Outskirts of Constantinople, August 1096 AD

[Lucius Malfoy]

From across Latin Christendom came forth the faithful and zealous as hosts of soldiers, blessed by preachers and determined in their purpose, march towards the Gateway of the East, Constantinople. Soon, from the walls of the ancient city, many could see camp fires and makeshift tents of the Latin Crusaders from all origins; Germans, French, Italians, English, Slavs and so forth. All had come together, disregarding their origins and begin united in the cause of the faithful and pious. Yet this made the Greeks, who had called upon their Latin brethren, to aid their beleaguered empire from the invading Muslim Turks to the East, grew weary of the growing number of knights and Latin soldiers before their mighty city. Even now, their Emperor, Alexios I, was seeking to send them over the Bosphorus and upon their journey as soon as possible.

Here is where the Crusade begins, before the walls of Constantinople. Here is where all of our characters shall gather and meet, preparing strategies, figuring out routes to the Levant and deciding who should lead their most pious and faithful hosts. Please, post your composition and host numbers with your introductory post for my sake so that way I can keep track of numbers.

Have fun!

[Lucius Malfoy]

From a hill in the distance, Julien de Baalun gazed upon the most ancient and revered city in all of Europe. He remembered the stories and myths of Constantinople; the city of riches and religion, the center of Roman culture in the East, the seat of mighty emperors and the Gateway to the East. Looking upon the walls and beauty of the city, Julien could honestly believe the myths and confirm the stories written and passed from mouth to mouth. His eyes glanced down at the marching host of troops that bore the banners of Christ, France and his personal heraldry as they made for the growing camps of fellow Crusaders and pious Lords. Lord Baalun could see the hunger and wariness on his soldiers faces as they had trekked across France, over the Alps into Northern Italy, onward East towards Croatia and Hungary before entering Serbia from the North and making through Macedonia towards Thrace and Constantinople. The trials they had faced along the way tested the loyalty of his soldiers, the potential of himself and their determination. Their trials had been sent by God, sent to strengthen their resolve and unity. They left France as carefree adventurers and arrived at Constantinople as faithful and determined soldiers of Christendom.

Julien would ride down and join the mounted knights as they rode alongside the marching troops in a column. His retainers made room for their leader as the Frankish noble joined his fellow Frenchmen and Normans from his home in France. His mind wandered to his wife, Constance and their beloved children, Maurice and Constance the Younger. They must be asking their mother and uncles, Philippe I and Hugh de Vermandois, where their father was. Julien remembered the day he left, promising to send for his family when he settled in the Levant and secured a new home for them. Perhaps their new home may in Antioch or the port of Acre. Julien highly doubted he find a new home for them in the most holy city of Jerusalem, the prize for the most pious and faithful of the God's crusading lords, but the Frenchmen knew he would find his family a suitable home and ensure many riches were waiting for them when they came.

Julien's Host: 4,600 soldiers
- 690 Footmen
- 690 Spearmen
- 690 Bowmen
- 1,150 Men-at-Arms
- 1,380 Knights

[Pinkerton]

Alongside Julien the Bastard's host rode the men of Villehardouin led by Sir Guy.
A long way they had come from northern France and yet they were still a long distance away from Jerusalem and the Holy Land. He worried the men would start deserting before they even reached Antioch, but he kept quiet. It was better to show himself confident, in order to inspire his soldiers.

Guy de Villehardouin's host
240 footment
240 spearmen
180 bowmen
240 men-at-arms
300 knights
Total: 1200

[Celsius]

The Burgundian Host under Robert de Bourgogne traveled near their fellow Frenchmen. Their banner stained and a little tattered from marching and sailing through Europe. Robert rode near the front of the column, moving closer to the other French commanders. What will this new world to him hold? Success? Piety? Failure? Loss of faith?

Only time would tell.

Robert de Bourgogne's Host: 2,100 Soldiers
-420 Footmen
-420 Spearmen
-315 Bowmen
-525 Man-at-Arms
-420 Knights

[Gandalfus]

A sizeable group of soldiers arrived at the sprawling camp of the Crusaders, within sight of the walls of Theodosius. Riding at the head, surrounded by a throng of well armoured Knights, was Stephen. The banner of Aumale fluttered in the wind, held proudly aloft by a standard bearer. Although what that represented had little bearing now. His title was taken from him, like a toy snatched from a child; lands auctioned off like some impoverished debtor. Whimsical ideas and fantasies of what could have been filled his mind. Sat on the throne of the Conqueror, master of an entire realm. Instead, he was here, at the edge of the civilised world. Beyond were lands filled with Saracens, Turks, and desert-dwellers. Lands that they must bring the sword to.

The column slowed slightly, as they approached the encampment. Stephen raised a gloved hand, and the host halted. Dismounting, the band of retainers, each bearing Stephen's heraldry, accompanied him into the camp, whilst the soldiers erected their tents and unloaded the saddlebags. Looking around for heraldry, Stephen started off to what he hoped was a group of noble Latin lords, to announce his arrival to the Princes of the west that led this Holy Crusade. Soon, his liege, Duke Robert, would arrive, for he was surely not far behind the Norman-French host that had departed from Aumale.


Stephen's Host: 2650 soldiers
- 530 Footmen
- 530 Spearmen
- 397 Archers
- 530 Men-at-arms
- 662 Knights

[The Mad Skylord]

The small but veteran force of Sir Malcolm Scott of Dundee travels with these Frenchmen. Having crossed to Northern France, it had seemed a clever move to join with these French Crusaders in the march to Constantinople. As his troops marched ever closer to the city, Malcolm paused to look at the hordes of banners and the tents upon tents upon tents stretched out before him. There were tens of thousands of men here. He glanced up to the Black Saltire, the Lion Rampant and his own colours and wondered how life in Scotland fared. His King had chosen him to march to the Holy Land with a small force in his name, to lead Scotsmen to fight for God and the Church, and now here he was, only a step away from that goal. Shaking out of his thought process, Malcolm spurred his horse on and continued on with the French host, plans would soon be made to cross into the East, and the Scots would be at the forefront of those plans...

Troops:
500 men
100 Footmen
100 Spearmen
75 Bowmen
100 Men at Arms
125 Knights

[Lord William]

Lord Richard Neville's Host

258 bowmen
258 footmen
258 spearman
430 men at arms
516 Knights


Richard rides for the holy land with his host. As he rides, he attempts to recruit men Into his holy host destined to the holy land to liberate Christ and his followers from the Islamic heathens. The road is long and hard but he is sure to meet fellow Christians along the way

[Lucius Malfoy]

Julien would notice Robert and Guy nearby as they marched alongside his host. Guy de Villehardouin was a retainer of Lord Baalun, a knight he had met upon moving his home from the Barony de Baalun in Maine to the Lordship of Soissons, north of Paris. It was good to see his loyalty continue to show as Guy followed Julien's host for the East. The other, a Burgundian, named Robert de Bourgogne, was from a dukedom south of Paris. He was a man of the cloth, a man of God. Julien had welcomed Robert when he approached his host, requesting to join them on their trek for Constantinople and the Holy Lands beyond.

Pulling on the reins of his horse, Julien let the pair catch up and would ride alongside Sir Guy and Father Robert. He nods in the direction of Constantinople.

Magnificent isn't she? The city of Emperors, of Romans, of riches and wonders. No one can say everyday that they have seen its walls like we are.

[Celsius]

Julien would notice Robert and Guy nearby as they marched alongside his host. Guy de Villehardouin was a retainer of Lord Baalun, a knight he had met upon moving his home from the Barony de Baalun in Maine to the Lordship of Soissons, north of Paris. It was good to see his loyalty continue to show as Guy followed Julien's host for the East. The other, a Burgundian, named Robert de Bourgogne, was from a dukedom south of Paris. He was a man of the cloth, a man of God. Julien had welcomed Robert when he approached his host, requesting to join them on their trek for Constantinople and the Holy Lands beyond.

Pulling on the reins of his horse, Julien let the pair catch up and would ride alongside Sir Guy and Father Robert. He nods in the direction of Constantinople.

Magnificent isn't she? The city of Emperors, of Romans, of riches and wonders. No one can say everyday that they have seen its walls like we are.

Robert nodded politely at Lord Julien upon his approach
"Magnificent indeed. The scars these walls hold. Truly a great wonder."

[Pinkerton]

Julien would notice Robert and Guy nearby as they marched alongside his host. Guy de Villehardouin was a retainer of Lord Baalun, a knight he had met upon moving his home from the Barony de Baalun in Maine to the Lordship of Soissons, north of Paris. It was good to see his loyalty continue to show as Guy followed Julien's host for the East. The other, a Burgundian, named Robert de Bourgogne, was from a dukedom south of Paris. He was a man of the cloth, a man of God. Julien had welcomed Robert when he approached his host, requesting to join them on their trek for Constantinople and the Holy Lands beyond.

Pulling on the reins of his horse, Julien let the pair catch up and would ride alongside Sir Guy and Father Robert. He nods in the direction of Constantinople.

Magnificent isn't she? The city of Emperors, of Romans, of riches and wonders. No one can say everyday that they have seen its walls like we are.

"Indeed it is majestic. A damn shame it is in the hands of the Greeks and their patriarchs. A catholic Emperor of Byzantium, that would make the heathens think twice before advancing further into the West."

Guy distrusted the orthodox. He knew they were only allowing pass to the crusaders because it was in their political and finantial interests. It made him uneasy

[Lucius Malfoy]

"Indeed it is majestic. A damn shame it is in the hands of the Greeks and their patriarchs. A catholic Emperor of Byzantium, that would make the heathens think twice before advancing further into the West."

Guy distrusted the orthodox. He knew they were only allowing pass to the crusaders because it was in their political and finantial interests. It made him uneasy

We come here to aid our Eastern brethren, Sir Guy. It was the word of His Holiness, Pope Urban II. To save our Christian brethren from the grips of the advancing Saracens. We must fulfill our oath to God and save our fellow Christians from the grips of these bold heathens who dare strike towards the heart of Christendom.

Deep down, Julien had to agree with the opinion of Sir Guy. Maybe a catholic emperor upon the Roman throne of Constantinople and wearing the purple garbs of such a grand title would make these Saracens fear Christendom.

Robert nodded politely at Lord Julien upon his approach
"Magnificent indeed. The scars these walls hold. Truly a great wonder."

Tell, Father Robert, have your fellow Clergy spoke of where they are gathering at the camp? I know of no Catholic church in this area and suspect your fellow brethren of Christ will have a makeshift church somewhere.

Noticing Lord Julien, Malcolm canters on to catch up. He had marched with these men for weeks, he might as well continue socializing with them until the end. Reining in, he begins to talk in decent French, not perfect, but passable.

"My Lord, Sirs, we seem to have reached Constantinople, I thank you for letting me and my Scots march with you!"

Julien's eyes now turned to Sir Malcolm Scott, a Scotsman they had picked up before moving south towards Burgundy and Italy. He knew very little of the Highlanders to the north of England, now Norman controlled. Though he had heard tales of their ancestors, the Picts and Caledonians, who were thorns in the side of Roman legions stationed in Britain during the height of the Roman Empire of old. Lord Baalun bowed his head towards Malcolm.

We are all brothers of Christ, Sir Malcolm! The more the merrier I say, no matter where you are from. We cannot be nit picky with who our allies are at this crucial moment of the Crusade and beyond.

[Pinkerton]

We come here to aid our Eastern brethren, Sir Guy. It was the word of His Holiness, Pope Urban II. To save our Christian brethren from the grips of the advancing Saracens. We must fulfill our oath to God and save our fellow Christians from the grips of these bold heathens who dare strike towards the heart of Christendom.

Deep down, Julien had to agree with the opinion of Sir Guy. Maybe a catholic emperor upon the Roman throne of Constantinople and wearing the purple garbs of such a grand title would make these Saracens fear Christendom.

"I'm just saying that Komnenos and his generals could be a bit more generous. We're doing what they should have done years ago and we're not even invited into the city. God knows I could use a generous meal alongside a nice bottle of wine. Besides they say the greek wenches are not hard to look at."

A good jug of ale and a bed warmed by a woman. That was what everyone there needed.

[Lucius Malfoy]

"I'm just saying that Komnenos and his generals could be a bit more generous. We're doing what they should have done years ago and we're not even invited into the city. God knows I could use a generous meal alongside a nice bottle of wine. Besides they say the greek wenches are not hard to look at."

A good jug of ale and a bed warmed by a woman. That was what everyone there needed.

Surely you can find something more exotic, in both women and drink, in the Levant, Sir Guy. After all, the Romans coveted the lands of the East for many years, just as Alexander the Great did before them.

Julien then glances in the direction of the supply train following them, nudging his retainer slightly.

In the mean time, don't you worry about a nice bottle of wine. Managed to snag some good vintages on our way through Burgundy and Italy.

Malcolm grinned cheerfully, delighted to be half way towards their goal.

"Too true, my Lord. We have fierce fighting ahead of us!"

Malcolm calmly touches the heavy claymore strapped across his saddle, the broadsword at his hip at the large shield on the other side of his saddle. He also has a battle axe stowed somewhere, and God knew, he would need them. He looks at Lord Julien and the knights and continues.

"Now we must cross into the Levant, and fight the Saracens. Do you have any plans yet made or will you simply decide upon a desired course of action when the time comes?"

I have no plans yet, my mind is as wary as my soldiers are, Sir Malcolm. I hope that we may have a few good days of rest before our crossing over the Golden Horn and into the lands of these Saracens and Turks. A good night's rest will allow my mind to refresh itself and be more prepared for strategy and battles to come.

Ghosting forward with his Knights, Stephen felt quite out of place among the throng of lords, painfully aware of his meagre status. No doubt he was one of the least among them, despite his blood ties to the conqueror. French and German royal banners were among those he noticed, along with that of an English Earl. There were others, though he did not recognise them. Striding towards the Frenchmen with an assumed air of confidence, he bowed his head as he addressed them in impeccable French, albeit with a strong Norman accent.

"My Lords. I am Stephen of Aumale." Pausing, his dark eyes darted erratically between the Frenchmen, as he waited for a response.

(Assuming you mean me and my group...)

Julien would turn away from Guy, Malcolm and Robert to address the newcomer who proclaimed himself Stephen of Aumale. Aumale was in the English-controlled territories of Normandy. Julien would speak to the man as his army continued to march towards the outskirts of the camps surrounding Constantinople.

I am Julien de Baalun, Baron of Baalun and Lord of Soissons, half-brother to His Royal Highness, Philippe I of House Capet. I welcome you, Stephen of Aumale. I hope your journey to this destination was as fair as ours was.

"Indeed it seems so. I have seen several monks and lower clergy, but no Cardinals or the like. His Holiness has formed a loose union of sorts with the Patriarch in Constantinople, Nicholas Grammaticus. I intend to speak with him in hopes that he will aid in the making of a place of worship for his Christian brothers. If he does not, then perhaps the rites of Christ will just be performed along the roads."
He nodded slightly. Not believing that the Patriarch of the city would do much to help
"No matter. The men will have their blessings and rites and every able bodied man of God will do their part."

I have heard very little of this Patriarch you speak of, Father Robert. All I know is that he is the third Nicholas to hold the seat of Patriarch of Constantinople and that he was ascended to the position by the mechanics and efforts of the Emperor, Alexios Komnenus. I have heard rumors of ongoing negotiations between His Holiness and Patriarch of a possible reunion between the Eastern and Western Churches. Do you know anything more about him?

[Celsius]

Tell, Father Robert, have your fellow Clergy spoke of where they are gathering at the camp? I know of no Catholic church in this area and suspect your fellow brethren of Christ will have a makeshift church somewhere.

"Indeed it seems so. I have seen several monks and lower clergy, but no Cardinals or the like. His Holiness has formed a loose union of sorts with the Patriarch in Constantinople, Nicholas Grammaticus. I intend to speak with him in hopes that he will aid in the making of a place of worship for his Christian brothers. If he does not, then perhaps the rites of Christ will just be performed along the roads."
He nodded slightly. Not believing that the Patriarch of the city would do much to help
"No matter. The men will have their blessings and rites and every able bodied man of God will do their part."

[The Mad Skylord]

Julien would notice Robert and Guy nearby as they marched alongside his host. Guy de Villehardouin was a retainer of Lord Baalun, a knight he had met upon moving his home from the Barony de Baalun in Maine to the Lordship of Soissons, north of Paris. It was good to see his loyalty continue to show as Guy followed Julien's host for the East. The other, a Burgundian, named Robert de Bourgogne, was from a dukedom south of Paris. He was a man of the cloth, a man of God. Julien had welcomed Robert when he approached his host, requesting to join them on their trek for Constantinople and the Holy Lands beyond.

Pulling on the reins of his horse, Julien let the pair catch up and would ride alongside Sir Guy and Father Robert. He nods in the direction of Constantinople.

Magnificent isn't she? The city of Emperors, of Romans, of riches and wonders. No one can say everyday that they have seen its walls like we are.

Noticing Lord Julien, Malcolm canters on to catch up. He had marched with these men for weeks, he might as well continue socializing with them until the end. Reining in, he begins to talk in decent French, not perfect, but passable.

"My Lord, Sirs, we seem to have reached Constantinople, I thank you for letting me and my Scots march with you!"

[MuttonChops]

"God be praised. Finally"

Exclaimed the mood of the encamped soldiers of Richalm. A force of 900ish men, were all that remained of the survivors of Civelot and Xerigordon. They were an odd assortment of men caparisoned in the surplus gear of the Byzatines, and as such had a semi eastern appearance to them but with the pale faces of Frankish warriors looking through.

Richalm's Band
# Soldiers: 950
190 Footmen
190 Spearmen
142 Archers
190 Men-At Arms
237 Mounted Knights

[Lord William]

Richard approached a fire looking to briefly warm himself before bed, he paused in front of Richalm and awaited an introduction

[MuttonChops]

Richard approached a fire looking to briefly warm himself before bed, he paused in front of Richalm and awaited an introduction

Collecting his vision at the dimming sun, Richalm noticed the approaching noblemen, his banner unfamiliar but it had a mounting sense of importance not lost to him. He gave a flourished bow, terminating at his knees. Hoping it was enough - he began.

"Guten tag, hallo. Welcome to the village. Home for us not welcomed in the city itself. I am Richalm seventh son of the Imremlhausens. Leader to this band of men you see behind me"

[Lord William]

Collecting his vision at the dimming sun, Richalm noticed the approaching noblemen, his banner unfamiliar but it had a mounting sense of importance not lost to him. He gave a flourished bow, terminating at his knees. Hoping it was enough - he began.

"Guten tag, hallo. Welcome to the village. Home for us not welcomed in the city itself. I am Richalm seventh son of the Imremlhausens. Leader to this band of men you see behind me"

Richard greeted the baron with a polite nod and a smile

Greetings, I am Lord Richard Nevile Earl of York and Lincolnshire. Doth have any titles?

[Iron Aquilifer]

Theodoric had quite possibly bankrupted Lorraine to fund his host. But what a host it is! Five thousand pious souls, drawn from the Danish north and the Polish east, Franks of Lorraine and Germans of Swabia. At the head of this vast column of God's soldiers was a thick column of knights, answering the call. Their heraldry was an ocean of writhing beasts and fields of colour, of reds and yellows and greens and blues, of black bears and white eagles and the myriad of creatures created by God. Behind the knights, that haloed band of valour and justice, came the common man. They had no coin to garb themselves as befitting warriors of Christ, but they did bring with them weapons of man. Spears and axes and swords and bows, arrows and stones and knives and clubs, the murderous instruments of the common man.

The city is not that far ahead, he told those to either side of him, fellow servants of God. We will see what brothers have been left to stand at our side.

The Duke was slender, narrow and refined. He projected an air of grace and elegance about him, as if the trials of mortality could not even reach his skin. Soft skin it was, recently cleaned and bearing only the slightest hints that it had been battered by winds for days on end. Shifting in his armour, the Duke, blood of the Emperor by marriage and birth, kept his eyes on the distant mark of Constantinople while his gaze settled on the lands of God.


OOC: Here any volunteers can present themselves to have joined Theo previously.

Host: 5230
1569 knights; 1308 men-at-arms; 784 archers; 785 footmen; 784 spearmen