NationStates Jolt Archive

The year is 1180. The time of the Second Crusades. This rp surrounds the Crusader States and the Moslem kingdoms in the Holy Land. The center of this religious and cultural clash is Jerusalem. A holy city of significant importance to the three major religions. The fledgling Crusader States struggle to maintain their control of these lands which they seized almost a hundred years prior. The Moslems are unified under the rule of Saladin, a great leader and general who hopes to recapture jerusalem and expell the Crusaders from the Middle East. But an uneasy and fragile peace exists which can fracture at any time and plunge the whole area into a holy war of blood and despair.

Link to sign-up and OCC thread:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=483856

Map of Crusader States:
http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www2.prestel.co.uk/church/oosj/kmap02.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www2.prestel.co.uk/church/oosj/castle.htm&h=1023&w=634&sz=163&tbnid=4rfTONM9wJohKM:&tbnh=149&tbnw=92&hl=en&start=18&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dthe%2Bcrusader%2Bstates%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D

OOC: is this the start?

Marseilles, France

The cold wind whipped up from the ocean and chilled everything it touched. A light snow began to fall and settle on the ground. The city was full of people, many of them pilrims heading to the Holy Land. of course, they'd have to travel from France to Italy, then to the Holy land. many of them went for religious reasons. Others went to start a new life. There were also many soldiers and knights, some of which belonged to the Templars. people dodged from building to building. It was a cold day. However, the streets were still crowded. the port was full of ships coming and going. Trade with the East brought many new things to the city. Life was good...for some people. A knight rode proudly down one of the crowded streets. He carried himself honorably. The squire also seemed of strong will. The knight looked to all the people who looked back at him with admiration.
''Sire, perhaps we should stop to feed the horses and ourselves?" the squire asked as they weeved their horses in and out through the crowd.
"Yes, you're right, Montague. We should rest ourselves and eat before the voyage" the knight replied. he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.
'I am a knight now' he thought.

OOC: is this the start?

OCC: Yes, don't reply to this message. All OCC posts and stuff go to the sign-up thread.

Marseilles, France

Adrien led his horse through the maze of white tents and campfires to his respective cream-colored housing. Nervousness filled his body, but mixed with it was excitement. A new life. He thought. He knew his father would be proud. A noise resounded inside his tent. Adrien drew his dagger from the place on his belt where his robes draped over it, cleverly disguising the clergyman's only defence. A rat ran out from underneath his tent. Adrien was tempted to use a 4 letter word, but fought his temptation. It was time for sleep. Adrien entered his room and dozed off.

The knight could see his breath, he shivered a bit but kept tight the reins of the horse. An inn came into view. It wasn't very fancy, just average. Which was good because the knight didn't have much money and he tried to be humble whenevr he could. Inside, there was a roaring fire. There were many people who gathered around tables to tell stories and share laughs. Food on plates scattered the tables and mugs of ale.
"This inn has the warmth and glow of a home. Tis a proper place for weary travelers" the knight remarked as he and Montauge antered the inn. They stabled the horses and moved inside. A man with a great big beard and a bit of a belly walked up to them in a gracious manner.
"My lord, welcome to my humble inn" he said.
"You have spare lodgings for a weary knight and his squire?" the knight asked.
"Well...the rooms are taken. But the wine cellar is just as welcoming. there are straw mats and a table for you. Will that suffice?"
"Yes! That is perfect! better to be humble by choice than to be humbled by others. That's what i always say"
"Excellent!" the owner exclaimed with a cheery tone. They took their belongings down to the wine cellar and settled in.

Yassin squinted in the bright sun as his men rounded up the last of the infidel caravaners.

"Mohammad," he called his second in command, "bring me their leader." (OOC, assume all posts are in Arabic unles otherwise noted)

Within minute his men had drug over the portly Frenchmen. The man fell to his knees and blubbered for mercy. Yassin swiftly kicked the man in his chest.

"Silence," he barked in French, "stand and face your fate like man."

However, the merchant stayed on his knees and cried. The infuriated Yassin drew his scimitar and quickly beheaded the man. He turned to his men and began barking orders.

"Kill every other man who can wield a sword."

"What of the women and children my lord?" asked Mohammad.

"You will not harm them, we are warriors not bandits and savages. When you are finished meet me at the Amman."

Without waiting for Mohammad's reply, Yassin and his bodyguards mounted their horses and rode for Amman.

Jeruselem:

Ason was dining in his banquet hall, his three wives with him. He was cleaning his sword from a rent battle, and was immensely tired. As he got up form his cot, he left for a drink of water. As he filled up his cup at the founton, he heard distent laughter...could it be his soul?

He returned to his cot, and rememberd how unusual his position was. Eight comanders above him, killed in one day. Now he occupied the top position in this army. He went to his room, to perofrm one of the 5 daily devotions to Allah.

Fadil(Generous, honorable, superior) looked at the night stars in the city of Acre near Jeruselem, he watched a shooting star go towards the west and looked back at some men on horses that followed him as far as he could see in the darkness. The leader(Fadil) had left his life of wealth to move his army to the south to help the others who assembled there, Fadil was a skilled warrior who had the best teachers his father could find and he would finally put his skills to use for his home.

The Europeans would come and try to take the holy land but they would be crushed and sent home, the young Fadil had to fight and had no fear of death so he would defend his nation untill he died. Everyone who was unable to pick up arms against Europe counted on the soldiers of the Arab people to push the enemy back where they came from.

سورة البقرة

Surah 2. Al-Baqarah 2:190-193

2:190: Fight in the cause of Allah those who fight you,
but do not transgress limits;
for Allah loveth not transgressors.

2:191: And slay them wherever ye catch them,
and turn them out from where they have Turned you out;
for tumult and oppression are worse than slaughter;
but fight them not at the Sacred Mosque,
unless they (first) fight you there;
but if they fight you, slay them.
Such is the reward of those who suppress faith.

2:192: But if they cease, Allah is Oft-forgiving, Most Merciful.

2:193: And fight them on until there is no more Tumult or oppression,
and there prevail justice and faith in Allah; but if they cease,
Let there be no hostility except to those who practise oppression.


Damascus

Vaya or KLAH Satyavaya "True Lion/Tiger/Leapord" of the clan Klah originally of the principality of the Golden Dragon Boats of the Khmer Empire listened to the Master read from the Koran. It was beautifully simple and logical. There was a nuanced Grace to the precepts. The Codex of the Muslims was intriguing. The Holy Man was fortifying the resolve of the community. It seemed to be working. Many were nodding and discusssing the words even as the Holy Man was explaining them. It made understanding the commentary difficult.

He finally gave up and headed towards the Foriegn District. He knew who had slept with how in several of the great houses...all manner of insinificant things...these he knew. Yet...the words of the Master troubled him long into the night. The Barbarious Occidental Franks had invaded the Community...that was aggression. Even in the few months he had been in Damascus the sheiks and counts were conducting raids and counter raids. So far no one had died, but still! Livestock was valuable.

He really wished the Enlightened One talked more about this Allah. The guards challenged him. After a cursoury check they opened the gate and let him through. He dropped off his purchases, and gathered his gear.
Time for practice drill.

Marseilles, France
Adrien woke up to the sound of a low chanting. He quickly threw on his lightest robes and packed up his saddlebag. He pushed open one flap to the tent and witnessed the slow march band in front of him. The army was moving. It was time. Adrien packed up his tent and led his horse into the grim procession. Theres no turning back now.

Ciaran huddled in the warmth of the inn's fire, at Marseilles. He was the captain of the men-at-arms his lord had chosen to send to the Holy Land. Over a hundred men had been sent with him, to wait for the ship to Jerusalem. However, the bitter cold of the winter, and disease, had reduced their number to 40.

Ciaran prayed to God that he and his men would live through the winter to seek out the Holy Land.

Dawn cracked over the ocean. Outlining the ships. The knight was awaken by Montague who had a plate of bread and some cheese for the two of them. The knight wiped the sleep from his eyes, yawned, and lean forward.
"Good morning, sire" Montague said as he broke off a piece of bread and handed it to the young knight.
"Gracious morning to you too, noble Montague" he replied with a smile and began eating.
"Sire, what will happen once we reach the Holy Land?" he asked.
"We will at some point with God's grace reach the port city of Tyre. There, we will join up either with the Templars or Hospitalars. I know of a fellow knight who awaits our arrival."
"Oh, I see" Montague continued to eat quietly. "Sire, when will you begin to teach me in the ways of a knight?"
"You're previous master died not to recently ago. We will wait for a few more days. On the ship we'll have plenty of time for that" the knight replied. One more thing, I desire not to be refered to as master. Call me by my real name, Aleron" Aleron said with a smile as he chewed his food.
"of course, Aleron" Montague found himself lucky to be with Aleron, one of the few huumble knights left in all of Europe.

Southeast of France, in the Mediteranean
Adrien sat by a group of tanned man wearing white shirts with red crossess on the front. The snow fell all around him, making their shirts even whiter. They all held tattered longswords and shields, which were rested against their legs. Their faces were expressionless, dead. One of them spoke up.
"You from Gual?" He spoke in Italian accented English and in a tone that sounded far beyond his years.
"I am. Orleans is my hometown." Adrien answered in English.
"Stay-" He paused and wheezed. One of his comrades patted him on the back. "Stay away from the red flag."
The man reclined, as if to let Adrien know he was finished. Just then the boat rocked, sending Adrien flying over to the end of the boat. The boat settled down a bit, and Adrien sat down next to a man with dark hair and a short beard. Just then, a younger looking man came rushing over to them with some bread and cheese. The two men exchanged some words, and Adrien realized that this man was a knight, and that the younger man was his squire. Then the knight said something about his real name, Aleron. Adrien spoke up. "So your name is Aleron?"
"Yes." answered the man blandly. "And what might be yours?"

OCC: My character's were still in the city. But that's alright, doesn't hurt to have them on a ship. I'll go along with it. Also, you shouldn't make responses for my character. It's not that big of a deal. It's just a little tip. Don't respond to this post.

Aleron cocked his head around towards the monk ''I am Aleron Massena. What is you're name, monk?" Aleron asked. Montague sat there still eating his bread. The knight stood tall and took in a deep breath "What drives you to go to the Holy Lands? Trying to convert Moslems, eh?" he asked jokingly.

Niall stood, and left the hut. It was early in the morning, and as he packed uo he smiled fondly at the faces of the children in the hut. He had first seen them a year ago, when he had rescued them from bandits. He sometimes visited here, played with the kinds for a few days, then left quietly. He slung his pack over his back and began walking off into the heat of the newly rising sun.

Walking through the streets of Marseilles, France he had gathered a dozen knights to his call to go to the Holy Land. In their group also rode a few of Reginald’s cousins how had come to join him upon receiving word of his success in the east and they would join him on his growing estate as sword brothers. Despite, having his small little following he still wish tom gather more knights to go east with him.

So, for the night he decided to rent a number of rooms at rather comfortable clean inn so that they would have some time to plan on their next course of action. Soon, they arrived at the hotel and had everything arranged rather quickly do to slipping the innkeeper a few pieces of silver. So for now Reginald just took a seat with his cousin Erikson and decided to have a few drinks, also to keep an eye out for any knights that looked like they desired to go to the Holy Land.

OOC: Where is everyone?

dunno! waiting for the thread owner?

Adrien chuckled and opened his saddlebag, pulling out a hunk of cheese. "Right you are. Them Saracens ain't all that bad, you know. I might be a bit old, but there's life in me yet to go to the Holy Land and seek a new life and recovery from my sins. I am Adrien Wilkinson of Orleans, by the way."
OOC: Sorry about my delayed response. I went to stay with my aunt and she doesn't have an internet connection.
I know I've included alot of religous stuff in my posts, but I'm actually not religous. Just thought you'd like to know. :D

OOC: Why is nobody posting anymore? Its been like 5 days and no new posts!

Niall set off onto the road, walking until nightfall. As the day ended he set up a small tent, unrolled a blanket, and lay down. He woke at dawn, and packed up then set off again. As he walked he whistled a tune, and thought about home. He missed some things but he loved being here, and would stay here probably for the rest of his life. Though it would be nice to see home one more time before he died.

Adrien spent the rest of the day conversing with the young knight, teaching him much of his wisdom and learning from the knight's chivalrous ways. Aleron was not really that young, but compared to Adrien he was. Night fell soon, but Adrien was unable to sleep. He lay awake, thinking about the previous day.
Red Flag...White Knight...
Suddenly the ship rocked vigourosly. Thousands of red arrows shot onto the boat. One struck Aleron in the shoulder, and Adrien knew it was fatal. Everybody on the ship had been killed, but Adrien was unafraid. He sensed a greater purpose, that these men had died. Another boat came into view, shadowed greatly by the thick fog. There was a red flag on it. A scarlet emblem of bloodshed and of the demons of Hell. Dark-skinned men clambored onto the ship from the barge enveloped in fog. They took no notice of Adrien however. He shouted, but could not be heard. He turned, and saw Him. The Lord Christ was being hoisted onto the bow of the ship by a group of the dark-skinned men. He beamed calmly still, as he was violently struck repeatedly in the heart with a spear. His blood seaped onto the boat, slowly flooding it. The boat began to sink. The dark skinned men jumped back onto their boat and rowed away. Adrien's legs were deep in the blood and scattered remnants of Him. The boat sunk beneath the water, and Adrien felt his lungs beginning to fail him. Is this how it ends?
And then he woke up. Adrien quickly realized that he had spontaneously fallen asleep while conversing with Aleron. Adrien felt embarrased, but mystified. It was an omen from God, but a bad omen yet. Adrien had just witnessed the death of Aleron and himself.

OOC: This is just a cliffhanger, but an exciting one. Maybe it was true and a sign from god, or maybe it was false and Adrien is Schizophrenic.

The Leopard was concerned...if rumors were to be believed, then the Franks were once again preparing to attack the Muslin Lands from their Enclaves along the Palestine. This would result in yet another series of blood letting. No doubt the sands of Syria would become even saltier with the deaths of so many fools.

He finished the movement, cleaned, and then sheathed the long sword...with his free hand he balanced the stick before flourishing it and setting it in his waistband. A scholar-sage needed occasionally to educate the brutish barbarian warriors.

The Leopard slowly made his way to market...

OOC: Nobodys frickin posting! What the heck is up?

well hell man I think this one is dead... I'll let it be for another week before editing this to either be a good ole bar fight or my character leaving for the fabled Constantinople.

C'MON YOU PEOPLE! THIS RP GOT POTENTIAL! Dang! Ah s*** you're right it's over. If within a week nobody does anything, I'm gonna send my char to "fairy land" and hes gonna assasinate kennedy in a future life. Then a nuclear bomb hits the earth and blows up everything. What a great ending to a potentially great rp, huh?

its cuz Kulikovo's gone. Hes the "leader" of this rp and hes not posting on my rps either.