The Taking of Blachernae Palace

[The Stig]

Simon strode through the streets of Constantinople. What once had been the grandest city in Europe was now slowly being torn apart by its' new conquerors. Smoke rose in a few different columns off to the south. A strange mixture of screams and the sounds of merrymaking filled the air, akin to some sort of euphoric nightmare. Everywhere, crusaders ran about, chasing Greek women or cradling some golden token seized from one of the many churches or palaces. Unlike, seemingly, the vast majority of crusaders, Simon had no interest in utterly destroying the economic future of the Latin Empire, so he remained silent and stoic as he made his way down broken avenues and cracked streets to the district where the lives of over half the men who had followed him to the Golden Horn had been lost. In stark comparison to the rest of the city, there were no crusaders looting or raping, half armoured and half nude, hurrying this way and that to claim the greatest part of the many treasures Constantinople contained. Blachernae was far from untouched by the siege, however. Refugees from other districts had fled there to escape the dangers of their own homes, it seemed. As Simon arrived, they had only just began to line the streets, their soft wails and low moans mixing with the terrified screams and gleeful calls from the rest of the city to produce a uniquely terrible symphony of depravity. It was only when Simon's destination came into view that the aura of sorrow surrounding Constantinople seemed silenced. Before him stood the opulent Blachernae palace, only days previously the home of a Roman Emperor, heir to a throne over 12 centuries old. The very same throne they used would now be Simon's. A small group of knights, only 10 or so, idled around the front gate. One of them held a black banner with a white scorpion, reserving the palace for Simon di Napoli and him alone. He walked past, nodding to the knights, who swiftly fell into step behind him. He banged on the front doors once, waited for a response, then banged again.

[The Stig]

After another tense few seconds of waiting, Simon pushed on the door. The heavy wooden barriers creaked open with an eerie whine. The entryway, although stunningly beautiful and ornate in construction, was utterly deserted. Not a single soul stirred within view of Simon and his followers. The only light to see by in the entryway came from the door and two large windows set in the walls. There were no candles or torches to be seen. The entire room was empty of life. The rest of the palace proved much the same. The Emperor's chambers appeared disheveled indicating that he and his household had left in a hurry. Anyone not important enough to join him had already left to find shelter in more humble surroundings, where the marauding crusader army was less likely to loot. After about an hour of exploring the many rooms and passageways of the palace, Simon found himself in a huge, square room, the ceiling shrouded in darkness beyond the smokey, gently flickering light of the single torch one of his knights carried. The floor was covered in many different furs, some of them so exotic that the crusaders knew not from which animal they'd been taken. All around, grand paintings, tapestries, and mosaics covered the walls, detailing previous sovereigns and their respective reigns. At one end, at the top of a raised dais, golden candlesticks protruded from the walls. The Sicilians stood in awe of the majesty surrounding them, their hearts filling with a mixture of greed and reverence. This trance was only broken by Simon's hushed commands.

"Get some torches and light the entire place up. Track down the rest of our group and tell them what we've found here. This is home now."