Enrique were dwindling because of me drowning in alcohol and fornication, and because of that he even had some clear moments, first time in years. Sadly enough that did not serve him well (nor me, to be honest), as during one of these sober days he decided to leave for the front to encourage his troops against the enemy – he promptly died soon after he arrived there by a French archer leaving me with even more desire for wine and women, as all I got to influence then were his two children, both well below the age of fifteen. In the meantime the stupid Imperials were besieging Bilbao, a quite insignificant fort to the north, not realizing that it would take ages for them to finish it with my generals defending the walls.
The Shifter of Castile among his concubines /Unknown painter - oil, canvas, cca. 1412/
When I had exhausted myself with all the possible whores I could harvest from Andalusia (while the Imperials were still trying to fill the moats of Bilbao all the way up to the walls with their own dejecta), I was beginning to wonder if there was possible to create cyan capsules by medieval methods. That was the time when the
unexpected happened – with all the Imperial troops still chasing Basque peasant girls in the Pyrenees in a moment of confusion the Shifter in control of the corpse of the Emperor turned on Poland. It was a country that had become quite significant in the last few years while I was occupied with my other commitments towards... the fresh flowers of the Andalusian plains. With this move I was spared by the burden of occupying Vienna myself, a thing I was more than thankful for since the city was quite far from my current area of operations.
Still a few years had to pass before my new puppet, King Carlos I could sign the peace treaty with the Imperials – he (or more like me) gained vast territories in Southern France, which are going to serve us well in the future. And not only because it helps with the encirclement of the Fat Fuck just to the east of my Kingdom.
With all that being done, I could finally return to my... girlfriends while I let Carlos rebuild the counrty from the wreckage 10 years of constant war had turned into. To pass the time between the bottles and the concubines, I played darts using a quite expensive portrait picturing the Venetian Doge, Enzo Priuli himself.
