I definitely agree with you Marku.
DLV made me addict to this game, and I never succeeded to move to another mod/era...
;)
I definitely agree with you Marku.
DLV made me addict to this game, and I never succeeded to move to another mod/era...
;)
Exile (Part IV)
Chapter CXXX : Punishment
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-52-02-48.jpg:violin1: !!!Medieval Music to listen!!!:innocent2
Current world...
Aide memoire:
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-51-27-07.jpghttp://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-51-32-96.jpg
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
It was time to strike again now, and the exhausted soldiers knew it.
We were ready to eat Leon, and we should be quick.
I ordered to kill the prisoners, but to keep only the Rey alive. The first massacre…
Leon was 5 miles away, and the Spanish deserters would have surely reached the city to warn their people. I ordered a forced walk. Despite their tiredness, the soldiers never complained. They were proud and would like to end the work, to achieve the victory.
Before twilight, we could discern the city walls at the distance. The soldiers roared of pleasure, thinking about the girls, the gold and the food waiting for them.
However, the Spanish didn’t give up and closed the doors. We didn’t succeed to enter and were forced to camp outside. It was a bitter night. We didn’t have the opportunity to celebrate the outstanding victory.
The Spanish dared to insult us from their walls, and their diplomats refused to let us the right to enter. They didn’t seem affected by the capture of their King. Absolute nonsense…
I spat in a camp fire that night, making the promise to punish such arrogance.
They knew they were over, and still refused to give in to me.
They were knuckleheads.
They were lost.
It was their last night…
Before dawn, we had already prepared more than fifty ladders. They couldn’t cope. They were just a few militias to protect the city.
Their fate was not glorious. At cockcrow, we attacked. They were overwhelmed and soon enough, the French opened the doors. My army was ready and flooded in the city.
The second massacre…
They couldn’t resist. The French soldiers spread terror and I didn’t prevent them. I thought those evil Spanish deserved such a punishment, after betraying France so many times.
I wasn’t very focused about the Spanish people. I was much more about Clara.
I was there for her. I made the entire move and faced great dangers to see her.
However, something in the air said she wouldn’t like to see me…
Right, she tried to flee the city. For a moment, I feared that she would succeed to avoid my sword once more. However, when I heard the rale of a beast at the distance, I knew she had been captured.
Some of my men brought her in front of me. I smiled when she was thrown in the floor.
She didn’t stand up.
She knew what was going to happen.
She was aware of her crime.
She would pay for it.
I didn’t touch her, as she was weeping in the mud, her clothes torn off.
I just had a word:
- “Get that hideous dog away from me.”
My heart was beating strongly. Even if I was supposed to be a Heretic, it seemed that their God was giving me all the cards to play successfully.
My laugh afraid me…
Everybody was partying all around that night. I wasn’t.
I was thinking.
Thinking about Margit and my revenge.
Thinking about the old and wicked dotard Vermundo.
Thinking about Clara and her fate.
Thinking about me, Sybille and Colin. About our future…
For a week, I kept Vermundo and Clara prisoned in the same little cage, in the city grand place. My soldiers were vomiting and peeing on her. Some others were throwing them some revolting filths.
After two days, it was difficult to remember they were human.
I stopped the show at the end of the week, happy and satisfied to see that cruel people do not manage cruelty better than others. I was still full of hatred against Vermundo and his monster daughter.
Vermundo because he betrayed the Kingdom several times, because he killed some of my loyal vassals, but most particularly because he changed the mind of my first son Philip, because he encouraged him to rebel against me, because he offered him some troops. In fact, he was the responsible of the dismemberment of the French Kingdom.
Clara because she was the assassin of my love, which was much more than anything else. I couldn’t stand to see her. She was the absolute evil and seemed to gather in my mind all the nausea I could have.
I needed her to die…
I needed them to suffer.
I needed it so much, so deep.
That night, I didn’t sleep. I went through the cell Clara and Vermundo had been thrown in, with two of my men. Two men without feelings…
The cell stank as death.
It was appropriated.
Clara was sleeping when Vermundo was praying, still awake.
I didn’t let him finish his useless prayer. I ordered my men to take her dad and to make him lying on a wood table, on his back.
When my men tied his member and body in the table, Clara began to scream. Useless, as prayers.
Vermundo lost his nerves when he saw my old Durandal, and pissed as an old senile dotard. He was frightened. However, I finally decided not to spoil the jewel with the blood of shame. I just sat in a chair and ordered my men to do the job.
One by one, they broke each bone of the old King.
Fingers, toes, hands, arms, feet and legs.
Clara didn’t find the strength to scream again, after having vomited twice.
Vermundo lost consciousness before to lose his last leg.
He had been courageous…
When I strike the final blow, his head rolled on the floor, and stopped in front of Clara.
- “Sign of the fate…” I slowly whispered, in a silent of death.
That scene had reminded me the death of Louis. Blood blood blood.
I was disgusted, but avenged.
Vermundo had paid his debt.
Another creature deserved his proper one.
As premiminaries, I ordered to hang the members and trunk of Vermundo above Clara.
All the night, the blood flowed on the witch that killed my love.
She was washed for the last time.
The morning, when I came to assess her state, her hair had turned white.
But unfortunately, she was still alive…
And so Philippe has become the beast he once swore to destroy.
In any case the aar continues to be excellent and after more than, what is it now 2 years right? I am still checking every week to see if you have updated. Keep up the great work.
Hi wvswem,
I'm really glad you are still there.
After a long long trip in some exotic lands, I'm back and hopes to finish that bloody long story. :)
You deserve it, more than anybody.
Thanks a lot....
Exile (Part V)
Chapter CXXXI : Goodbye my "love"
An de Grâce 1230 AC.Kingdom of Spain.
The Duchy of Leon.
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-52-02-48.jpg:violin1: !!!Medieval Music to listen!!!:innocent2
Current world...
Aide memoire:
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-51-27-07.jpghttp://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...1-51-32-96.jpg
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
I winked to my little Sibylle, before to look a last time at the boat, alone and quiet in the middle of the lake.
I bent my bow, and shoot at the boat. The same moment, my son Colin did the same.
We, like most of my soldiers, watched the two arrows, twinkling in the dark of the evening.
Both of them reached their goal, the boat.
A scream over-heard came instantly from the target.
Clara.
It was her chatiment. Watching at the flames propagating in the boat, I reminded our last talk:
- “If you had killed Margit, the fire is going to burn you.
If you hadn’t, the water will swallow you up.
Aren’t you lucky, you have the choice to be innocent?”
I said to Clara, with an evil smile.
- “But you have no choice to live…
Sale chienne.”
I added with the finest irony.
I knew she wasn’t able to swim.
When the flames swallowed the little boat, we heard her last cries of agony.
She finally burnt.
I was right…
But it didn’t make me smile. I was sad, thinking about Margit, my love, my young years, the strength of the youth, and my naivety.
That day, I understood why I never died, why I succeeded to stay alive, despite all the people eager to kill me.
I had one last duty.
The duty to erase the name of all the cruel people I met in my life, of all the scourges I undergone.
In other words, the Pope Bonifacius that ordered the Crusade against Paris as the first one of my list.
And then, all was clear in my mind. The real problems came from the Crusader states, where the Pope found its strength, where the religion reached its fanatic heights.
I should destroy that Kingdom, and die…
It was my fate.
I knew it since the beginning.
I needed to die in the sand, after making my people free.
It was vital.
I sweated all the night, that idea coming again and again, each time more powerful in my dreams. Some voices were crying, some other ordering me… I was ready.
More than ever, I felt that I had found a proper end to conclude my old and hectic miserable life.
My fate…
At the end of the winter, I learnt from some of my scouts that a rescue army came from Burgos. It was time to move, and to leave that stinking city.
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-00-57-91.jpg
Before to leave, I ordered to burn the Church of the city. I would like to send a clear message to the Pope. I would like to make him angry. I would like to prepare a warm meeting between us.
I laughed when the great cross broke in the floor, followed by the rest of the building.
My soldiers didn’t say anything. They were used with my behavior and had lost their confidence in God since the Crusade launched against Paris.
Paris.
The capital of the Spanish Kingdom was no more than a giant graveyard, burnt to the roots.
I decided to go South, in order to avoid Burgos and the rescue army.
I didn’t want anymore to battle against those stupid Spanish. I had enough. I had the blood I wanted.
My goal was to join the French territories I loved so much. I knew the risks. I knew that Philip probably turned the people mind against me, nevertheless I was confident. I was leading a powerful army, and the people surely didn’t forget me.
The walk was long, and difficult. The Spanish burnt the villages before we could reach them. We lost some of our supplies, and the winter was tough in the Castellans Mountains.
However, we kept our morale and crossed the difficulties like a boat in a storm. The only quiet times I could enjoy were with my little family. The night, I used to release all the stress and to enter another word, without any fears and dangers. I enjoyed talking with Colin, as Sibylle spent most of her time with Hensel. Colin was eager to learn, eager to revenge the Kingdom he never had the opportunity to protect.
Eager to meet the Pope…
Colin was 22, young and strong. He was influenced by my cruelty and believed, despite my advices, that being powerful meant to give up any feeling.
What could I say?
All my life, I tried to make people happy and I never succeeded. The only victories against the foes had been won thanks to hatred, not love and friendship…
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-03-22-30.jpg
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-03-26-23.jpg
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-03-30-73.jpg
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-03-35-16.jpg
At least, we crossed the Ebro. The Spanish finally refused to have a fight, understanding we were going to leave their remote and devastated Kingdom. And indeed, they had better to do, as the word spread that the Jihad launched against Medina had been successful, and that the Moors reconquered the Holy city from the German hands.
The Moors would surely expand more and more and benefit from this prestigious victory which would increase the moral of the Arabs.
I wasn’t focused about that new. I was back in France, and it meant so much that I organized some celebrations, on the other side of the Ebro.
http://i760.photobucket.com/albums/x...4-09-22-29.jpg
We soon learnt that Pamplona was still French. As expected, when we entered the fortress, we discovered that the local French lords allied with those same Spanish that they fought for years, because of some secret agreements Philip did there.
I didn’t succeed to be upset. They were just blind followers.
I stayed in the fortress few days. Enough to feed my troops, hire some more with the Spanish gold, and take a little rest. We could feel that we weren’t very welcome there. The trend had turned.
And there I learnt the terrible news…
Paris had been sacked.
Paris had been conquered by the bloody crusaders, who killed, looted and raped good French people.
I hated them.
I hated them so much.
They were lucky, protected in the North, sided by hundreds of armies, but I knew one man that would have better to be there too, instead of enjoying the fat and warm life of an Italian countryside. I wouldn’t miss that pig.
His tail would be my cherry on the cake.
"Sale Chienne"
I like learning new French expressions :D
I am bored at work, please make another episode soon :)
It's august 2017, five years after the last comment on this truly wonderful AAR. I just read the whole 13 pages of this thread an I must admit this was more addictive than playing the actual game !
Why did you stop my friend ? This story must continue. It's a real shame top cut the cord.
In any case, I salute you for taking the time to write this epic tale.