The Principality of Antioch

[Carl von Döbeln]

The Principality of Antioch



The Principality of Antioch may be smaller than Jerusalem, but it is still a feared and respectable crusader state. It extends around the northeastern edge of the Mediterranean, bordering on the County of Tripoli to the south, Edessa to the east, and the Byzantine Empire to the northwest. The crusaders who dwell here are mostly of norman or south italian origin and are led by the young and fiercely ambitious Raynald of Châtillon.

[Stildawn]

Christian spat a mixture of sand and water violently to the ground a step in front of him, the mixture disappearing almost instantly as it came into contact with the hot dusty earth, if you could call it earth Christian mused to himself as he swiped the sweat from his brow once again.

Christian was bitter, more than just bitter he was a mixture of pain and rage, and he wanted revenge more than anything else, yet he knew now that that was impossible, for the army of which he was part of had found itself foolishly in dire circumstances.

Christian looked left and right down the line, his warband arrayed behind him lost among the other Crusaders, though he didn't really consider himself a Crusader, he was just defending his home, no now he was just after vengeance for he had no home. But it wouldn't come, not now, not with Prince Reymond's army completely surrounded.

Christian looked over to the Prince. Many said he was a man of stature, but Christian held nothing but distain for his liege. He wanted revenge but instead because of the Princes stupid actions he now faced only defeat.

But he didn't get the time to wallow in his bitterness for a moment later, the hordes attacked...

[Stildawn]

But Christians story didn't start on the scorched earth of Inab, for he was twenty five, not a boy but a man. No his story started further east again, on the very outskirts of the Principality.

Christians Grandfather was a retired Crusader, who on the First Crusade all those years before had earned a small sparse plot of land, here he and his son Christians father worked the land. But times were never peaceful in the Principality, and shortly after Christians birth his father was killed in a small Muslim skirmish. Thus he was raised and trained by his grandfather, taking the lessons of a Norman Knight from an early age.

Christian along with a few of his close retinue were on a hunt when Nur ad-Din invaded Antioch in June 1149. The fast moving Muslim cavalry quickly reaching into the Principality. The first sign of terror that Christian saw was the plumes of black smoke on the horizon as he and his party turned for home.

As they rode into the small settlement they called their home, the smell of burning flesh was the first to hit their nostrils. Christian dismounted in a fit of panic, ignoring everything as he ran into his small manor. Death and destruction was everywhere, but all of his surroundings disappeared were his eyes narrowed in on what would plague his mind for eternity.

His wife, his daughters. All three laid open, a partially dried pool of mixed blood surrounding them, their bodies like islands in a hellish lake. Christian didn't make a sound as he starred at the horror, his men slowly filtered into the room, a few gasping at the sights.

"Chri... Chris... Christian..."

The feeble sound instantly waking Christian from his daze. He eyes searching the darken room for the source, finally resting on his Grandfather who was slumped against the far wall.

Christian rushed to his side but stopped just short seeing that the old man was near death, a large gash that should have killed him opening up his side.

"I'm sorry... There were to many, the heathens... Sorry." Was all the old man could manage, his life draining from his wrecked body.

There was nothing left to do, the men buried the dead, took was little remained in the settlement and rode west. Christian was a mask of bitterness, outwardly he raged against the Muslims, but inside he knew the burden was his alone, he was away when his family needed him most.

[Stildawn]

It had been two weeks since that day, Christian with what remained of his warband had rode south west; the small band easily circling around the huge horde of Nur ad-Din's Muslims. Coming to Antioch just as the Prince with his peculiar ally the infamous Hashshashin were preparing to march back east.

For Christian the tide of war quickly went from bad to worse. The Muslims had besieged the fortress of Inab, and the Prince in what Christian considered outright folly was marching to relieve the force. It sounded good in theory until Christian realized that they left Antioch with a fraction of the Christian force, a mere fourteen hundred men.

The march went by in an uneventful manner, except that Christians horse broke a leg, which left him walking the last miles. The days wore on as the army in which rested Christians hopes for revenge, approached the goal of the Inab.

It was known by the gossip filtering down the ranks of the army that Nur ad-Din had pulled back from Inab, Christian had no idea why but the mood was joyful with the prospect of defeating the Muslim with the combined force of the garrison and the Princes army.

But as the fortress passed on the left, the army kept marching, Christian watched as the stronghold slipped out of sight and wondered what the hell the Prince was up to...

[Stildawn]

Christian watched as the hordes charged forward, he seemed unconcerned of the on coming destruction that had to occur since the army was surrounded the night before; too far from Inab for any protection. He lifted his left arm dragging his shield up out of the grove it had created in the dry earth, at the same moment he turned back to the enemy as he looked at the part of the line where his small band of only thirteen warriors stood waiting with shield and spear.

As the thunder of a thousand boots grew into a horrible percussion behind him. Christian in a almost lazy demeanor weaved himself through the spear points, taking a place in the line. He wasn't afraid, no he neither cared if he lived or died, he had seen his whole world evaporate in the last few weeks, he had no family, no home, and little wealth of his own. He had only his bitter hate and desire for revenge, but it was clear now that none of that would be satisfied, not on this field, not this day at least. The armies situation was dire, Christian almost laughed, they had little hope to live to noon.

Gripping his hilt and bracing his shield, he simply watching in detached disinterest as the Muslims charged ever closer... Closer... Mere feet away... He could smell their sweat... The world seemed to slow to a crawl... He smiled as a blade reached out for him, he invited the blade letting it come closer, nearing himself to death...

At what seemed like the last millisecond Christians shield swept sideways, deflecting the Muslim blade to the left while in choreographed smoothness Christians right arm brought his heavy sword to bear with force on the enemies exposed head. The impact of the heavy blade produced an explosion on blood and gore which sprayed out like a large rock hitting water. The man immediately slumped as Christian stepped back to let him fall before him. A grin firmly established on his face Christian thought perhaps he would get a little vengeance this day after all.

[Gandalfus]

Alfred sends Louis to meet with the Duke of Antioch.

[Trot]

He is disarmed and lead to the throne room.

[Gandalfus]

He knelt.
Your Grace, I have something to offer on Behalf of the king of England.

[Trot]

Well speak up then.

[Gandalfus]

He offers to aid you here against the heathen Turk, and humbly requests an alliance with you.

[Trot]

"His aid would be appreciated, but why does he offer. What does England stand to gain.

[Gandalfus]

The recognition of the Pope, of course. Any spoils from the cities England captures, although the cities will be turned over to you, depending on where they are located.

[Trot]

I can accept this. Tell your king his aid is appreciated

[Gandalfus]

He bows, and leaves.