NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This rp's sign up and ooc thread is here: Link. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=526796)

Damascus, 1123 September

With the falling of the sun, thousands made their way to the mosques and open plains from where they could see the way towards Mecca. With the melodious tones of the imams each head bowed down to touch the edge of their personal prayer blankets. Each voice called out in unison. The Maghrib is said throughout the walls of the city.

“Allaahu Akbar,
Ashhadu Allah ilaaha illa-Lah,
Ash Hadu anna Muhamadar rasuulullah,
Hayya' alas Salaah,
Hayya' ala Falaah,
A-Salaatu Khayrun Mina-Naum,
Qad qaamitis Salaah,
Allaahu Akbar,
Laa ilaaha illa-Lah.”

“God is great.
I bear witness that there none worthy of worship except God.
I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.
Come to prayer.
Come to felicity.
Prayer is better than sleep.
Our prayers are now ready. Our prayers are now ready.
God is great.
There is none worthy of worship except God.”


After the chanting stops a great well of silence collects, only to be broken moments afterwards when the imams dismiss their flock. Merchants, farmers, soldiers all stand up from where they were and go back about their business.


Anushtakin, called Duqaq’s Heir by many, stood upright from his silk prayer carpet. Around him were the marble columns and gold gilded halls of the palace citadel that hung above the great city of Damascus. Anushtakin was of average height, five feet and nine inches, taller than some Muslims. He sported a black goatee and mustache. His tanned skin shone brightly in the sun’s light, reflecting off his gold-black jerkin and black pants. Fur lined leather boots clad his feet.

Next to him stood the younger, equally well dressed man Toghtekin. Toghtekin was the son of Duqaq the previous ruler of Damascus and Lower Syria, a true vassal to the Caliph of Egypt. After his death Damascus required a regent, as Toghtekin was too young. Anushtakin, a talented general and administrator of Seljuk decent serving the Caliph, was given the position. Since then Anushtakin had ruled well.

“It feels good after evening prayer, the air that is,” smiled Toghtekin.

“Our souls are now clean of filth and our hearts are overflowing with joy,” said Anushtakin. “At least that is what the imams tell us.”

“What they say is true.”

“Indeed, none are truer, but men’s hearts are not always changed by simple prayer.”

“I don’t want another argument with you on religion. I lost the last one,” complained Toghtekin. The regent and young prince walked past Mamluk guards and into a wide resting room. Silk pillows and thick Persian rugs lay upon the floor. With a clap of his hand, Anushtakin summoned servants bearing silver trays laden with coffee and bowls of dates and pears.

“So how did the Council of Emirs settle with us this time?” queried Toghtekin. He took a pear and bit a large hole in its side. Anushtakin accepted a small cup of powerful Turkish coffee and popped a few dates into his mouth.

“The Emirs of Allepo and Harran are the only ones who keep us from totally uniting,” replied Anushtakin. “But I have already set in motions to take care of them.”

“And the Christians?”

“They have their own problems.”

Baldwin II stood outside the ruin's of the Temple of Soloman, looking into the ruin's where the holy of holy's had once stood, and bowed down and said "Lord God, I pray that you'll protect this holy city and not let it fall into the Muslim infidel's hands, and I pray that you'll fix my poor leadership qualites, and mold me into a holy servent of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, I ask this in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen." He sighed looking into the blue sky over Jerusalem to see what it foretold, but alas, he didn't see anything, and he walked to the Knight's Templar headquarters.

Count Bertrand looked down upon the city of Tortosa from the balcony of one of his castles, Tartous. Sighing as he heavily exhaled, he decided to summon his chief advisor, Sieur de Metz. "My liege," was the first thing he said, kneeling before his master.
"Ah, mon ami, it is good to see you."
"You summoned me, sir."
"Yes, yes," replied Bertrand, getting down to business. "I need you to make your way to Krak de Chevaliers. There, you will secure relations between our County and the Knights Hospitaller. I myself will proceed to Damascus, to discuss diplomatic matter with our, ahem, Muslim friends."
"But their lands are dangerous, my lord, I fear for your safety."
"Fear not, my loyal servant, no harm will come to me. Also, I wish you to alert my other advisors that they will be making journeys to the foreign lands. Byzantium, Edessa, Cilicia, Edessa, Syria, and Jerusalem."
With this, Sieur de Metz departed, and Count Bertrand prepared to trek across the desert to Damascus.

(Basically I'm just sending diplomatic envoys to all nations.)

Mahmud II, Sultan of Rum and Pride of Islam, watches from the balcony of his palace as riders depart from the city, several groups of them and all headed south. Each group holds a small number of men-at-arms, for protection from bandits and thieves, and a diplomatic envoy. The Sultanate already has sent an envoy to Byzantium, but others ride, under the flag of peace, to the Crusader kingdoms, Damascus, and Syria. Each is prepared to negotiate trade arrangements and nonaggression pacts with the neighbors of the mighty Sultanate. Mahmud knows that while he outnumbers the Crusader kingdoms bordering him, and his forces are relatively evenly matched against the Byzantines to the west, fighting them would allow his hated Egyptian enemies to the far south to reap all the gains. No, he is prepared to offer peace to his old enemies the Byzantines, and to the newly arrived Crusaders. And he seeks to establish better relations and trade with Damascus, which he suspects chafes somewhat under the Egyptian caliph, and Syria.

When the ambassadors arrive in their respective destinations, they will offer to open up trade to the fledgling Crusader states and the southern Muslims. Mahmud suspects that, precarious as their position is, most of the Crusaders will accept nonaggression treaties as well.

In Byzantium, the ambassador seeks an audience with the new emperor, John II Komnenos, who even in Rum has the reputation of an honorable and pious man. But even as the messengers of peace go out, other riders travel to outlying cities and towns in the Sultanate, where local governors are raising archers and infantrymen. Closer to the capitol, horsemen and powerful foot infantry are being mustered up.

Mahmud turns from the balcony, and gives orders to call up already mustered troops and gather them in the south, well-placed to repel invasion from any of the three states bordering Rum. As the saying goes... hope for peace, and prepare for war.

OOC: Trade offers and nonaggression treaties offered to everyone who was sent an ambassador. Byzantium, look for a TG as soon as I find time to write it... somewhat rushed at the moment.
Also going to list trade agreements/nonagression treaties agreed to so far here, for my own convenience.

So far:
The Kingdom of Jerusalem (trade and nonagression)
Syria (trade)
Damascus (trade)
Antioch (trade)
Byzantium (trade and)
Tripoli (trade and nonagression)

Imad ad-Din Atabeg Zengi, Atabeg of Mosul stood upon the high fortress wall of his chief city. News had recently arrived of diplomats coming from the Sultanate of Rum and from Tripoli. Neither inspired him any fondness, however he would gladly participate in trade. His land was indeed in need of gold. He also needed a trustful ally in the region. Perhaps the Lord of Damascus would be willing? An envoy was sent to him at once.

To the Lord of Damascus.

As-Salāmu `Alaykum, my friend. The recent coming of the Crusades into our land has caused much unrest. These "Knight" have raped, and pillaged our most revered city, Jerusalem, in the name of their false God. Though they may now greet us as friends, it is only a matter of time before they continue their restless rampage. If and when they do, our chances are slim. They stand as one while we are divided. Therefore alliance between us must be concluded. We may not yet be ready for open war, but I believe we should both secure our interests and give ourselves ample time to strike.

Zengi was more of a opportunist than anything else. He was a strong believer in Islam, of course, but he cared little for the interest of the Arab Sultanates as a whole. The only thing that mattered was to extend his power. He hoped dearly that Damascus would accept his offer.

Damascus

Anushtakin sat on a silk padded divan on the open terrace of his palace overlooking the city of Damascus. Before on a silver tray newly delivered by a servant were message scrolls. Two from his fellow Muslims and the third from the Christian Count Betrand, Lord of Tripoli.

The Sultan of the Seljuks, his people, had sent his greetings as was usual for a potentate of such stature to a fellow Seljuk and ruler of the great Damascus. Mahmud II was as careful as an Egyptian asp snake. Coiling together in safety, appearing to hold back, while preparing to strike. Nomadic tribesmen traveling south in caravans had reported to Anushtakin signs of a Seljuk force gathering in the south of Asia Minor. No doubt the good Sultan had more fear from the Christian Crusaders than his old enemy, the Byzantines.

The second scroll had much more meaning to him. It came from Zengi, Lord of Morsul and leader of the Atabek Turkish hordes. In Zengi it was that Anushtakin saw a great oppertunity. Both Zengi and himself were suffering from pressure from the Seljuk Sultans and the Fatimid Caliphs. An alliance, as Zengi was proposing, would be greatly beneficial to both of them.

The third scroll disturbed him the most, for it came unexpected. Count Betrand, ruler on behalf of Jerusalem of the Principality of Tripoli, was asking for safe passage to come and meet with Anushtakin face-to-face here in Damascus. It was very strange, if not unlikable. Anushtakin had been part of the relieving army at Antioch that came against the crusaders 20 years before. Betrand, not then a count, had fought well and was one of many Christian Knights to gain respect amongst the Saracens.

Anushtakin turned to the young prince beside him. "And how do you think we should respond to these messages, my prince?"

"I think that should accept trade links with Mamhud, but not an alliance," said the prince, sitting on a similar divan chair next to Anushtakin. He continued to sip from a golden goblet of wine.

"And why is that?" asked Anushtakin, knowing the answer but wanting the prince to know more. Statecraft was not easily learned, and the young prince would need it...if he ever made it to the throne.

"Because he's a treacherous one. A snake," replied Toghtekin. "My father disliked him." Just what Anushtakin was thinking.

"You're growing wiser my prince. Very good. And what of the message from the 'Great' Zengi?"

Enthusiasm lit the young princes face. "We should accept his offer! I've admired Zengi since I was a boy! Could I not ride to Mosul and meet him?"

"Maybe someday," smiled Anushtakin, knowing he'd never allow the prince to be a hostage to any Christian or Muslim King. "For now however we will merely accept his offer in the same venue in which it was given."

"Ok, very well uncle," said Toghtekin, sulking. Anushtakin smiled at the title. Since he'd raised the boy, Toghtekin had often reffered to him as his uncle.

"And this Christian lord who wishes to visit Damascus?"

"Let him come! I always wanted to meet an infidel."

"By granting him passage we are sworn by Allah to let him live," said Anushtakin. "As a guest he is inviolate."

"I know, but perhaps we can trade with them? I hear their horses are powerful and I always wanted to ride one," said Prince Toghtekin.

"Very well, if that is your decision."

"It is," said Toghtekin, a serious look on his face. So easy to maneuver, thought Anushtakin.

"Good, then off to your sword lessons with Hakim. I will attend to the letters." Toghtekin marched off in attendance of a dozen palace servants worrying over his clothes and hair, two Mamluk guards following as well. Anushtakin took out parchment, ink, and quill to reply to each letter.


To Mahmud II he wrote a letter of greeting and expressed his enthusiasm at the possibility of creating a trade link between Damascus and Asia Minor.

To Zengi he wrote a letter, agreeing to make an alliance with the powerful Atabek, for each of their mutual protection; he also made the offer of a trade agreement that would strengthen both their states.

To Count Betrand of Tripoli, he wrote a letter of mark, giving him passage through Damascus lands and would send a herald of Anushtakins who would see to it that he went unmolested through the land until he reached Damascus.

Aleppo

The citadel of Aleppo sat quietly on its natural hill, a fifty meter height, above the walled city of Aleppo itself. The walls, some thirty feet in height, strung out around the city for three miles in a complete circuit and had seven gates. It was a natural trading center because of this, with caravans arriving from Baghdad, Mosul, Damascus, Jerusalem, and Antioch. It was a wealthy city, and well armed.

Emir Fakhr al-Mulk Radwan, ruler of the city, walked calmly through his lush green gardens as the evening was coming to a close. Night prayers had just finished and it was nearing time for Radwan to retire to his chambers. He passed a dozen armed, alert guards and walked into his private chambers.

Female servants, mute ones, brought out platters of food and pitchers of red wine. After sitting on a comfortable chair of rich Persian silks, he began nibbling at the food and dismissed the servants, wishing to be alone with his thoughts.

It was just three days ago that he had insulted Anushtakin at the Council of Emirs. The greedy warlord had made a plea for all the Emirs of Lower Syria to unite behind Damascus. He had convinced many of the weaker willed Emirs, but Radwan knew better. If he were to submit to Damascus he’d lose everything he’d gained in the past ten years as sole ruler of Aleppo. His soldiers would enter into the service of Anushtakin. His trade would be regulated by Anushtakin. And he himself would be forced to stay in Damascus for a time to prove his loyalty. It was simply not an offer he would accept.

In his refusal Radwan knew that he’d given Anushtakin the right to declare war, or reason enough. However the fool would never risk attacking Aleppo directly. It had survived an assault during the first of the Christian attacks and had driven off more than a half dozen attacks by fellow Muslim warlords. Aleppo was an impregnable fortress. No army could pierce it.


As he ate his food and contemplated, Radwan did not hear the padded footsteps behind him. Shifting like a ghost from shadow to shadow was a man garbed all in tight black silk. A black sash was tied around his face and head to hide his identity. A single long knife was set sheathed in his belt.

While no army could pierce Aleppo, a member of the Hashshashin could easily do so.

Radwan was about to take another sip of wine when a strong hand wrapped around his mouth and he felt the coldness of a naked blade on his throat. He couldn’t call out and he couldn’t move. A finger from the knife handle was pressing down on a neck nerve, making it harder to breathe and move.

“Do you wish to live?” asked the assassin.

Not being able to answer, Radwan merely nodded.

“Will you submit to Damascus rule? If you do then you will not die.”

Radwan actually considered it for a moment. His life was in present danger. If he agreed for the moment, to this assassin, informally, then he could discount any type of binding agreement to do so. So he nodded. He’d submit.

“Good. Do not scream or yell out or you will die.”

Without another sound the hand was removed and the knife blade gone, the wind blew through the hall. Radwan turned around quickly but saw nothing. No one was there. He quickly rushed to his guards.

“Search the city! An assassin has entered the palace!”

He retired to his rooms and watched from a balcony as soldiers bearing torches raided into the suburbs of the city, searching house to house. Men ran along the city walls, looking for signs of entry. If the assassin was in the city, he’d be found and killed. If he were still in the city…

Radwan turned just in time to see a black clad man standing in the middle of the room. In his hands was a curved bow, bent with an arrow notched and sitting next to his cheek.

“You’re a fool.”

The arrow pierced Radwan in the chest and the foolish Emir fell backwards off the balcony. The assassin, who had never left the room, looked over the edge to watch as the body rolled down the wall and came to a rest in the moat of rocks below.

He notched another arrow; this one with cloth soaked in oil at the end, and lit it with a torch. He aimed high into the sky, over the palace. He set it loose and it flew for hundreds of feet. Then just as quickly and silently as he had entered, the assassin left.

Below the city walls, in a ravine hiding, stood seven hundred soldiers of Damascus led by fifty Mamluks and General Al-Rahied, a servant of Anushtakin, Lord of Damascus. The city gates opened, a traitor paid amongst the guard, and the force entered the city.

The Citadel at Antioch

The Regent Roger of Salerno stood on the high parapet looking out towards the Orontes River. His ramparts climbed the Mons Silpius and with his personal guard he leant against the wall near the top. Darkness had enveloped the land below him hours before, the occasional torch light from a small hovel being the only sign of humanity below.

A few of his men-at-arms patrolled the wall, most of the garrison sleeping peacefully as he should have been. Yet the emissaries that he had received in the day had worried him. Bertrand Count of Tripoli proposed trade, it had taken him only a second to agree to that and he had sent the emissary back to display his warmest welcome to such an agreement.

More worryingly an emissary from Sultan Mahmud II had arrived at much the same time, bringing offers of trade and treaties. Trade would be acceptable, however the thought of a treaty with the Sultan of Rum inspired a fear in Tancred. If he agreed them it was possible that the other Crusader States would be attacked whilst he himself would be treaty bound not to fight the Muslim invaders. Yet if he did not agree he faced the possibility of eventual attack from Rum. The Armies of Antioch could defend themselves from that, but what then of aid to Jerusalem or Tripoli if it was required. Eventually after much musing he had sent the emissary to some quarters for the night whilst he considered his options.

Trade and trade only. His was the poorest of the crusader states and he needed money. The process of building and maintaining roads to his various castles and cities was expensive and left little money for the raising of extra troops. Only that day he had witnessed some of his newer archers training in the courtyard of the citadel. Arrow shafts had pierced just about everything but the straw target, but the Muslim hordes were numerous and he knew if battle came his men would prove their worth to Christianity.

For when war came, it seemed an eventuality to him although he did not know who would be his enemy, the treasury was beginning to fill. His scribes and men who were good with money had calculated his expenditure to include a healthy reserve for use as he saw fit. Most likely it would be spent on bribes to ensure support, whether through donations to the Templar’s or just payments to keep all the Muslims from his lands. Some were acceptable, the city had been won by the treachery of some to Bohemund’s cause, but those who actively sought to remove the Crusaders from the Holy Land were to be mercilessly purged.

To that end he had dispatched an emissary to Jerusalem to speak with King Baldwin and ensure that Antioch still enjoyed the favour of Jerusalem and the bountiful trade that came from that relationship. Yet another had gone to the newly established Templar’s carrying a purse of a hundred gold bezants and an offer of a suitable chapter house in Antioch to ensure their friendship.



Zerdana Castle, The East of the Province of Antioch

The castle had been entrusted to an Englishman, Sir Strongbow Fitzgilbert. He and some twenty English Knights, along with fifty or so Norman counterparts, administered this area in the East of Antioch’s current realms. The castle sat closest to the Muslim stronghold of Aleppo and as such had a large garrison of over two thousand men-at-arms reinforced by newly levied archer companies.

One of those archers had sighted a Muslim trade caravan approaching the walls. It was not an uncommon sight, the castle did trade with all manner of people, their religion was less important than their prices and freedom with which they gave information.

When the caravan got closer the traders were allowed entry to the castle’s outer wall. Some two hundred men-at-arms were on duty, their heavy mail coats seemingly as light as cloth to the well conditioned troops. Some fingered their axes and swords with nervous impatience, it was not unknown for some foolish Muslim’s to try and smuggle weapons into the castle for no other purpose than to get themselves massacred.

This trader was well known though and allowed to go about his business with minimal interference. It was only after his departure that a merchant sought out one of the Captains of the Guard who had subsequently brought him before Sir Strongbow.

“Speak Merchant.”

“My Lord. The Muslim trader who arrived earlier brought news to me of the death of the Emir of Aleppo at the hands of a mysterious assassin.”

“And how might this simple trader know of the cause of the Emir’s demise I might wonder?”

“My Lord he says his brother is, or rather was, a member of the Emir’s guard. Troops from Damascus have seized the city.”

“Seized the city you say? That is no easy feat trader, I have seen the walls of that city. How could such a force approach without our scouts seeing such a thing I wonder.”

“My Lord, the Muslim said it was a small force admitted by treachery. No more than a few hundred men.”

“Very well. Leave me now trader. Your loyalty shall be rewarded”

He motioned for the man to rise and leave, telling one of his servants to present the man with a couple of Bronze Bezants as reward for the information. He turned in his seat to some of the others with him, mostly knights but a pair of his Captains of Foot.

“We must send word to Antioch of this occurrence. Organise it Emilio, a trusted man with the fastest horse we can muster. Captains, double the watch and place some scouts on the border. If the dear Sultan is making movements to ensure the loyalty of his own Emir’s he is looking for trouble. With more men I would be tempted to try and sieze Aleppo when it is so lightly defended, however I feel that this is what they want us to do to draw us into war. Send messangers to Artah and Ma’arrat al Nu’man to warn them of peril. I fear Christianity is once again threatened by the Muslim menace.”

Light was slowly filtering in through the sheer gauze curtains that hung over the stark stone walls of the Prince's upper room. The morning fog was slow to dissipate, adding to the overall murk of the new dawn.

A different sort of fog was affecting Thoros, who raised his head off of his silken pillow. A sharp pain shot through his head as he shielded his eyes from the pale effects of the rising sun. With a bit less pain this time, he moved his head slowly to take in his surroundings. The room was a disaster.

A soft murmur caused him to move a little too quickly, sending fresh waves of pain coursing through his body. His stomach lurched, and he rose as the contents therein started to make their way up and out. He barely made it to an open window, as he disgorged most of what he ate and drank the previous evening.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he turned to see the two women who had spent the night in his bed entwined in each others arms, slowly waking to each others ministrations. He moved rapidly across the room, giving one and then the other a swift kick in the behind. "Get out of here! Haven't you two had enough? You make me sick! Guards! Get these whores out of here!"

Four burly troopers of the Prince's palace guard strode over to the women, grabbing them by their hair and legs, hoisting them up onto their shoulders and then asking, "Where to, m'lord?"

Thoros allowed himself a small grin. "To the military brothel on the waterfront." As the women, now fully awake, began screaming, the guards punched each one hard in the face, rendering them unconscious and thereby easing the pounding in the Prince's head.

After the guards left, Thoros sorted absently through the reports and memos of the previous three days. 'Three days', he thought. 'I've been on this bender for three days. Much catching up to do.'

He focussed on one in particular. Some envoy from somewhere or other was on his way to discuss an alliance. More interminable talks. Exaggerated politeness. Bowing and scraping. But...he WAS the Prince. It was his duty to serve and protect his people. From who? Those goddam muslims were always stirring up trouble, but they were far away, and he had sufficient means to defend anything that they could throw against him.

The constant scheming between the so-called Christian lords was what he had to be wary of. His was a vast land, teeming with raw goods and treasures that he had barely begun to tap into. His father, Constantin I, had trained him well. Warrior, diplomat, financier.......he had used his knowledge to extend his borders and collect taxes.

He had spread his authority at the beginning of his reign by the capture of the fort of Vakha, which commanded one of the most frequented routes between Tarsus and Upper Capadocia. His mastery of this mountain pass made it possible for him to assess taxes on merchandise transported from the port of Ayaz towards the central part of Asia Minor. His dynastic family, the Roupenians, owed a good bit of their power and wealth to this source.

His father had married his two sisters off to strong rulers: Beatrice to to Joscelin of Edessa, and Narad to Gabriel of Melitene. His brother, Leo, was his most trusted advisor. They had been secretly been making plans to add even more to the Principality, at the expense of the muslims, with the help of their friends, the Franks. This branch of the European Crusaders had aided Constantin against the Turks many years ago, and were always eager to further their Prince's holdings....which coincidentally added to their own holdings.

Thoros smiled and said aloud, "Soon, you accursed Mohammedans, soon......"

Krak de Chevaliers

Raymond du Puy de Provence acompanyied by thirty mounted Knights Hospitaller crossed the bridge into the walls of Crak de Chevaliers. The fortress atop a 650-meter high hill along the only route from Antioch to Beirut and the Mediterranean Sea, The fortress has outer walls which are 100' thick, with seven guard towers 30' in diameter. It was from here Raymond knew he controlled the fishing industry aswell as watch for Muslim armys gathering in Syria.

Once they reached the inner walls Raymond dismounted passing his helmet off to one of his officers then looked at one who was still mounted,

"Take the horses round' to the stable, cavalry retire for the evening.."

"M'lord!"

Raymond du Puy, second grand master of the Knights Hospitaller entered the castle keep resting his hand on his sword so it did not sway back and forth as he walked. Once Lord du Puy had changed into his casual robes from his armor he summoned his aid who begun to take note of the reports that would go back to Baldwin,

"Send a message to Jerusalem stating that all is well here, civilan traffic mostly..no enemy units have been spotted"

Raymond strolled across the floor over to a window, he looked out to see the bright blue sky,a warm breeze blew across his face, not a cloud in sight...the veiw from the castle was most breath taking,

"The fishing industry is comming along aswell, very well in fact..respectable tributes to our king will be sent fourth, morale is good, supplys are well stocked, Krak de Chevaliers for the most part is in good shape"

"That is all for now, when you have finished your notes you are dismissed for i am going to rest for a short while..i have become slightly tired from the days patrol"

"Oh..and send a merchant ship with a diplomat on board to Genoa, we must establish relations with them at once.."

"M'lord!"

As soon as the aid completed the notes he left the room, Raymond du Puy poured some wine and returned to the window where he stood looking at the horizon.....

As King Baldwin walked up the hill to the temple, a scout ran up to him and said "A messager from Raymond du Puy de Provence, reporting that no enemy unit's seen yet, and that their fishing buisness is doing well, and that they will send tribute to us sir." King Baldwin looked at the messenger and said "Excellent, excellent, tell him that we haven't seen any Muslim's yet, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't prepare. Go give the messenger our message to Raymond du Puy de Provence of the Hospitlaers." The messenger nodded and ran off to the messenger of Raymond du Puy de Provence.

Genoa

Dominic Nuccio, the great Consul of Genoa, stood on the patio of his palace overlooking the great harbor filled with merchant and military shipping. Five huge cogs flying the flags of Genoa and the benoa Trading Guild sailed into port from their trade mission in the southern Mediterranean. He smiled at the thought of the loads of spices, bullion and artwork pouring into the city off those cogs. He would recieve a cut, of course, which he planned to spend on an addition to the trading fleet.

Then another sight caught his eye.

"Ho! Servant!" he shouted inside.

"Yes, m'lord!" the servent replied.

"What is the insignia on that ship, a ways past the Genoa Trading Cuild sector of the port."

The servant peered through a spyglass then went back to the Consul. "M'lord, it seems to be of Hospitaller origins."

The Consul smiled. More trade for Genoa... he thought to himself. "Allow them in. Treat them well."

"Yes, M'lord!" said the servant. "It will be done!"

The Consul was delighted. Not only was trade booming at the moment, but there was more on the way. He picked up a goblet of fine wine and raised it into the air. "It is a great day for Genoa!" he announced across the open air. He began to drink the wine and went back to his routine of watching the harbor and the merchants.

Genoa

Dominic Nuccio, the great Consul of Genoa, stood on the patio of his palace overlooking the great harbor filled with merchant and military shipping. Five huge cogs flying the flags of Genoa and the benoa Trading Guild sailed into port from their trade mission in the southern Mediterranean. He smiled at the thought of the loads of spices, bullion and artwork pouring into the city off those cogs. He would recieve a cut, of course, which he planned to spend on an addition to the trading fleet.

Then another sight caught his eye.

"Ho! Servant!" he shouted inside.

"Yes, m'lord!" the servent replied.

"What is the insignia on that ship, a ways past the Genoa Trading Cuild sector of the port."

The servant peered through a spyglass then went back to the Consul. "M'lord, it seems to be of Hospitaller origins."

The Consul smiled. More trade for Genoa... he thought to himself. "Allow them in. Treat them well."

"Yes, M'lord!" said the servant. "It will be done!"

The Consul was delighted. Not only was trade booming at the moment, but there was more on the way. He picked up a goblet of fine wine and raised it into the air. "It is a great day for Genoa!" he announced across the open air. He began to drink the wine and went back to his routine of watching the harbor and the merchants.

Off the coast of Genoa

It had been a long journey from Krak de Chevaliers to Genoa but suprizingly the ship sent by Raymond had arrived in one peice untouched by storms or other dangers of the sea. Knight of the order, Bernardus Ouelett, also acting diplomat watched as the cog glided through the water towards the port,

"Such a beautiful place! so much to see..."

Bernardus had been to Italy many times but always enjoyed returning, the sun was high in the blue sky, the clear water sparkled and shimmered in the light...

"They will know who we are when we arrive, i would expect we will be treated with kindness.. we will be on the same level with them, display honor and pride we repersent our king and the order!"

He shouted so all on deck may hear. Once they docked six Hospitallar knights moved off the ship in three's, moved in on both sides of the jetty,faced front and slammed the bottom of their sheilds down bending their heads looking at the ground..they remained very still, Lord Bernardus moved down and stood at the far end beside the gang plank leading off the ship.....he awaited a greeting...

http://hometown.aol.com/robertbrucesikes/images/hospitaller%20bows.gif (http://hometown.aol.com/robertbrucesikes/images/hospitaller%20bows.gif)

Aleppo

General and friend of Anushtakin, Al-Rahied al Rumeihi, stepped over the body of the last rebellious Aleppo guard. The city had been easily taken in the night assault, the gates opened to Al-Rahied and his men beforehand by a traitor within. Rahied had ordered the battle standard of Damascus to be unfurled and paraded through the streets, displaying for all who they were.

Emir Radwan’s guards had been a mixed bunch. Several groups had lain down their swords and bowed as Rahied’s men passed. Others had offered stiff resistance the closer they came to the citadel. However the defenders did not have the time to lower the gates leading within and by morning Rahied had command of the city.

The swarthy warrior picked up a discarded silver cup and look around. He saw an untouched jug of wine and poured himself a drink. “To Allah and Anushtakin!” he toasted silently to himself.

Footsteps echoed and he turned to see three of his officers come into the room. “You found the body?”

“Yes sire,” they bowed. “It was in the moat. The assassin’s arrow was still in him.”

“Sever the head and send it to Damascus for Lord Anushtakin to see. And deliver the message that we are now in control of Aleppo,” ordered Rahied.

“Yes lord.”

Riders bearing the head of Radwan in a basket of spices, too keep it fresh, rode out from the gats of Aleppo in the fading afternoon light. As they did so, the great personal banner of Anushtakin, a curved sword formed in the shape of the Holy Crescent, was unfurled above the battlements of the citadel.

Tortosa, County of Tripoli

An armored, well dressed warrior bearing a standard with the flag of Damascus blazoned upon it road at a brisk pace towards the walled city of Tortosa. In his hands was a message replying to the Count Betrand, and a signet that would allow him to pass through Muslim lands unmolested on a trip to Damascus.

OOC: I'll just assume that I've heard of your assault on Aleppo. Since Zengi did conquer the city first in real life, I'll think that he'll be pretty mad since you "stole" it from him.

The fury of a demon took hold of Zengi, and shapeless sounds of anger came straggling forth out of his throat. "How dare they!?" He bellowed as he slammed his fists together. Tidings from Damascus had just arrived. As expected they had accepted to conclude an alliance, but had impetuously marched on the city of Aleppo; Zengi's first move. His plans for expansion were thwarted once more. "An envoy, now!" At his behest, a servant came staggering inside the chamber. His entire frame shook violently in fear as he threw himself on the ground and awaited his master's command....

To the Lord of Damascus.

The Great Zengi, the Pillar of Islam and the Pride of all Muslims congratulates you dearly for your most recent acquisition. Unfortunately however, the city was part of Turkish Expansion Plans and if you wish to safeguard this alliance, the Great Zengi asks that you either pay tribute or promise to leave the northern emirates at the Great Zengi's mercy.

ilā l-liqā'

Zengi was indeed easily angered, and when so his wrath was known to be great and terrible.

The Prince stood with arms folded on the ramparts of his sea-fortress which rose from the shores of the Armenian Bay in Portella. His gaze was fixed on the far-off land of the County of Tripoli, which in his mind's eye was a newly aquired territory of Roger of Salerno. A newly aquired territory that he, Thoros, had intentions of helping Roger aquire.

Absently, he said to his aide, "Captain, what do you think of extending Cilicia's borders from Kyrrhos down to the port city of Hrosos?"

Captain Tatoul, himself a descendant of Gagik I who had established the first Armenian Kingdom years ago, replied warily. "Sire, Kyrrhos is currently a part of Edessa. And it's sister-city, Kilis, is about to be taken by whatever muslim cur is over-running Aleppo. Hrosos is governed by Lord Roger in Antioch. Antioch could use our help. I'm not so sure about Edessa."

"Shrewd answer, Captain. Let me put it more plainly. We have the forces and cash to get what we want. How would you apply each to the furtherance of my desires?"

Tatoul, after a moments hesitation, dove in. "M'lord, it's obvious that Roger would forgoe Hrosos for a chance to extend his lands down towards Tortosa, putting him in a position to join the King of Jerusalem in a position of strength. As far as Kyrrhos, why stop there? We could push all the way to the Euphrates then head north-west and hook up into our northern province of Kokison. Not only do we gain a huge section of Edessa, but we gain access to shipping on the Euphrates and and wedge of territory from the Seljuks, may God curse them as dogs."

Thoros chuckled. "I like the way you think, Captain. Or rather should I say 'Baron Tatoul', which is what you'll become if you can pull this off." He became serious. "Have the emissaries escorted to Antioch with a proposal to Roger: the port of Hrosos in exchange for Tripoli. And let me handle Edessa. Now....off with you!"

(Manth, Tripoli will enter into a trade and nonagression agreement.)

Upon the Count's reception of the letter, he merrily relieved himself of the troubles he faced as Count and began his voyage through the seemingly endless desert. His personal guard of knights followed, to protect him from any bandits along the way. No sooner, though, had the troubles of Tripoli left him, than the worries of traveling through Muslim lands had hit him. Nervous, hot, tired, and thirsty, he finally arrived in the grand city of Damascus. Having never personally been there himself, he was somewhat amazed at the civilization of the Arabs.

Leaving his bewilderment, wonder, and awe behind him, he approached the steps to the palace of Ashnushkatin, and requested and audience with him.

To the Lord of Damascus.

The Great Zengi, the Pillar of Islam and the Pride of all Muslims congratulates you dearly for your most recent acquisition. Unfortunately however, the city was part of Turkish Expansion Plans and if you wish to safeguard this alliance, the Great Zengi asks that you either pay tribute or promise to leave the northern emirates at the Great Zengi's mercy.

ilā l-liqā'

To the Lord Zengi,

On behalf of Prince Toghtekin as Regent of Damascus I greet the Great Atabek and hope God has graced him with good health. The city of Aleppo remains part of an Emirate that belongs to the southern part of Syria, and therefore in the domain of Damascus. I see no way in which such a small insignificant city would need be under your great scrutiny.

As your new ally I would simply beg understand a plan I have. With Aleppo as a base to form up my armies, Damascus will be able to strike deep into the Infidel lands of this 'Principality' of Antioch.

Perhaps, with the Great Zengi's assistance, you would be willing to help in the conquest of Zandara, the next stepping stone after Aleppo.

Signed,
Anushtakin
Lord Regent of Damascus

A man dressed in purple silks and wearing a silver turban on his head, flanked by two Mamluk guards, walked forward out of the front palace entrance to greet the arrival of Count Betrand of Tripoli.

"Assalamu Alakum Wa Rahmatulah Wa Barakatuh," said the well dressed courtier. He bowed to the count who looked confused. Then the man spoke in highly accented french. "Peace, mercy, and blessings be upon you from Allah."

"And peace be to you," responded the count.

"Your knights will be escorted to a barracks, just below the hill there," the man pointed. "You may enter the palace."

Betrand allowed himself to be led off by the courtier who led him through several marvelous rooms. The white marble columns were gilded with gold. The floors ingrained with lines of silver. Silk tapestries hung from the walls. The servants had prepared the palace in its full regalia.

The courtier brought Betrand into a room that held a large bath of water, modeled after the Roman Baths in Greece. "Please, you may bathe here and then dry yourself. A servant will bring you a fresh robe to wear."

With a clap of the hands two servants entered, heads bowed, and held out towels, scented soap, and a blue silk robe of royal making. Another servant entered and stripped Betrand before he could protest, then pushed him into the water.

"I will return momentarily. His lordship will meet you after you have finished cleaning up at dinner." Without another word the courtier left, leaving Betrand speechless in the warm bath water.

Bertrand, who was indeed speechless, not only because he was stripped by a man he had never met before, but more at the grandeur of the palace and bath itself, took advantage of the bathing opportunity, as he had not cleansed himself since he was last in Tripoli.

He was envious of the riches these heathens had, but, at the same time, this seemed to encourage him that friendship, at least temporary, could greatly benefit his fledgling county.

Upon completing his bathing, he delicately placed himself within the soft robe, and, feeling quite refreshed, awaited himself for the lordship's arrival at dinner. He lavished in the thoughts of his posessing all this gold, silver, and silk, and, for a fleeting second, pretended it was all his.

His dreams as he drifted to sleep in the velvet chair were those of utter bliss and contentment.

The courtier re-entered the room to find Betrand just finishing putting on his robe. The man smiled and bowed.

"Good, I hope you enjoyed your bath. Prince Toghtekin and Lord Regent Anushtakin await you in the dining hall."

With a brisk shove and pace the courtier brought the count through a series of halls and courtyards filled with flowing fountains until they came to a red laquered door with gold paint over it, emblazoning the crescent of Islam. The doors opened as two servants within dragged them inward. A gong sounded somewhere and Betrand entered a wide marble hall.

At its center was a table with white table cloth. Stuff sitting pillows lay before each place setting. A silver plate was set on top next to a knife and spoon. Gold goblets filled with Greek wine stood next to it.

At the end of the table sat a young boy, about 15 years of age, dressed as well as a king. Beside him sat a powerful squat form of a man with a black goatee and mustache with shining deep eyes, dressed equally rich. They stood as Betrand entered and bowed to him, honoring their guest.

Betrand bowed back in the European fashion.

"Welcome Count Betrand of Tripoli," said the older man in near perfect French. "I am Anushtakin, regent and ruler of Damascus by the divine will of Allah on behalf of Prince Toghtekin." He motioned to the boy next to him, who seemed more preoccupied with staring at Betrand in wonder than in keeping proper ettiquete. "Please, sit, join us for dinner."

Anushtakin sat and clapped his hands. Servants rushed out bearing trenchers of fresh cooked chicken and newly baked loaves of bread. Bowls of dates and pears, fruits of all kinds, followed. Anushtakin motioned for Betrand to sit in the seat in front of him, next to the Prince.

To the Lord Zengi,

On behalf of Prince Toghtekin as Regent of Damascus I greet the Great Atabek and hope God has graced him with good health. The city of Aleppo remains part of an Emirate that belongs to the southern part of Syria, and therefore in the domain of Damascus. I see no way in which such a small insignificant city would need be under your great scrutiny.

As your new ally I would simply beg understand a plan I have. With Aleppo as a base to form up my armies, Damascus will be able to strike deep into the Infidel lands of this 'Principality' of Antioch.

Perhaps, with the Great Zengi's assistance, you would be willing to help in the conquest of Zandara, the next stepping stone after Aleppo.

Signed,
Anushtakin
Lord Regent of Damascus

Ahlan wa sahlan, friend.

You wish to sue the might of Zengi's warriors? The Great Zengi is willing to lend their strenght in your war agaisn't the heathens of the Principality of Antioch. However, Damascus will be expected to return the favor when the Great Zengi begins his military campaign. To assure you will respect these conditions, the Lord of Damascus must swear an oath on the Qur’an and pledge himself into going into war alongside him when God in his wisdom see it fit.

Bertrand seated himself, glancing at the stare of the prince before turning his gaze to the wondrous plates of food being brought out. Deciding to do away with all his pre-meal religious customs in respect to his hosts, he simply took a piece of chicken and set it on his plate, awaiting the inevitable "What brings you here" question.

Raymond sat up in his bed when loud knocks were heard on the two large oak doors to his chambers,

"ENTER!" He shouted..

A knight entered covered in dust and dirt from the dessert, he bowed then walked in,

"M'lord! i have news from Aleppo!"

Lord du Puy climed out of his bed, leaned over a basin filled with water and washed his face,

"Speak" he replyed in a low gruff voice..

"M'lord, Aleppo has been occupyed by.."

du Puy spun around,

"By whom..Crusaders?..the muslims?"

The knight cleared his throat and continued..

"General Al-Rahied al Rumeihi...friend of Anushtakin, the city and it's defences are theirs ..intact..."

Raymond took a deep breath and let it out slowly,

"Where did you hear this? where i say!"

The knight replyed in a shaky voice,

"A caravan..m..my lord.."

"Reliable?...it must be..why would they lie of such a thing...."

"Alright..i want a messenger sent to the king at once informing him of this if he already does not know....this news must be a week old at least, have our sentrys on alert..we have the eyes from here, anything that moves i want to know about it!..have the messenger receive orders, written orders..that i, myself will reveiw personally when they arrive back here"

"M'lord!"

"I want to know exactly whats going on..things could get out of hand rather quickly, any diplomats..nobles..messengers..ANYTHING! SEND THEM DIRECTLY TO ME!"

"M'lord!"

"Alright..get out of here.."

The knight bowed then rushed off closing the doors behind him. Raymond walked to his window looking out at the valley below, if anything was comming their way they couldn't be missed....the whole garrison would be to arms and ready by the time the enemy even got close, that is if they even wanted to act agressively towards this position.

Raymond got dressed in his uniform and headed to the courtyard, he passed by some knights training with their swords against one another, as he kept going he passed by his archers who had deadly aim as they were very well trained longbowmen, most were noble so they had been practicing their entire lives.

In case they were to come under attack extra supplys and provisions were being brought into the castle being placed in their stores,

" I want everyone to arms who can fit in this courtyard!, practice..practice..practice! untill i see fit..i want to ensure that everyone is preforming correctly while in battle! if we are to fight, we will fight with all that we have..NOTHING LESS! i will not loose a man to poor swordsmanship....."

Raymond addressed several officers standing in a group at the base of the keep,

"I want you to go around and observe, if you see somthing wrong..RIGHT IT!"

"M'lord!" they all replyed..

Lord du Puy moved towards a platform with a chair fixed on it where he took a seat watching the men get into groups getting ready to train. Perhalps this was a little too cautious, but then the saying you can never be too cautious entered the mind of Raymond who observed the men attentively, the sound of steel on steel rang out through the air as swords met....

Music to my ears...any enemys of ours..let them come He thought...

The Knights Hospitallars prepared themselves for the action that was sure to come, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not a month from now..but things would heat up in the Holy Land and soon...

Off the coast of Genoa

It had been a long journey from Krak de Chevaliers to Genoa but suprizingly the ship sent by Raymond had arrived in one peice untouched by storms or other dangers of the sea. Knight of the order, Bernardus Ouelett, also acting diplomat watched as the cog glided through the water towards the port,

"Such a beautiful place! so much to see..."

Bernardus had been to Italy many times but always enjoyed returning, the sun was high in the blue sky, the clear water sparkled and shimmered in the light...

"They will know who we are when we arrive, i would expect we will be treated with kindness.. we will be on the same level with them, display honor and pride we repersent our king and the order!"

He shouted so all on deck may hear. Once they docked six Hospitallar knights moved off the ship in three's, moved in on both sides of the jetty,faced front and slammed the bottom of their sheilds down bending their heads looking at the ground..they remained very still, Lord Bernardus moved down and stood at the far end beside the gang plank leading off the ship.....he awaited a greeting...

http://hometown.aol.com/robertbrucesikes/images/hospitaller%20bows.gif

Genoa

The Consul Nuccio walked down the street accompanied by his train of ten men-at-arms, two servants, and two representatives of the Genoa Trading Guild. He approached the Hospitallers and bowed.

"Greetings!" he announced to the newly arrived diplomatic party. "And welcome to the great state of Genoa! What business have you come to conduct, good sirs?"

[Knights Templar]

The husky scent of the harsh desert winds, laced with the tint of recovering greenery and jangling opulence assailed a pair of dark nostrils, two fierce studs of blazing azure watched the tumult of the chaotic realm of flitting merchants with indifference. Standing on Solomon, under the cruel gaze of the newborn sun, the intense heat trying to claim you in scorching embrace, it was difficult to muster an appreciation for anything beyond beguiling thirst.

Only when the shrillness of bells ruptured his reverie did the eyes flicker back to life, passion returning to his weary heart, watching in silence as beneath him a wave fell to their knees, a ripple of a murmuring as the congregation began their gentle chant that was but a thousand voices in dutiful ecstasy. Such devotion from the conquered, such love squandered in relentless weaves of words, a tearing pity shredded in his breast, but for the matter of miles and sand they would be born in Byzantine and saved from oblivion.

"Deus le volt." a whisper lost on the wind.

The stirrings of war in the North had not eluded him, so he was unsurprised when he noticed the approach of the King, turning swiftly he headed towards his position, ready to show salutations to a Lord of Christendom.

The caravan had halted for an all-too-brief hour in order to feed and water the pack animals. Camels were virtually no problem, but the horses needed much more attention. Captain Tartoul mused on the relative merits of each animal and came to the conclusion that all animals should be slaughtered and consumed.

Candir Kale, a fat merchant of Mamistra, was impatient to move on. "M'lord Captain. Shouldn't we be on our way by now? There are only a few hours left by which we can make use of the daylight." Tartoul squinted at the portly man with obvious distaste. "Afraid of the dark, are you Master Kale? Afraid that some barbaric muslim bandit will slit your throat as you sleep? It's quite possible you know." Kale swallowed hard. "N-n-not exactly afraid, Captain. Cautious would be the word. You know we have to get to Antioch as soon as possible, before the annual sandstorms begin. And don't forget the gifts and gewgaws for the Regent and his family. They must be protected."

'Yes', Tartoul thought, 'Protected so that you can wheedle ten times the profit from Roger, who has not much to spare.' "M'lord Kale, we'll be there in ample time to solidify an agreement with the Regent. All you need to do is sit on your camel an enjoy the journey." He allowed himself a small grin and thought, 'If you only knew, you fat bastard, what the agreement entailed, you'd shit those huge drawers of yours.' He laughed out loud and yelled, "Let's move them out, commander. We have another day to travel before we can truly rest."

Tartoul wondered idly how the Prince was making out up in Edessa. Holy Mother of God, if they could pull this off, the power and riches that awaited were almost too much to contemplate. If not....well, a short life and a merry one................

Far to the northwest, the heavily armed entourage was still two days journey from Ourfa, seat of Baldwin of Bourcq's citadel. The Count was no fool. He knew that his strategic location that spanned many of the over-land caravan routes was a lure for the greedier rulers of this part of the world. He'd ordered a string of forts along them, to protect the merchants from bandits and other armed raiding parties. But this left him in a sort of a bind, as he had relatively few forces left to protect other sections of the County. As such, his northern and southern borders were constantly harassed by muslim bandits and raiding parties of the Seljuks and Syrians.

Prince Thoros aimed to change this situation with an audacious plan that would not only secure Baldwin's borders from attack, but make them both richer and more powerful than at present.

His plan was relatively simple: cede some of Edessa to Cilicia in exchange for security and Cilicia's superior trading capabilities. Thoros had nearly twice the armed forces Baldwin had, and quite a few more bezants to invest in trade agreements with the barbaric tribesmen of the east. Perhaps even as far as fabled Persia and the land of the Yellow Men....Cathay. That, coupled with his scheme to add Tripoli to Roger of Antioch's realm, would triple Cilicia's revenue and enable further exploits.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two horsemen arriving at a gallop. He shielded his eyes from the sun in order to see who it was, and was pleased to see his two best scouts, Vasil and Phocas. "What news, my scouts?"

The two men brought their steeds to a dusty halt, and dismounting bent one knee to the Prince. "God's blessings on you, my lord Prince. We have seen a column of mounted knights a day out headed directly this way. Last night, we crept near enough to identify them as Count Baldwin's men. They were in no particular hurry, but neither did they squander time."

Thoros chuckled. "Baldwin's men, heh? Rest assured that he wanted you to see them. Had he not, his men would have given you a run for your money. They are undoubtedly his elite horsemen, renowned for their ferocity. That he allowed you to return without a fight means that he knows we're on our way to see him."

"Undoubtedly, m'lord", said Vasil. "But we wanted to make sure that the Edessans would remember us for a long time."

Thoros narrowed his eyes to slits. "And how, pray tell, did you accomplish that, Vasil?"

Phocas answered. "Well, my Prince, one of the merchants riding along with the column had two plump daughters. We.....escorted.....them late last night to our sparse camp a few miles away, and introduced them to the, ah, pleasures of life."

For a few seconds, they thought they were dead men, as Thoros' visage remanined impassive. Then the Prince smiled broadly and guffawed, laughing so hard that he had to catch his breath before he could speak. "The pleasures of life, eh? Very well, I'll make it alright with Baldwin and the merchant when we meet. But until then, keep it in your pants, understand?"

"Yes, m'lord, we shall endevour to do that very thing."

With a bow, they were off, again riding towards the east, leaving a cloud of dust to billow back into the troops.

The Citadel at Antioch

The cool breeze wafted in through the openings in the walls as Roger of Salerno relaxed himself. He had allowed himself a small period of rest in bed after his morning prayer. A knock at the flimsy wooden door awoke him from the soft dream he had been having.

“Enter.”

One of his guards entered along with a knight, clearly dirty from a long time spent on the road. Roger could barely make out the coat of arms that emblazoned his armour and tunic.

“Good sir knight. What news do you bring.”

“My Lord I have rode North for some days now with the most worrying and urgent news. Count Bertrand departed Tripoli some two weeks ago, his destination was the heathen city of Damascus. He has gone to the Muslims my Lord.”

“WHAT?!?”

Roger raised his voice to a shout. The heathens were only there to be traded with at the very least. A Christian Lord visiting their city, out of choice, was not heard of.

“My Lord, I and some of the others feel that this could lead to Tripoli falling in with the infidels and we do not wish for that to happen. We seek the protection of Antioch and its armies to prevent the lands of God falling to them and their wicked ways.”

“You shall have it Knight. We shall not let the lands of Christ fall to these scum.”

He rose from his bed and began to dress himself, thinking as he did so. As Regent he was bound to defend Antioch, but as a Christian he would defend all of Gods land.

“Guard. Summon the Knights of my council. Send messengers to Alexandretta, St Simeon and Harim and inform them to send men to Antioch. Send to Lord Dushon at al-Bara to send five hundred men to Zerdana. We must represent a strong force to the Muslims there to prevent them trying anything. I shall take my Army south and secure the lands of Tripoli against the Muslim invaders. Send a messenger to Jabala to warn Duke D’Agionstino that we approach and require his men as well. Organise supplies and water for the march. We leave at dawn tomorrow.”

Antioch, The Next Day

The column of men and Knights stretched far into the distance, flags fluttering above them like a guardian cloud. Five thousand men-at-arms and bowmen along with four hundred Knights accompanied Roger south towards Tripoli. They would not seek to shed the blood of fellow Christians. The Lords of Tripoli must be extremely worried by Bertrand’s sudden adherence to Muslim summons and would rejoice at his proclamation as an enemy of Christ for his heretical beliefs.

War horns sounded and banners were unfurled to flutter in the breeze. They had to be quick or the moment of opportunity would pass. The Principality of Antioch would endeavour to seize the lands of Tripoli to protect them from the heathen scourge of Islam.

Roger rode at the head of his Army. It consisted of most of the garrison of Antioch and it was for that purpose that he had summoned men from other ports and castles of the safer Western Parts of his land. A scratch garrison had been left in place at Antioch, mainly formed of newly trained men-at-arms along with experienced Knights to further train them. Roger had spread his forces in the West thin by taking so many. He hoped for a speedy campaign in Tripoli with no battle losses and the acquisition of further funds and troops to help purge the world of the Muslim heathens.

Nobody in his right mind would call John II Komnenos physically handsome. He was the kind of man who had to get by on personality and skill because his looks sure weren’t the kind that impressed the women - or the cows. Despite his unappealing looks many people knew him as John the Handsome, or the Beautiful, referring, not to his physical body, but instead to his soul. His parents had been quite pious and dedicated and he surpassed them in his absolute dedication to his God and his people. He was known for lecturing couriers in public if he thought they lived in excessive luxury.

Right how, he was not lecturing anybody, but rather, standing on a balcony overlooking a largely quiet Constantinople. The sun was going down, and the people were busy bedding in for the night. He enjoyed moments like this when he could get away from that business known as government for a while and be alone.

“John?” The voice came from behind him; a man’s voice. He started and turned, and then immediately relaxed when he saw who it was.

“John,” he said to his friend John Axouch. “Come to trouble me?”

“No,” Axouch replied, laughing. “I merely wanted to see how you are doing. I may be the Grand Domestic, but am I not also a trusted friend?”

His words got a nod from the monarch. As the Grand Domestic, the Turk whom John had known since childhood commanded Byzantium’s armies in the field. However, he did not limit his advice to military concerns, and was among the Emperor’s closest advisors in all his decisions regarding the empire’s continued health.

“Indeed you are, John,” John II replied.

For example, when the emissary from Rum to the north had approached with his message less than a week ago, Axouch had been present. John II had read the message and handed it to his old friend, who had also read it. They had dismissed the emissary telling him that he would be summoned back shortly, and discussed the appropriate reply. In the end they had agreed that they should accept the proposal in the message, and had sent the emissary home at once, escorted by twenty Byzantine knights. Now, the only thing left was to wait in Constantinople and hope the man arrived securely.

“I have been hearing disturbing tales from outside Byzantium,” Axouch said following an idle moment looking out on the city below.

“Aleppo?” asked the Emperor, and Axouch nodded.

“It seems all is not well beneath the Crescent,” he said.

“I received confirmation only this morning,” John II said. “Muslims have the same issues my own fellow Christians have, it seems.”

“Too many fanatics, you mean?” guessed Axouch.

“Exactly, John; that foolish man the Pope promises any man who takes the cross he won’t have to go to Hell for his sins, and so criminals, thugs and thieves from Europe come, and in droves, causing nothing but trouble for us in the long run. How can men be that foolish?"

“I can’t blame them, really,” Axouch mused. “They believe the Pope and have committed horrible sins in many cases; theft, murder, rape, and worse.”

“Absolution is granted directly from God, not from a foolish old man!” barked John II.

“Relax, John,” Axouch said. “We know that. Most do not.”

“In any case,” the Emperor’s voice calmed as he continued. “With this fresh trouble there is opportunity. If the Muslims stay divided, and the Christian Kingdoms do not unify then we have a chane to rebuild in relative safety in the chaos. We can only hope."

“I feel the Muslims are already uniting slowly, John,” said Axouch.

“Indeed they are,” said John II. “But this will take time in which we can prepare. While at least some of the Muslim nations remain divided…”

“The plans we are making can succeed,” finished Axouch.

“They will succeed," said the Emperor, his voice boiling with determination. “And all will be settled.”

OOC:

Research and writing combined took more time than I thought they would. Sorry, guys. Now I have arrived.

Genoa

The Consul Nuccio walked down the street accompanied by his train of ten men-at-arms, two servants, and two representatives of the Genoa Trading Guild. He approached the Hospitallers and bowed.

"Greetings!" he announced to the newly arrived diplomatic party. "And welcome to the great state of Genoa! What business have you come to conduct, good sirs?"

Lord Bernardus returned the bow and walked through the middle of his guards and stopped at the end in front of the Consul,

"Greetings to you friend, i am Lord Bernardus of the Knights Hospitallar, sent by Grand Master Raymond du Puy to arrange trade aswell as friendship with your noble peoples here on in Genoa"

Bernardus spoke in latin,

"We have also brought you gifts from the Holy Land such as, gold, spices and silks..fine purfumes and some jewelery as a gift..it was to be for the offical who met us first at the docks so we may display our good will"

He waited for the Consul's reply in silence, still the knights at his sides still faced the ground and none had moved...

Krac de Chevaliers

The knights and men at arms trained through the day into the late afternoon, everyone was dripping in sweat from the days practice. Even Raymond had joined in instructing men on where they went wrong, when he was semi pleased they were dismissed to dinner. After he had ate himself du Puy headed out through the courtyard, up the stairs and onto the Ramparts of the fortress, Raymond strolled slowly looking over the road going along the side of the hill.

The night was quiet, the many stars looked as if they had been taken in a handful and thrown into the sky, the valley was darkened and silent although the slight sound of a wispering breeze was present.....

du Puy often came up here by himself at night, it gave him time to clear his head, think and observe the beauty that god had created for man kind, suddenly a shuffling sound behind him caused Raymond to turn around facing a spear..

'Sorry M'lord! i should have known.." said one of the sentrys who came up the stairs behind him..

He lowered his head

"Carry on Sentry, have no worries..it is your duty"

Raymond walked past the guard heading down the stairs, he walked through the Gothic cloister by the fortress yard into the Chapel. Raymond du Puy, Grand Master of the Knights Hospitallar got on his knees looking towards the large cross at the front, moonlight shone through the large rear stained glass windows...there he prayed in silence as he did every evening, after prayer he would go to bed and wait for what morning had in store.

The following day


Raymond rode through the valley with twenty knights behind him heading back to the fortress after a patrol, during the days ride they had learned that Count Bertrand had traveled to the Muslims for what ever reason, a caravan told them in return for some Bezants du Puy had on him, they thought this news would be easy money in their pockets..although the didn't get as much as they expected.

Grand Master du Puy was outraged by the counts decision to go amongst these people, this was disgraceful but not completely unheard of, the bloody heathens would use their ways to try and turn Bertrand against his own people, the group climbed the hill, rode over the moat on the draw bridge then came to a halt.

Raymond dismounted and as soon as his feet touched the ground he stormed off towards his tower followed by one of his knights close behind, the doors flung open to his quarters,

"THIS IS AN OUT RAGE! what if Count Bertrand is conspiring against us at this very moment!"

"Then it will be his downfall my lord..not ours.."

"He could also be just arranging trade..and ..AHH!" Raymond paced back and fourth...

"Have a messenger dispatched to Antioch, Jerusalam, and the knights of the Templar..have them send members of their respectable factions here to the fort..there are things we must discuss"

"M'lord"

"You are dismissed sir, thank you.." he waved the Knight towards the door..

Raymond took off his helmet tossing it on the bed, he rushed over to the table taking a silver cup pouring red wine in it....

"Disgraceful...ha..surrounding himself with heathens..in gods eyes..DISGRACEFUL!"

"War is upon is...the war for this Holy Land....the land which i have sworn to protect, fight, and die for in the name of the lord almighty.." He wisped..

A knock on the door interupted his thoughts,

"Enter!"

A Knight stepped in,

"M'lord! word has arrived that Antioch marches against Tripoli...news has came down the river.."

Raymond sighed,

"Ready 1100 men, five hundred knights, six hundred men at arms to be exact..we must ensure that Tripoli does not fall under the control of the Muslim scum! i would expect Roger to pass by here and that is where we will combine our forces...to be sure send dispatch riders ahead to inform them that they may use Krac de Chevaliers as a staging point if they wish! we hold the road....inform the commanders that we will hold a meeting shortly..and inform the knight who just left that the orders i have givne him are UNESSASARY as of now! disguard them.."

"M'lord!"

The Knight went to inform the commanders of the arranged meeting set by Raymond....

The Cilician capitol was awash in a glorious sunrise. Sis was situated in a valley between two rivers in the geographical center of the country. Word had come from the south that events were unfolding rapidly in the region of the Antiochians and Tripolians. Bertrand of Tripoli had apparently consented to an alliance of some sort with the muslim dogs of Aleppo. An unheard of breach of Christian conduct.

In response, Roger of Antioch was marching on Tripoli and had made a request of the Pope for an Inquisitor to attend the proceedings. Roger's intent was to save the Christian-held lands of Tripoli from being absorbed by the heathens.

While Thoros was in Edessa, his brother, Leon, was left in charge of governing the Principality. Upon hearing of these events, he immediately ordered one-hundred mounted knights of Cilicia to the southern border of Antioch, there to meet up with the invading army of Roger of Salerno. At the same time, he ordered one thousand, one hundred knights and men-at-arms to the Antiochan port city of Hrosos in support of Roger, as Roger had pulled all but a handfull of troops from that city and region. Hrosos was an important city, as it handled much trade with the Byzantine Empire.......and was in a direct line to the Syrian capitol of Aleppo. Leon was apparently just as shrewd as his older brother. He wouldn't miss an opportunity to gain either land or wealth when he saw it.

He turned to an advisor. "M'lord Tsintas, would you draft a message to the Prince as to current events and get it by the fastest means possible to him in Edessa? And make sure I know when he's on his way back. He's going to need additional protection when those Mohammedan pigs get riled up."

Tsintas bowed. "Yes, m'lord."

Konya

The visiting Byzantine knights are shown to an audence chamber of Mahmud's palace, where white-robed girls attend them with platters of grapes and dates, jugs of warm, spiced wine, and small cups of strong Turkish coffee. Mahmud had given instructions that just as the Seljuk had shown himself a fierce opponent to the Byzantines in war, so would he prove himself a gracious host in peace. Meanwhile, deep within the palace a newly-returned ambassador seeks out Mahmud, who he finds in an upper room, originally meant for leisure but under Mahmud converted to a temproary council room. Maps lie scattered across the central table, and a balcony looks out over the barracks below the palace. Mahmud himself looks up from a map of southern Rum and its neighbors as a guard ushers the man in.

"Almehd. Word has come to me that you bring a reply."

"Yes, Great Sultan. I am entrusted with this letter."

Almehd prostrates himself, producing a carefully rolled scroll from within a leather case. Mahmud receives the offered scroll and breaks the seal, unrolling it and carefully poring over it for several minutes. Finally he sets the letter down and turns to Almehd.

"Rise, my friend. Allah favor us. I have new duties for you. You know the state of affairs?"

"Little fresh news reached my ears during the journey, Great Sultan, and know little of what has passed here since my departure, save what is common knowledge, nor of our efforts in the Crusader states."

"Two have already sworn treaties, though I put little faith in the honor of these infidels, who have shown themselves thrice-treacherous in the past. Still they will hold to their word so long as it is in their interest at the very least. As for the others, thirty years may have passed but I doubt they have forgotten the might of Seljuk arms, or our strength in battle."

Mahmud gestures past the balcony, where a company of Seljuk horsement patiently await his word. They were just a few of many answering the call of the Sultan - Konya is alive with soldiers, both new levies pouring in and veteran troops preparing to move out and join the main army to the northeast.

"They may have forced their way through our lands at long last, but though they won the battle I doubt they have forgotten the scars they bear, or the tens of thousands who they left in the earth at Nicaea. It is thanks to Seljuk arms that not but one in six Crusaders ever lived to set eyes upon the walls of Jerusalem."

"What you say is true, Great Sultan. And yet Jerusalem they have, and we lost much in the wars as well. Surely we must consider-"

"Consider what?"

The Sultan's eyes flash dangerously.

"That the Egyptans are lazy and soft, that they grew used to power and let their armies grow fat, and that it is they who allowed the enemy to conquer the Holy Land while Seljuks died to defend it? That these Crusaders, after such barbarities and massacres, are the new power? That they sit in Jerusalem and allow no Muslim pilgrim entrance? Well that I have considered, Almehd. Or did you not wonder why I had chosen to send you to forge a new alliance?"

Almehd bows his head, accepting the wrath of his ruler wordlessly. It is the safest way to handle a man more at home on the battlefield than in the court.

"Bear in mind, Almehd, that we are not the merchants of Damascus or the fat rulers of Egypt. We are a warrior race, descended from the great Seljuk! If the new rulers of Jerusalem will have peace, let it be so. If they will have war, let them come! We will slay them once more upon the battlefields their companions died on, and over the very bones of their fathers!"

Mahmud turns abruptly from his councilor.

"Still you have done well, and carried out my instructions faithfully. For this you will be rewarded, but for now, leave me. I will have the scribes prepare a letter for you to bear; also, see that the men of the Roman Emperor are given fresh horses for their return journey. I shall make arrangements for Byzantine traders to receive safe passage through our lands, as well as those others who have accepted offers of trade. Also, summon to me my daughter; I have words for her to hear."

King Baldwin the 2nd rode at the head of the knight's as they thundered towards Krac de Chevillers, to maintain the peace in that area, the Cross's shone on the sheild's of the knight's, as they thundred towards their desistnation. It was a hot, long, and greuling journey, but a journey worthy of the Soldier's of Christ, each soldier thought to themselve's, and thus went on through the hot desert, towards the fort. They were 2,500 strong, a good sized amount, kicking up a large dust, as they rode across the desert.

Lord Bernardus returned the bow and walked through the middle of his guards and stopped at the end in front of the Consul,

"Greetings to you friend, i am Lord Bernardus of the Knights Hospitallar, sent by Grand Master Raymond du Puy to arrange trade aswell as friendship with your noble peoples here on in Genoa"

Bernardus spoke in latin,

"We have also brought you gifts from the Holy Land such as, gold, spices and silks..fine purfumes and some jewelery as a gift..it was to be for the offical who met us first at the docks so we may display our good will"

He waited for the Consul's reply in silence, still the knights at his sides still faced the ground and none had moved...



"Welcome, Lord Bernardus, to fair Genoa." said the Consul. "Your friendship is welcome here, as is your trade." Nuccio pointed to the fleet of Cogs with the Genoa Trading Guild flag flying from the masts.

"Indeed it is." said a man behind Nuccio. "I am Guild Master Mariucci, the head of the Genoa Trading Guild. May I have some of my men inspect the goods from your lands? They are sure to fetch a good price at the Old Port Authority."

King Baldwin the 2nd rode at the head of the knight's as they thundered towards Krac de Chevillers, to maintain the peace in that area, the Cross's shone on the sheild's of the knight's, as they thundred towards their desistnation. It was a hot, long, and greuling journey, but a journey worthy of the Soldier's of Christ, each soldier thought to themselve's, and thus went on through the hot desert, towards the fort. They were 2,500 strong, a good sized amount, kicking up a large dust, as they rode across the desert.


Krac de Chevaliers, afew days later

"TROOPS ON THE APPROACH!" Yelled a sentry from the walls

Knights, men at arms and archers rushed to the walls to veiw a large number of soldiers headed their way. Grand Master Raymond du Puy emerged from his tower rushing across the courtyard holding his sword handle in it's scabbard as it swung back and fourth attached to his waist, he climed the stairs onto the walls where he, himself watched closely..

In a large cloud of dust he seen a mass of horsemen...

"Cavalry...and alot of them..i..i can't make out their colours from here, MAN THE WALLS! BRING UP THE DRAWBRIDGE!"

"Sir! it appears to be the kings banner....no mistake! the shape.."

Raymond leaned foward then turned back yelling at the top of his lungs,

"HIS MAJESTY INCOMMING!"

du Puy turned to one of his officer,

"Guy! i want two hundred of our finest knights formed up in the courtyard, ensure my quarters are quickly cleaned and everything is in order for his majesty to rest! NOW!"

"M'lord!"

Shouts from the courtyard were heard as the Hospitallar's were being formed up to make an impression on Baldwin. Raymond watched as they got closer,

"It is the king..acompanyied by over a thousand soldiers, those rumors of Count Bertrand have proven to be true.."

Earlier that day the Grand Master received a letter from Antioch stating that if Bertrand tryed to return to Tripoli capture and detain him,patrols had been dispatched, it also stated that the other Crusader factions were pleased that they still had the loyalty of the Knight Hospitallar, Raymond wouldn't have it any other way.....du Puy glanced behind him to see that the soldiers were almost formed up below, he rushed down to join them so that he may greet his royal highness, King of Jerusalam.

King Baldwin saw from where he was that they sentry's were busy at work, and he said to his men "We're almost to the fort!, let's go!" They thundered up to the fort, and when they got to the bridge, he got off his horse, and said to Raymond du Puy as he dismounted "Your fort's in full readiness I see, good good, I've had a rather long journey, and so have my men, so we'd be obliged if we could clean ourselves up a bit."

"Welcome, Lord Bernardus, to fair Genoa." said the Consul. "Your friendship is welcome here, as is your trade." Nuccio pointed to the fleet of Cogs with the Genoa Trading Guild flag flying from the masts.

"Indeed it is." said a man behind Nuccio. "I am Guild Master Mariucci, the head of the Genoa Trading Guild. May I have some of my men inspect the goods from your lands? They are sure to fetch a good price at the Old Port Authority."

Lord Benardus nodded,

"Thank you! and greetings to you aswell Guild Master Mariucci, and yes you may inspect our goods but please accept the gifts we have offered aswell!"

He smiled and gave a friendly gesture towards their ship, he raised his hand in a backwards motion and at the same time the Hospitallar knights took two steps back taking up their previous posture, still looking downwards...

"Please...come along, i hope our peoples can acomplish much together..i am also here to establish a non-agression act between the Knights Hospitallar and Genoa"

He said as they walked towards the ship....

King Baldwin saw from where he was that they sentry's were busy at work, and he said to his men "We're almost to the fort!, let's go!" They thundered up to the fort, and when they got to the bridge, he got off his horse, and said to Raymond du Puy as he dismounted "Your fort's in full readiness I see, good good, I've had a rather long journey, and so have my men, so we'd be obliged if we could clean ourselves up a bit."

The sentrys above the draw bridge let out a call,

"Incomming!"

Raymond stood there awaiting the Kings entrance, he could hear the sound of hooves on the ground approaching..then he seen King Baldwin II ahead of other knights who rode slowly behind him, he looked proud, powerful and strong. All at one time the Hospitallar knights on the parade grounds lowered their sheilds and dropped their heads, as Baldwin dismounted Raymond took a knee at his feet and lowered his head..

Your fort's in full readiness I see, good good, I've had a rather long journey, and so have my men, so we'd be obliged if we could clean ourselves up a bit."[/

Grand Master Raymond du Puy spoke,

"Your majesty, greetings on behalf of Krac de Chevaliers, it is always important to remain in a state of readyness incause we are threatened"

He paused,

"My personall tower has been prepared for you your highness, and your men may enter and rest where they please..the baths shall also be prepared as it is hot and dusty out there and you have traveled far"

He kept his head lowered as he spoke....

Hospitallar Knight bowing:
http://hometown.aol.com/robertbrucesikes/images/hospitaller%20bows.gif (http://hometown.aol.com/robertbrucesikes/images/hospitaller%20bows.gif)

King Baldwin replied "That is true, you've done well Raymond du Puy, I shall go to the tower at once, then I'll come down and discuss our plan's for attack, my men and I are ready whenever we finish the plan's." He went towards the tower that had been prepared for him.

Lord Benardus nodded,

"Thank you! and greetings to you aswell Guild Master Mariucci, and yes you may inspect our goods but please accept the gifts we have offered aswell!"

He smiled and gave a friendly gesture towards their ship, he raised his hand in a backwards motion and at the same time the Hospitallar knights took two steps back taking up their previous posture, still looking downwards...

"Please...come along, i hope our peoples can acomplish much together..i am also here to establish a non-agression act between the Knights Hospitallar and Genoa"

He said as they walked towards the ship....

"A non-aggression act is always in Genoa's favor." said the Consul. "Genoa has no official military, but the Genoa Trading Guild commands a sizeable mercenary force. As Consul, I have power over the Genoa Trading Guild and am able to rent them out to well paying nations."

"And the gifts are also very much appreciated, Lord Benardus." said Mariucci. "I am very interested in the deals the Knights Hospitallar have to offer to the Guild."

Leading the twenty Byzantine knights sent to Konya was Decarch Marcus Acilius. He sat in silence, while around him, nineteen great warriors, and at his command on this mission in to Seljuk territory quietly enjoyed the Sultan’s kindness. Sipping quietly on coffee, and looking somewhat appreciatively at one of the serving girls, he contemplated how odd the idea of peacefully entering Muslim territories seemed to him. He had always believed and in his young days hoped that entering Rum or any Muslim land would involve facing, and hopefully defeating some great Muslim host in battle.

“How times change,” he muttered quietly.

“Did you say something, Decarch?” Acilius looked to the knight who had spoke, a young knight as yet untried in any combat.

“I was only commenting on how things have changed since Jerusalem became a Christian land. Twenty years ago, we would only have crossed in to a Muslim nation to convert and kill the Muslims themselves. Now, we talk peacefully.”

“We’re actually not doing much talking ourselves,” said fellow Decarch Decius Uulius, a knight who had seen about as much action as Acilius, but was subordinated to him on this important mission because he was not as diplomatically skillful as Acilius was and would likely have caused an incident if left in command. Uulius did not mind. He was interested in fighting, not in those stifling diplomatic niceties.

“We carry the Emperor’s voice on this quest,” Acilius said.

“True enough,” said a third knight, from the squad Uulius commanded. “But I just cannot like what we are doing here. These men are Muslims.”

“Not worshipping Christ does not make a man foolish,” Acilius replied. “His Majesty and his government entrusted us with an important message.”

“It still doesn’t feel right,” said the young man.

“Be that as it may,” Acilius said. “His Majesty would have us succeed here.”

Having cancelled out that conversation, Marcus waited with his fellow knights until word instructing them to ride home arrived from the Mahmud. They were given fresh horses, to help them return home more swiftly to Byzantium. Marcus took note that this surprised at least some knights among his forces. He led his men back home.

Imperial Palace, Constantinople – Several Days Afterwards.

“Majesty, we have received new word from the Great Sultan.” The servant stood with the message pouch in his hands. John II was sitting in the small room which he used as office in the Imperial Palace. It was from this room theoretically, that he ran the Empire, though it was really more that he managed the bureaucracy, as best it could be managed, keeping his Empire running as smoothly as it possibly could.

“Give it to me,” he ordered the servant from where he sat at his desk. The servant did and in moments the Great Sultan’s words were being read.

“Summon the Grand Domestic,” he said as he lowered the message.

Not long after John II and the Grand Domestic had a long conversation, and within weeks messengers were sent out, and Byzantium’s armies prepared themselves.

OOC:

I actually wrote this more to keep with the flow of things than because it needed to be posted. Hope it was enjoyable.

In case you're confused, Decarch is a Byzantine military title. From what I've read, a Decarch was like a squad leader, a sergeant.

King Baldwin replied "That is true, you've done well Raymond du Puy, I shall go to the tower at once, then I'll come down and discuss our plan's for attack, my men and I are ready whenever we finish the plan's." He went towards the tower that had been prepared for him.

Raymond replyed silmply and humbly,

"Your Majesty"

One of the Hospitallar Knights approached, took a bow then led Baldwin to Raymonds tower where he would have a chance to clean up and rest. When the king had left his soldiers entered the gates in coloums, were permitted to break off and rest where ever they wanted to take a seat, the baths were also prepared for officers first.

Raymond dismissed his Hospitallars and went to the kitchen where he ordered that the best meal they had to be cooked in time for dinner. It was not every day the king vistied his post, he would make a good impression for his Majesty.

The guard was doubled on the walls to show that they were in a state of readyness, more than they had to be. Raymond went to the great hall where he sat by himself and wrote of the days occurances in a journal he kept so that some day he may look back and remember the details of such a time as the Crusades....

"A non-aggression act is always in Genoa's favor." said the Consul. "Genoa has no official military, but the Genoa Trading Guild commands a sizeable mercenary force. As Consul, I have power over the Genoa Trading Guild and am able to rent them out to well paying nations."

"And the gifts are also very much appreciated, Lord Benardus." said Mariucci. "I am very interested in the deals the Knights Hospitallar have to offer to the Guild."

Lord Benardus replyed

"Very interesting Consul, you repersent a very respectable organization"

Benardus turned his attention towards Mariucci,

"It is my pleasure" He gave a warm smile then continued..

"We have access to all the Holy Land posesses, stones of colour, gold, spices, silks, horses so fine they are fit for kings, fruit, wines..."

He paused as they boarded the ship to go over some of the items they had brought with them,

"The Knights Hospitallar also control the fishing industry in the Holy Land...it would be quite an investment to get involved"

"This way good sirs..the holds.."

He gestured towards the lower decks then went down, stacks of barrels were scattered about, a fine white Arabian horse was tied up in the corner...

"Behold.."

"Indeed, my Hospitallar friend." said Mariucci. "That horse, it's beauty lights up the whole room!"

"So, Lord Benardus, how much do the contents of the hold cost?" asked the Consul. "I am willing to pay a fair price and can guarantee that the items will not go to waste."

"Indeed, my Hospitallar friend." said Mariucci. "That horse, it's beauty lights up the whole room!"

"So, Lord Benardus, how much do the contents of the hold cost?" asked the Consul. "I am willing to pay a fair price and can guarantee that the items will not go to waste."

Benardus walked over to the horse and ran his fingers of it's shiney white coat,

"He is beautiful....i will give him to you Consul as our final gift, to of course show our good will..we are friends now, friends are kind to one another yes?"

He turned to the two men and spoke,

"What is your offer? feel free to inspect the items, included here are coloured stones, spices, wines and silks..of the finest quality, perhalps we can arrange a deal for future buisness..if you tell us what it is you need, i, Lord Benardus will personally see that you get it....all you must do is ask.."

OOC: Im not sure what price to ask...so just make a decent offer..

OOC: I don't really know what a good price is, either.

OOC: I don't really know what a good price is, either.

OOC: Umm..it's alright just be like.. We offer (Insert # here) then i will accept lol..and be like..well thats a decent offer!

"Hmm...I think a good price would be ___ bezants." said the Consul. "Would you agree?"

When King Baldwin had gotten to his room, he dismissed the Knight that had led him saying "Thank you, I'll wash and get ready to come down, bid tell your master that." He walked in and started to undress to wash himself, so that he would look presentable to Raymond du Puy, and like a King of Jerusalem.

"Hmm...I think a good price would be ___ bezants." said the Consul. "Would you agree?"

Benardus nodded,

"That offer is fair, i accept and i hope you are satisfyed with your purchased goods aswell as the fine beast before you, he is fit for a man of your class indeed"



Reply to Candistans post:

The guards all through out the castle were doubled for the kings saftey. The great hall was filled with servants, food, nobles and Arabian dancers moving about to the music. Raymond had made sure everything was perfect right down to the last detail, a chair was ready for the king to seat himself in the middle of the longest table that was at the far end of the room, du Puy's chair was right beside Baldwins...everyone waited to eat, a knight approched and spoke in Raymonds ear,

"Sir his Majesty says he will be down shortly"

"Very well sir, dismissed"

"M'lord"

Outside the sentrys patrolled the walls, the sun was setting on the horizon casting off a beautiful orange colour across the sky, soldiers went around and lit all the torches attached to the castle walls and the kings banner was raised over Krac de Chavalier.

King Baldwin changed into his royal robes and he put his crown on his head and walked downstairs to the great hall, the knight's bowing as he walked past, nodded to each. Finally, he arrived at the great hall, and sat down in his chair next to Raymond du Puy and said "Looks like a good feast's Raymond, you're cook's did a good job. Now that everyone's here, we can say grace."

King Baldwin changed into his royal robes and he put his crown on his head and walked downstairs to the great hall, the knight's bowing as he walked past, nodded to each. Finally, he arrived at the great hall, and sat down in his chair next to Raymond du Puy and said "Looks like a good feast's Raymond, you're cook's did a good job. Now that everyone's here, we can say grace."

Everyone in the great hall stood once the king entered. He looked more like a king then a warrior now, he was clad in fine clothes with a gold crown resting upon his head, he moved holding his chin high with pride and honor, when he sat everyone else took their seats immeaditly,

"They cooked it for you sire', all are glad to see you here, honoring us with your very presence, your light shines in this time of darkness your Majesty..it boosts our morale and reminds us who we are..and why we are here"

"We are servants of god, when he cannot direct us..you lead us onwards.."

Raymond lowered his head gripping his hands together tightly, he closed his eyes. After the feast the Grand Master retired to his 'Temporary' room, it had been a long day.

OOC: I jumped ahead a bit for the next post...

Corbournne;12658241']Bertrand seated himself, glancing at the stare of the prince before turning his gaze to the wondrous plates of food being brought out. Deciding to do away with all his pre-meal religious customs in respect to his hosts, he simply took a piece of chicken and set it on his plate, awaiting the inevitable "What brings you here" question.

"So my dear Count," said Anushtakin. "You expressed the desire to make a trade agreement and visit our city in the hopes of speaking. Well, we are speaking now. So speak, tell me what it is you so desire that it makes you risk your life to travel from the safety of Tripoli to Damascus?"

Aleppo, 1 week previous

Al-Rahied al Rumeihi, general and trusted servant of Lord Anushtakin of Damascus, stalked through the filthily gilded halls of the Citadel of Aleppo. The decor was one of a fat, greedy merchant. Radwan was rumored to be a whoreson when it came to such things, but Rahied had never seen such naked decadence; not like in Damascus where everything was blessed by the imams and cared for by the hand of Allah.

An officer of his appeared at his shoulder. "My general, the city is fully secured as you wished. Of Emir Radwan's four hundred guards, seventy-three were killed; a hundred were wounded beyond hope and killed. Twenty-seven have fled the city. The remaining two hundred have sworn loyalty before Allah to Lord Anushtakin and to serve you."

"Good," smiled Rahied, some good news for once. "Mix them in with the three companies we have here. You've checked the city's stockpiles as well?"

His captain smiled like a boy who'd won the first round of Hakid on the eve of Ramadan. "You would not believe the extravigence of it my lord. Radwan had more than thirty hundred caskets of preserved food and wine below in the citadel store rooms. Enough to feed our garrison for more than two years, rationed of course. Of the five wells in the city, three remain within the citadel itself and the other two in the city proper.

The is an armory stocked with fifty Christian-made cross bows, a hundred of our superior curved bows, three hundred new made swords, five hundred javelins, and enough armor and shields to arm a hundred men in full armor and gear."

Rahied was taken aback. "How did that fat man ever get all this?"

"I spoke with one of his scribes. It appears that the Emir stole the crossbows when the Crusaders left them after trying to take Aleppo less than a decade ago. The rest he has been having forged and bought privately. It would seem that the Emir thought to hold out and be independent of both Damascus and Mosul."

"Good thing his lordship thought to bring in the Hashshashin. I don't think we'd have taken it so quickly and bloodlessly without them," commented Rahied, not liking the fact that it put them, while not in payment wise, in a bit of debt towards the religious assassins.

"Also my lord, reports speak of several large bodies of armed men, Christian war bands, moving near the border. My spies report that the King of Jerusalem himself is soon to arrive at Krak de Chevaliers. Antioch is also marshaling a force."

"For what?" asked Rahied, suddenly weary.

"I do not know my lord, but I am looking into it," replied the captain.

OOC: I've replied to your letter by the way, Damascus.

Of all the emirates or sultanates of the middle east, Zengi was the most ambitious.

Upon the High Seat in Mosul, the Great Zengi brooded. He contemplated in silent his grand scheme for the conquest of Edassa. The plan had been drawn out by his most trusted generals and himself a few months ago. Of course, he never had the chance to put it to execution. Since the Crusades had taken Jerusalem, the Holy Lands had been relatively quiet, devoid of large conflicts of any sort. Long had he now waited to strike. He dreamt of the perfect opportunity. Any sign of weakness from these christian devils would do; large troop movements, a weakening on the border. Everything could be exploited at his advantage. The county of Edassa was the weakest of all the Christian States. It was poor and ill-arm. It would not be difficult to conquer it. The diffculty remained in the neighboring states. If they were to send out reinforcements, his plan could very well be thwarted. He had to strike quickly and efficiently. And if Damascus continued to cause turmoil in the South, it might just be possible that the King of Jerusalem would simply let Edassa fend off the endless hordes of Zengi alone...

"Master!" the shivering yelp interrupted his chain of thought and had abruplty brought him back to reality. That messanger better had good news. "Speak quickly!" Zengi replied. "Large battalions of christian troops are manoeuvring through the Holy Lands. It seems they have assembled somewhere in the County of Tripoli."

The excitement was almost too much to bear. "How many!?"

"Sources vary, my master. But we think they are preparing for an assault on Aleppo."

"Good, you have done well to inform me of this matter. Now go and send word to the Army. Assemble the men!"

Surely this was Providence! Surely this was an unworldly act! Zengi was sure of it. In the heavens above, Allah must have been looking down upon him. Perhaps He had chosen Zengi as his hand in the matter. The Great Hammer with which Allah would exact his wrath. In any case, Zengi was blessed beyond doubt.

The road to Krac de Chevelliers
Several Miles from the Fortress, Two Days after the King arrival

Roger was at the head of the main column of his army. Scouts had ranged out from him in all directions, giving forewarning of the approach and covering the flanks and rear of the large body of men. His personal bodyguard of some fifty knights rode with him, followed by a company of Men-at-Arms and the rest of the army that stretched back into the distance. Carts carrying water and food were near the middle of the column, along with others carrying make shift canvas coverings for the Knights at night.

The hot sun beat down on them all, the men-at-arms were carrying their mail coats rather than wearing them but still they sweated as they marched. The knights were little better off. Their warhorses wore full barding and they rode with lance and armour, ready for battle if an enemy came whilst the infantry prepared themselves.

In the distance one of the lead scouts was returning to the Regent. He wore no armour and his horse was not barded, allowing for greater speed and stamina in the Eastern sun. As the figure got closer two of Rogers bodyguard moved out infront of him to guide the man in.

“My Lord. I have passed word to the Hospitallers of your approach. They welcome you with open arms.”

“Very well. Any news from our other scouts?”

“None M’lord.”

“Sound the halt. Order the camp to be prepared here, just off the road. My bodyguard and I will travel to Crac de Chevaliers to discuss our plans with our fellow Christians. The King of Jerusalem is there?”

“M’Lord his flag flies.”

“Excellent. Duke D’Larche is in charge of the camp, report to him for your orders. The remaining forward scouts will accompany me to the castle to act as messengers should we need it.”

The man bowed and moved his horse away from Roger who signalled to his bodyguard to continue their advance. Free of the constraints of the marching men they moved faster and within a couple of hours they were riding up the causeway towards the imposing fortress, the flag of the Principality of Antioch held high above them by the mounted standard bearer. All the knights had pennants tied to their lances and these fluttered in the breeze of both their advance and that which naturally came to them on such a high place. The gates and portcullis were open so Roger and his entourage rode straight in, the cross on their riding robes clearly visible to the guards.


Zerdana Castle, Two Days previously

Sir Strongbow Fitzgilbert surveyed the new recruits. Some three hundred new Men-at-Arms had arrived at the castle over the previous days, many of them had virtually no training yet full equipment. It seemed the Lord at al-Bara had plenty of equipment yet little time for training his new levies.

Strongbow turned to his Italian second.

“Well the extra men will be useful if we can get them fit to fight and not just carry water. Have them drill in the sun for a few days, work up their endurance. Then have them fight in the sun until they are as near as we can get them to our men.”

The Knight nodded and moved off towards them, shouting orders as he did so. Strongbow turned back to the work that was being done to strengthen the fortifications, they hadn’t turned rotten during their period of inactivity, yet there was always something that he could do to make them appear better.


General News (Semi-IC)
Trade with Jerusalem, The Templars, Hospitallers and Armenian Cilicia has all been formalised. The principality hopes an offer sent to the County of Edessa will also be accepted. Armenian Cilicia has an alliance treaty with Antioch, whilst Roger of Salerno will discuss a similar proposal with the King of Jerusalem. The Lords of Tripoli that do not cede to Antioch will be considered enemies of Christ if they continue to follow a Muslim influenced Count. The Castles at Al-Marqab and Montterrand have sent word to Antioch that they wish to remain Christian and will place themselves at the Regent’s command should he ask it.
Around 2,500 new Men-at-Arms have been levied along with 1000 new archers and several companies of heavy infantry.

The road to Krac de Chevelliers
Several Miles from the Fortress, Two Days after the King arrival

Roger was at the head of the main column of his army. Scouts had ranged out from him in all directions, giving forewarning of the approach and covering the flanks and rear of the large body of men. His personal bodyguard of some fifty knights rode with him, followed by a company of Men-at-Arms and the rest of the army that stretched back into the distance. Carts carrying water and food were near the middle of the column, along with others carrying make shift canvas coverings for the Knights at night.

The hot sun beat down on them all, the men-at-arms were carrying their mail coats rather than wearing them but still they sweated as they marched. The knights were little better off. Their warhorses wore full barding and they rode with lance and armour, ready for battle if an enemy came whilst the infantry prepared themselves.

In the distance one of the lead scouts was returning to the Regent. He wore no armour and his horse was not barded, allowing for greater speed and stamina in the Eastern sun. As the figure got closer two of Rogers bodyguard moved out infront of him to guide the man in.

“My Lord. I have passed word to the Hospitallers of your approach. They welcome you with open arms.”

“Very well. Any news from our other scouts?”

“None M’lord.”

“Sound the halt. Order the camp to be prepared here, just off the road. My bodyguard and I will travel to Crac de Chevaliers to discuss our plans with our fellow Christians. The King of Jerusalem is there?”

“M’Lord his flag flies.”

“Excellent. Duke D’Larche is in charge of the camp, report to him for your orders. The remaining forward scouts will accompany me to the castle to act as messengers should we need it.”

The man bowed and moved his horse away from Roger who signalled to his bodyguard to continue their advance. Free of the constraints of the marching men they moved faster and within a couple of hours they were riding up the causeway towards the imposing fortress, the flag of the Principality of Antioch held high above them by the mounted standard bearer. All the knights had pennants tied to their lances and these fluttered in the breeze of both their advance and that which naturally came to them on such a high place. The gates and portcullis were open so Roger and his entourage rode straight in, the cross on their riding robes clearly visible to the guards.


Zerdana Castle, Two Days previously

Sir Strongbow Fitzgilbert surveyed the new recruits. Some three hundred new Men-at-Arms had arrived at the castle over the previous days, many of them had virtually no training yet full equipment. It seemed the Lord at al-Bara had plenty of equipment yet little time for training his new levies.

Strongbow turned to his Italian second.

“Well the extra men will be useful if we can get them fit to fight and not just carry water. Have them drill in the sun for a few days, work up their endurance. Then have them fight in the sun until they are as near as we can get them to our men.”

The Knight nodded and moved off towards them, shouting orders as he did so. Strongbow turned back to the work that was being done to strengthen the fortifications, they hadn’t turned rotten during their period of inactivity, yet there was always something that he could do to make them appear better.


General News (Semi-IC)
Trade with Jerusalem, The Templars, Hospitallers and Armenian Cilicia has all been formalised. The principality hopes an offer sent to the County of Edessa will also be accepted. Armenian Cilicia has an alliance treaty with Antioch, whilst Roger of Salerno will discuss a similar proposal with the King of Jerusalem. The Lords of Tripoli that do not cede to Antioch will be considered enemies of Christ if they continue to follow a Muslim influenced Count. The Castles at Al-Marqab and Montterrand have sent word to Antioch that they wish to remain Christian and will place themselves at the Regent’s command should he ask it.
Around 2,500 new Men-at-Arms have been levied along with 1000 new archers and several companies of heavy infantry.

OOC: Calizorinstan, i just ended off the dinner..i just jumped ahead a bit to get these plans moving..as time is limited.


Krac de Chevalier

Grand Master Raymond du Puy had just finished getting ready for the day dressed in his military attire. He entered the courtyard heading to the chapel for morning prayer when he seen the gates open and a dusty dirty figure stop on horseback in front of the officer in charge of the gates, he strolled over curious as to who he was...


"Who is this soldier?" he asked the officer..

"A messenger from Roger of Salerno! he approaches as we speak M'lord!"

Raymond looked to the messenger who nodded to confirm, the grand master spoke...

"Tell our Christian brother, Roger of Salerno that he is welcome here with open arms!..thank you for the message sir!"

The rider took off full speed back through the gates back to where he had came from..

"Wonderful! things are comming together perfectly..i will be in the chapel, inform me of any other riders at once."

"M'lord!'

Later that day....

"Incomming!" came the call from the fortress walls...

du Puy had been watching for Roger for afew hours but was in the shade speaking with one of his Captians, he rushed back onto the walls to see a coloum of cavalry riding up the causeway towards the fortress gate, the sun was high in the sky and the heat was intense....

"OPEN THE GATES! GET SOME WATER DOWN THERE!"

He seen the Knights flags attached to their lances fluttering in the wind but the largest most visible was the flag of the Principality of Antioch,

"Superb!"

"Captian L'roche! come with me!"

One of the Hospitallar knights followed Raymond down the stairs and into the courtyard where they may greet their fellow Christians at the gates. The guards did not hesitate at all letting the Regent pass, all lowered their heads in respect as he and his escort rode by their posts....

Raymond stepped foward followed by his Captian, Roger was in sight and stopped before them,

"Roger of Salerno! i greet you on behalf of the Knights Hospitallar!"

He stepped foward giving him a nod then gestured around the courtyard where Baldwin II's troops were scattered about resting in the shade,

"His Majesty, King of Jerusalam Baldwin II also graces us with his presence here at Krac de Chevaliers!"

"First before we get down to things help yourself to our wells and water your horses, it has been a long hard journey from Antioch..."

Mahmud watches as the door swings shut upon his daughter and her handmaidens. She had known for some time that she would eventually have to leave her homeland, and had taken the news as well as could be expected, which is to say, stoically. She would now engage in prayer and preparations, and spend her last few days in the land of her birth before departing to a foreign city and an unknown husband.

Mahmud rises from his seat and claps his hands. Several viziers enter the throne room, escorted by servants.

"I have orders! See to it that the system of beacons is well-manned and prepared. As for the army, how go our preparations?"

One man steps forward, prostrating himself.

"Great Sultan. Almost twenty thousand troops are gathered southeast of the city. The remainder have been sent to man forts along the northeastern marches and the border with Edessa. Edessa is weak, my lord, we can defend against any attack they manage to muster long enough for the main body of troops to arrive."

"And what of the levies? How goes the raising of new troops?"

"Great Sultan, all is going as you desire. Spearmen and horsemen are being mustered even now in Konya. Tens of thousands of additional men will be ready to answer your call as soon as they are trained and equipped."

"Good. See to it that all is done with due care. Ready my personal guard. I ride in the morning to join the troops. Da'ud shall govern the city until my return. Now depart - it is time for evening prayer."

King Baldwin came down dressed in his armor, ready for any battle that would happen in the course of the day, he grabbed his sword and say Raymond du Puy and said "I am ready for anything that happens, I and my men can hold the fort, we'll defend it with our live's if we have to."

King Baldwin came down dressed in his armor, ready for any battle that would happen in the course of the day, he grabbed his sword and say Raymond du Puy and said "I am ready for anything that happens, I and my men can hold the fort, we'll defend it with our live's if we have to."

Raymond turned around to see the king behind him gripping his sword in it's scabbard, the Grand Master took a knee quickly..

"Your Majesty! we are all ready for anything that may occur., if it does come down to it..we will defend the fortress to the very last man standing"

He paused breifly not looking up but spoke,

"Roger of Salerno has also arrived with his army"

Konya

After several weeks, the Seljuk ambassador from Edessa has returned. He is quickly shown into the palace and brought before Mahmud.

"What of your mission?"

"Nothing, Great Sultan. The Count of Edessa kept us waiting, never granting us an audience. After a week of this, I decided that he had no intention of seeing us, and thus I took my leave of the Edessans and returned here to bring you news of this affront."

Mahmud frowns.

"An insult I will not suffer lightly. You have served me well, even though nought has come of it. Now I require your service in a different manner. Seek out the barracks. You are to lead a company of horsemen when I leave to join the army at first light tomorrow."

"Yes, Great Sultan."

A day later, east and a little north of Konya

A procession of horsemen enters the camp of the Seljuk army, moving through the outlying men towards the center. At first it garners little attention, but as it passes the first few soldiers someone recognizes the rider in their midst, and a cheer goes up. News rapidly spreads through the camp - Mahmud has arrived to lead them personally into battle.

Mahmud himself rides through the camp, acknowledging cheering soldiers with a raised hand. As he approaches the center of the camp, an officer hurries out of a gilded tent, falling to the ground in front of the Sultan's horse.

"Great Sultan! We had not expected you for several hours...!"

"Rest easy, my servant. The journey was swift and untroubled. Rise, and make all things ready to break camp. We must strike before the enemy can assemble his forces. We move as soon as the signal comes."

Byzantine Army Encampment.

Lucius Pontidius was the serving Domestic of the Scholae Tagma (Scholar’s Brigade), an impressively powerful unit of four thousand heavy cavalry soldiers whose reputation, and intense ferocity made people question the name that it bore. In truth, the name was earned long ago, when the unit had been largely ceremonial. These days, the horsemen were elite knights, among the finest horse Byzantium possessed. This was not the first time this unit had enjoyed that status, but the Empire’s army was only now recovering from a decline in its size, and overall quality. Mercenaries were once more replaced by Byzantine Citizenry in the ranks, a sight which warmed Pontidius’ heart.

It was nice to see the work begun by Alexius I would be continued by John II and not just left withering upon the vine. The soldiers riding past him in parade were well-trained, and impressively armed with fresh equipment. The men and the horses were well fed, and in a healthy state due to excellent medical care.

“More importantly,” he murmured. “Every man among them is a Byzantine.”

Lucius Pontidius hated mercenaries. Professional soldiers could be trusted in a battle, and had more than cash motivating them. Mercenaries would often switch sides when serving in one country’s army was not appealing anymore.

“Fantastic sight, is it not, Domestic?” Grand Domestic John Axouch was visiting the men in this camp before the great campaign the army would soon embark upon. Tomorrow the knights Pontidius commanded, and many more soldiers now making last preparations and keeping busy with preparatory training would break camp, and go on the march towards a hopefully quick, fairly easy military campaign.

“It is fantastic indeed, Grand Domestic,” he responded.

Imperial Palace, Constantinople.

“Then the Grand Domestic assures me all is prepared?” John II asked the messenger, who had brought him the communication from his Turkish general.

“That is correct, Majesty,” the man responded.

“Very well,” the monarch said with a nod. “The men leave tomorrow. Send the signal and instruct my servants to make ready for my departure. I go to lead the army."

“Majesty,” the man nodded and left. John II Komnenos, Emperor of Rome leaned back in his chair, gazing up at his office's ceiling. He prayed to God this worked in the end.

Byzantium might not survive a failure.

"Great Sultan! Great Sultan!"

A messenger, still panting, was escorted into the Sultan's tent.

"You bring word from the west."

It was not a question.

"Yes. John's forces are moving."

Mahmud breaths a long sigh. A moment of calm prevails before the tent springs into action.

"Break camp!" calls a vizier. "Let every man look to his arms! We move when the beacons are lit!"

King Baldwin said "Excellent, what's our plan of attack, who stay's and guards Krac de Chevillers while we are out on our raid? We should go and meet Roger and bring him in and let us have a council of war." He walked out towards Roger of Salerno to meet him, and inform him of their plans.

King Baldwin said "Excellent, what's our plan of attack, who stay's and guards Krac de Chevillers while we are out on our raid? We should go and meet Roger and bring him in and let us have a council of war." He walked out towards Roger of Salerno to meet him, and inform him of their plans.

Raymond replied,

"I am not sure as of yet your majesty, i received a letter from Roger when they left Antioch stating that once the lands are recovered they fall under your rightful reign...he believed it best that the Knights Hospitallar, Knights Templar and you remain here at Krac de Chevaliers to display strength on our borders sire'...if we remove too many of our soldiers sending them in that direction it will weaken our other positions..as you know Krac de Chevaliers is a key point to maintain control of the roads..if our borders are threatened they will have ot get through here first to continue.."

"If they Muslims choose to strike now would be their time, and we stand in their way..sire.."

du Puy kept his head lowered as he spoke to the King of Jerusalam.....

King Baldwin said "I shall stay here with the Knights Templar and Hospitaller as you said, it's a good idea that I shall implement. For as you say, if I send too many of our soliders off to fight, and leave little to defend this fort, nay shall it hold up well. I guess you and Roger are going to attack Syria, or Egypt then, for I should think that you should attack the less powerful ones, in order to draw the stronger one's out and weaken them."

King Baldwin said "I shall stay here with the Knights Templar and Hospitaller as you said, it's a good idea that I shall implement. For as you say, if I send too many of our soliders off to fight, and leave little to defend this fort, nay shall it hold up well. I guess you and Roger are going to attack Syria, or Egypt then, for I should think that you should attack the less powerful ones, in order to draw the stronger one's out and weaken them."

Raymond continued,

"Your Majesty i will remain here at the fortress, our current dealings are with the disgraceful traitor Count Bertrand who has went among the Muslim heathens...Tripoli will be ceased by our Christian brothers once all forces have been assembled and we hold a counsil here"

He paused breifly,

"I personally am not worried about the saftey of this fortress your highness, we have enough food for five years stock piled deep within this mountian, our defences will stop any army of any size...do not fear for the heathens will never breech these walls!"

OOC: At any time you can give my charactor the order to rise. As it stands now Christian forces from all over the holy land will assemble near the fortress and the leaders commanding the armys will discuss the battle plans...we are trying to take the traitors lands without blood shed....

OOC:Okay, cool

IC:
King Baldwin said "You are correct in your assesment Raymond, you may now rise, I will study our defense's. What's the weak part of our defense's, so we can fix it?"

IC:

“Majesty, I bring news from the outriders!”

From his saddle, John II looked up and saw the knight come riding up on a frothing horse in his direction. He raised his hand, to signal the knight where he was, and the young man immediately began slowing to a trot.

“Majesty,” he said when he was close. “As ordered, the scouts lit the beacon upon finding it. Mahmud will soon know we are close to entering Armenia.”

“Excellent,” said the Emperor, his voice jubilant. “Let us continue.”

OOC:

New Manth, seeing as how both Thrashia and Xeraph are offline right now, I propose to wait before posting more here about what happens with the invasion forces.

OOC:Okay, cool

IC:
King Baldwin said "You are correct in your assesment Raymond, you may now rise, I will study our defense's. What's the weak part of our defense's, so we can fix it?"

du Puy stood up raising his head,

"Thank you your majesty, all the information you require can be found in my quarters where you are currently staying..everything should be there, past records from Crusaders before us...building spec's ect..."

Raymond glanced over his shoulder to see that Roger waited patiently,

"You are welcome to veiw it all your highness, i hope it proves to be helpful"

OOC: Look at the link below, all the information on the Krac de Chevalier you need to know...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krak_des_Chevaliers

The Turks have been ready to move out for an hour or so when an excited cry goes up.

"The beacons! The beacons!"

Mahmud strides out of his tent, looking up to the western hills. Sure enough, a glimmer of light is visible.

"Bring me my horse!" he cries. "We march to Sis!"

A cheer goes up as Mahmud rides through out of the camp at the head of the assembled Turkish army. With luck, the Seljuks will be outside the walls of the Armenian capitol before word of the invasion even reaches Jerusalem.

OOC: I agree.

King Baldwin nodded and said "Thank you, I shall do that right now, for a good king studies the defenses and find's the weak spot's, so that he can command it to be fixed. Thank you for the info, it's going to be invaluable to us, to detirmine the amount of men needed at each section, have a good day Raymond." He walked off toward's Raymond's quarter's to look at the building specs.

OOC: Thank's that will be useful infomation to me.

King Baldwin nodded and said "Thank you, I shall do that right now, for a good king studies the defenses and find's the weak spot's, so that he can command it to be fixed. Thank you for the info, it's going to be invaluable to us, to detirmine the amount of men needed at each section, have a good day Raymond." He walked off toward's Raymond's quarter's to look at the building specs.

OOC: Thank's that will be useful infomation to me.

Raymond nodded listening closely to the King giving him his undivided attention,

"Of course your Majesty, and a good day to you!"

He bowed again then turned back to Roger of Salerno.....

OOC: No problem!

Konya

A festival is going on in the city, celebrating two things; the Sultan is riding to war, and his daughter is leaving to marry a Byzantine prince. Celebrations had gone on through the previous night. Now, in the morning, thousands of Turks have assembled to see her departure. Crowds stretch along the western road from the palace to the city gates, kept out of the street by newly recruited soldiers. A cheer goes up as a procession of mounted men-at-arms, resplendent with jeweled armor and white horses, comes into view from the palace.

"Aysel Sultan! Aysel Sultan!" Several cheering onlookers surge forward to get a glimpse of the veiled figure in the midst of the horsemen. Mahmud's daughter is making her first, and probably last, public appearance in Konya, and the citizenry, made indulgent by wine, food and music, is ready for any excuse to celebrate. A few flowers rain down on the procession from eager onlookers as the caravan winds its way through the city streets and out of the western gate, towards Nicaea.

Krac de Chevaliers

Roger had left to wash himself before the King had arrived after exchanging pleasantries with the Grand Master, but had now returned looking slightly fresher. His men had been dismissed to do similar.

Roger approached the King and bowed deeply but rose again, he was a Regent of his own domain and would show the correct courtesy to the King but not seen completely subservient. As he was not addressed fully he did not speak and as the King walked off he remained with the Grand Master.

“My Lord, we must march against Tripoli’s lands immediately. I have received word that the castles at Al-Marqab and Montterrand will open their gates to us without conflict. I fear that the others will need more persuasion. I will send scratch forces to those two castles to ensure their compliance, I trust the word of the Lords that govern them. As for Tripoli I have sent word for an inquisitor to be sent to determine Bertrand’s place, as long as his holiness accepts my proposal it should not be too long before he arrives. Meanwhile I will take my men and move to Tripoli. If we can sever the head then the body will join us limply. The campaign must be quick for I have left my lands perilously under defended by bringing such a force here. We have too little troops and too many enemies, but with Gods guidance the heathens will be defeated. What say you good Sir Knight?”



Two weeks before, The Port of Alexandretta

It had been sometime since the messenger arrived from Antioch with orders from Roger to sail for Italy and Rome. The emissary’s primary mission was to inform the Pope of Bertrand’s heresies and request an inquisition. He was then to continue on to Venice with the aim of opening friendly relations with those people for trade and if the need arose a fleet.

With the wind favourable the transport took him out of the port, the wide sails sporting the emblem of Antioch. It would be a journey of vital importance to Antioch and its attempts to retain Tripoli in the Christian fold.

Under the eastern sun's relentless enmity, Zengi's armor shone vividly. Woven with steel and richly emblazed with white diamonds and crimson emeralds, it was truly a marvelous work of Turkish craftsmanship. His sword was no less different. A large ruby was carved into the pommel, and the blade of the saber was etched with the golden writings of the Koran; "Paradise is under the shades of swords." The Atabeg was ready for war. Upon a great steed, he rode down from his Palace and arrived infront of the city's gate. Beyond the walls, thousands of men were housed in tents. If it had been night, the torches lit from them would outnumber even the stars.

From all over Syria, hordes of muslim warriors had come. 23 000 had awnsered his summon to battle. It was more than enough to submit Edessa to Zengi's will. The rest, roughtly 4 000 men, would remain in the many fortresses surrounding the Atabeg's land. If require, more men could be levied. Zengi's treasury could afford perhaps even 10 000 other men.

In a week, the invasion would begin.

OOC: Response(s) coming up soon.

ooc: My, my....some have been busy in my absence. Sorry for the lack of a post yesterday. I got called into work early and just got home (an 18 hour day). I'll post later tonight as I'm 3/4 asleep right now. Rest assured...Cilicia will NOT stand idly by while the Byzantine dogs betray Christ by siding with the heathen!!!

ooc: My, my....some have been busy in my absence. Sorry for the lack of a post yesterday. I got called into work early and just got home (an 18 hour day). I'll post later tonight as I'm 3/4 asleep right now. Rest assured...Cilicia will NOT stand idly by while the Byzantine dogs betray Christ by siding with the heathen!!!

OOC:

Byzantium humbly invites you to try and do something about it.

I may not be able to post today for a while. I have work to get done, but I'll be back as soon as I can.

Damascus

The man wore black robes with gold thread patterns sewn into the shapes of two crossed scimitars on his back. A black turban hid his hair, and a bit of cloth his face. Around his waist was a leather belt of fine make, a scimitar and a long knife hanging from it. A small pack filled with his possessions lay against his back, attached by strings around his shoulders. He moved easily and with a cat like grace through the crowded streets.

Street urchins eyed him with a hunger known only to the desperate. One looked to the other and made a sign. “Tell Hakif, one coming.”

The black garbed stranger walked through several of the smaller side streets before coming to a stop in the next major one. Traffic had disappeared and hardly anyone was in the area…with the exception of seven men armed with knives, clubs, a spear, and a few swords. A large, burly bearded man, holding a large club with the effort it would take to lift a flower, grinned toothlessly at the stranger.

“Well, if I wouldn’t know anything, I’d say you look lost,” the bearded man drawled. As he spoke his fellow brigands slowly started to circle around the stranger’s sides.

“All men are lost, but for those who believe in Allah,” stated the stranger, his voice completely calm, hands at his sides and feet spread evenly.

“Well seeing as I’ve got you and whatever possessions you have to get, and if their good, then I’d say Allah has been merciful,” replied the chief brigand. “Get him boys.” Three of them rushed forward, two bearing knifes and third one a spear.

“Aaaah!” The knifeman lunged. The stranger slid past the blade and grabbed hold of the brigand’s arm. With a pull and a shove the stranger sent the man straight into the second knifeman.

The spearman cursed him and stabbed out. The stranger grabbed the haft of the spear, pulled it aside and brought his foot up. With a harsh crack his iron shod boot hit the shaft and cracked the spear in two. The brigand stared in disbelief, leaving himself open. The stranger spun the broken part of the spear around and speared the tip into the gapping man’s chest. The thief fell to the ground gurgling blood.

The two knifemen managed to separate and were back on their feet. A third man, this one holding a sword, stepped up behind the stranger as well. With a cry he swung his sword down, only to have it cut into the earth. The stranger and twirled around and unsheathed his sword in the process. The swordsman head rolled for several feet.

The knifemen charged, one from each side. The stranger ducked and drew his long dagger from his belt with his other hand, then outstretched his arms, impaling both brigands on the end of the blades. The bodies fell to the ground in a heap. The stranger stood up and faced the remaining three men. The two standing beside the leader held swords, sweat dripping off their foreheads profusely. The chief brigand’s face was glowing hot red from anger. He turned to his men.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Get him!” he growled. The two swordsmen charged, yelling both in fear and fury.

The strange met them head-on. He parried the first strike and spun on his left foot. An iron shod heel smashed into the face of one swordsman, toppling him to the ground. The second thrust forward. His sword was met by the long knife held in the stranger’s hand, deflecting it to the side. With an upward swipe a large gash was put from hip to shoulder across the brigand’s chest.

The chief brigand roared with anger and charged. He jumped and brought the large club crashing down. The club reverberated with shock waves as the tip smashed into the ground. The stranger disappeared out of the man’s line of sight. He spun around and saw the stranger standing still a few paces away. He roared and stepped forward, then suddenly stopped. His legs were getting weaker. He lifted his club and took another step. It felt heavy in his hands.

The man fell to his knees, blood flowing from his legs just behind the knee cap. The stranger stepped up to the growling man and with one swift stroke beheaded him. The corpse fell forward and lay still as a small storm of dust rose.

The black garbed stranger cleaned his sword and dagger of blood on one of the fallen thieves’ shirts and sheathed his weapons. He picked up his belongings from where he’d dropped them earlier, and stepped into another main street, joining with the throng of people.


Within a half hour the man had made it to the gates of the citadel. Two Mamluk guards saluted him and bowed. A captain, wearing ornate armor of his station, stepped out of the gate and welcomed him.

“Weapons Master Jungir, it is an honor. Lord Anushtakin has been expecting you. He's in a meeting right now with an honored guest. He says you can wait in the gardens if you wish,” said the captain.

“I am at his lordship’s command,” replied Jungir.

“Come inside, please. You didn’t have any trouble getting here?” The captain asked, stepping into the gate.

“No,” Jungir followed the captain. “No trouble at all.”

Imperial Senate Chambers, Constantinople.

“This is an absolute outrage!”

Marcus Bruccius was a Senator, and not a very happy one. He stood in the large room the Byzantine senate met in, in the clear space around which the entire Senate was situated as had been the case with the old Western Senate.

“I don’t see what the problem is, Marcus,” said Senator Appius Tadius, a young man who had a reputation as being something of an upstart.

“You don’t see the problem?” asked Bruccius, eyes wide as though Tadius should see the issue he was talking about as clearly as the sunlight.

He got nothing in response from Tadius but a head shake.

“Well, then, let me enlighten you,” said Bruccius. “The Emperor, in all his grand wisdom has allied himself, and his nation, with the Muslims. Not only that, but now he has invited into this country some Muslim wench to marry to his own son!”

Many among the assembled Senators shifted uncomfortably, and there was muttering and loud whispering amongst the Empire’s main legislative body.

“I would say you are very lucky the young Prince Manuel is not here,” said Tadius with a light smile on his face. “He is quite anxious to meet this woman and is also eager to make his father’s alliance with the Seljuks a success.”

“More the fool him, then,” snarled Bruccius.

“Mind how you speak about the Emperor’s son, Bruccius,” said a stern voice from behind him.

Isaac Komnenos was the current Emperor’s brother, and thus bore the title Sebastokrator, labeling him as somebody very close to the monarch. While the office bore no powers, an individual with it had significant unofficial influence. For one thing, they could sit in on a meeting of the Senate. In addition to this title, Isaac was running things while John fought in Armenia and Manuel was away.

“My brother’s decisions are wise,” he continued. “Conflict with the Seljuks gains nothing in the end and may cost us everything we possess.”

“Alliance with the Muslims is not wise!” Bruccius shouted. “It is madness! These infidels have no desire to ally with us. This is all deception!”

“Bruccius,” Senator Kaeso Cassianus. “The current Emperor’s judgment has always been largely good in past. I see no reason not to trust him.”

“Likewise,” said Senator Placus Gavius, among the oldest men in the room. “Why should he be wrong now? Byzantium and the Seljuks have fought before and it brought only ruin in the end. Fighting them now would have the same effect.”

“I tell you this alliance is a mistake,” Bruccius stuck by his views.

“You are entitled to say that,” Isaac spoke firmly. “However, the Emperor’s decision, and it is his decision, has support. Most in the Senate back his choices in this matter, and what little opposition there is has no real reason to support it.”

Nicaea.

“Riders approach from the east!”

Manuel Komnenos had been up on the walls at Nicaea almost since his arrival there, eyes locked on the horizon from sunrise until sunset. He watched, hoping to spot the dust trails indicating horsemen riding towards Nicaea. Manuel had been pleased as nobody expected he would be when told he was to marry a Seljuk princess. The reason was simple. He was incredibly anxious to do some good for his nation. Cementing the alliance with the Seljuk kingdom via this marriage was just the way to do it.

“Can you identify them?!” he called out to the man-at-arms on watch who had spotted the initial signs that somebody was on the approach.

“Seljuks, my lord, from Rum!” was the shouted reply.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, and set about making sure he was prepared.

Upon arriving at Nicaea’s gates, the young Seljuk royal found everything waiting. Troops and local law enforcement kept the streets cleared, and provided escort. The citizens were general curious and receptive, crowding in large groups along the streets to watch the Seljuk princess pass by.


OOC:

I've been puzzling on this one because it took me such a long time with what little time I had in a sitting to finish it. I hope it turned out alright.

Manth, feel free to RP how the lass reacts to the citizenry, the city's appearance, and so on. If you feel something is missing from this post, let me know. I'll probably edit it some in any case, but not a lot unless you point something out.

Word came to Prince Thoros concerning Alexius' treaty with the Seljuks like a hammer blow. Not only was Bertrand of Tripoli dealing with the heathens, but now Christians and Arabs were riding together against a Christian land.

He made his apologies to Baldwin of Bourcq and headed back to Cilicia at top speed. He needed to get to Sis, where he was sure that the heathen and the traitors would strike.

Thoros sent messengers ahead to his brother, Leon, to ready the capitol for a battle. The garrisons in Laranda, Kybistra, and Tyana in the west and Komana, Ulnia, and Vahka in the north were strengthened and reinforced by the Prince's new troops raised six months previously.

Cilicia had 18,350 men total. These included 4,200 mounted knights, 9,200 men-at arms, 750 archers, 2,000 knights on foot, and almost 3,000 foot soldiers which included pikemen, hookmen, and several medical groups.

Five hundred were newly garrisoned in Rhosos and the 500 on their way to Aleppo were recalled to the defense of Sis. Captain Tartoul also headed back to Sis. If the traitors wanted Cilicia, they were going to pay dearly for it.........

OOC:

Byzantium humbly invites you to try and do something about it.

I may not be able to post today for a while. I have work to get done, but I'll be back as soon as I can.



ooc: Cilicia humbly asks Byzantium to go over in the corner and practice falling down.......I'll be with you in a minute......:upyours:

ooc: Cilicia humbly asks Byzantium to go over in the corner and practice falling down.......I'll be with you in a minute......:upyours:

OOC:

Be calm, I was merely joking.

By the way, Thrashia and I have talked this out, and Alexius I was dead by 1118, and as this is 1123, his son, known as John II would be on the throne.

The army of Edessa rallied in the face of the oncoming invasion by the Moslems, but he would make them suffer for their mistake of daring to try and invade the lands of Edessa and he, Joscelin I, began to gather his army in two points. The points where the capital city of Edessa and that of the fortress of Turbessel in which the armies of the east and west of Edessa had been sent to rally at in order to allow for quicker mobilization, with each communicating to the others by smoke signals and by quick messengers.

The army of the east had already assembled in Edessa, which composed the greater part of the force of the County as that was the army that defended the capital and the greater part of the kindgom. In turn the force was made up of 1,000 mounted knights, 800 squires, 1,900 men-at-arms, 2,400 archers, 1,800 Trained Spear Militia, 2,400 Militia, and 3,000 Spear levees.

The army of the west rallied at Turbessel had managed to gather most of its of 650 mounted knights, 800 squires, 1,300 men-at-arms, 1,600 archers, 900 crossbowmen, 600 Trained Spear Militia, 1,500 Militia, and 1,900 Spear Levees.

Already though, the army of the east now had been ordered to hold at Edessa to face the oncoming invansion from the South by the hordes of Moslems from wide lands of northern Syria.

The army of western Edessa had gathered their forces now after a week of mustering and had already set out to Edessa to meet with the Count's army they then would arrange their defense and would hold this land to the last man.

At the same the time 50 knights had been dispatched to meet the Armenian visitors in the west of the County in the hopes of gaining aide against the oncoming tide.

Tag

OOC: Ive found a newer version of Antioch’s history that tells me that Roger was killed in 1119, but for now I’ll keep him until Bohemund II arrives from Italy in 1126 so as not to confuse everything!


The Citadel at Antioch

With Roger’s departure to the South, Antioch was governed by another Italian Knight, himself a veteran of the First Crusade. Antonio Sennis strolled through the stone hallways towards the main dining room, which for this afternoon had been coverted to a conference room for himself and the other knights who had remained behind. Most of the other knights were Norman, with a few English, French and German scattered throughout the ranks.

The maps were spread out on the table along with several dozen cups of wine, one each for the Knights that had already been in there discussing events before retiring for some lunch. Sennis had returned first to study the maps again. He looked first at a large scale one that covered the Kingdom of Jerusalem in the south to Armenian-Cilicia in the north and placed his finger on Tripoli.

Roger had 5,000men and 400knights with him, probably at Krac de Chevaliers by now. If Bertrand has returned and the reports are correct about half of his castles will remain loyal whilst those in the North recognise Antioch and the south Jerusalem as their new masters. Roger will try and avoid bloodshed to convince the Tripolians to join a truly Christian Kingdom but his ability to do so will reflect how quickly an inquisitor arrives, if one does come. Time is not a commodity that Roger has a lot of, Damascus and Syria will try and use this weakness to attack somewhere, Edessa in the North or maybe even Antioch herself. The strong fortifications had been rebuilt and strengthened since they were taken as well as increasing the size of the storerooms to allow for an even longer siege if necessary. The garrison of over a thousand men had been supplemented by some of the new Christian troops training throughout the Principality and stocks of arrows and crossbow bolts had been brought in from Alexandretta.

If they needed to march to battle within a month there would be an additional 8,000men-at-arms and nearly 2,000 knights. But the Kingdoms all around them possessed much more, rumours of movements to the North and East caused worry for Sennis. He had sent messengers to inform Roger of the movements and the worries that the Armenian-Cilician emissary had expressed before returning to Sis. He expected nothing to come of it, the Byzantines wouldn’t ally themselves with the heathens would they? It was possible but unlikely, although he had given the hundred Cilician Knights who had recently arrived the freedom to leave the city if they found themselves recalled quickly. On paper the finances of the Principality were sound, they would be greatly increased by the absorption of Tripoli which currently had few men to support but a greater income than Antioch. Using 5,000 of the veteran Men-at-arms would lead to a hasty capture of the city, with Bertrand deposed the other castles wouldn’t cause a fuss he was sure.

OOC2: More to come, will EDIT the post to add it in.

The army of Edessa rallied in the face of the oncoming invasion by the Moslems, but he would make them suffer for their mistake of daring to try and invade the lands of Edessa and he, Joscelin I, began to gather his army in two points. The points where the capital city of Edessa and that of the fortress of Turbessel in which the armies of the east and west of Edessa had been sent to rally at in order to allow for quicker mobilization, with each communicating to the others by smoke signals and by quick messengers.

The army of the east had already assembled in Edessa, which composed the greater part of the force of the County as that was the army that defended the capital and the greater part of the kindgom. In turn the force was made up of 1,000 mounted knights, 800 squires, 1,900 men-at-arms, 2,400 archers, 1,800 Trained Spear Militia, 2,400 Militia, and 3,000 Spear levees.

The army of the west rallied at Turbessel had managed to gather most of its of 650 mounted knights, 800 squires, 1,300 men-at-arms, 1,600 archers, 900 crossbowmen, 600 Trained Spear Militia, 1,500 Militia, and 1,900 Spear Levees.

Already though, the army of the east now had been ordered to hold at Edessa to face the oncoming invansion from the South by the hordes of Moslems from wide lands of northern Syria.

The army of western Edessa had gathered their forces now after a week of mustering and had already set out to Edessa to meet with the Count's army they then would arrange their defense and would hold this land to the last man.

At the same the time 50 knights had been dispatched to meet the Armenian visitors in the west of the County in the hopes of gaining aide against the oncoming tide.


While waiting for his older brother to arrive is Sis, Leon sent swift-riding emissaries to Edessa to urge Baldwin to throw his forces in with the Cilicians for a united front against the Seljuks. His other out-riders should at this very moment be asking Roger of Salerno the same thing. Only through a unification of forces could the Christian Lords stop the heathen arab advance. 'And', he thought, 'I'm personally going to string John of the Byzantines up by his balls for betraying us. Bertrand simply made a mistake. But John purposefully allied himself with the Turks, even as far as marrying his son off to a heathen princess.' He thought about God's warning to the Israelites about not comingling with the heathen and what happened to them when they did.

Which gave him an idea................................

Had he known the words, Carlo Santorelli would have cursed the day Leon was born and the ground he walked on. The dry, dusty sand was caked in his nostrils as he made his way across the last branch of the Celbos River just west of the Cilician capitol. He had been woken out of a sound sleep 36 hours before and had had virtually none as he was "escorted" to the citadel.

Sixteen burly mounted knights had barged their way into the cardinal's quarters in Heraglea, right under the noses of the Byzantine garrison stationed in the Turkish border town, just 18 miles over the border. The raid was so successful that neither the traitors nor the Turks knew what had happened until they had made it to Kybistra, well into Cilician territory, where they quickly switched horses and rode onward.

There was one other thing they did. While there, they "convinced" Cardinal Santorelli to write a Papal Bull condemning the Byzantine Emperor for his collusion with the heathen muslims. The Bull stated that unless the Emperor recalled his troops in the assault on the "true and righteous" Christian Lord of Armenian Cilicia, he would be excommunicated forthwith. Of course, Santorelli refused to do such an outrageous thing. Why, he himself would be excommunicated if such a thing occured! The Cilician commander assured him, however, that either the Pope's signature or his brains would be on the Bull. His Eminence saw the light, and signed.........with a flourish.

The Bull was quickly copied and riders were sent at top speed throughout the land. The populace was outraged by the heretical behaviour of the Byzantines, and vowed to fight him and his to the death. The various Christian lords rallied to the cause, and swelled the ranks of the Cilicians manning the forts and castles along the way to the capitol. If those traitorous bastards wanted Sis, they were going to pay dearly for it.

________________________________________________________________

Leon was feeling quite pleased with himself when Thoros, haggard, dirty and dusty from the forced ride from Edessa, strode into the inner rooms of the citadel at Sis. He was furious.

"What in the name of all that's holy have you done?! I'm gone a week, and youv'e turned this country into an armed camp, youv'e made alliances and pacts with other rulers without conferring with me, and you kidnap a cardinal of Holy Mother Church, make him forge a letter from His Holiness the Pope, and now your'e holding him under arrest! What in the hell is wrong with you?"

Leon looked calmly and steadily at his brother. "M'lord Prince", he said icily, "I've done nothing more than taken appropriate steps to preserve your principality. Do you recall that elderly Cathayan fellow that came through here when we were children? The general who had known Marco Polo?"

"Yes, yes.....what of him?"

"If you recall, his superior had a book of proverbs, if you will, describing how to properly wage war. Of the many he spoke of, the one I remember best is 'All strategy is based on deception'. Do you not remember this?"

Thoros was silent for a full minute. He did indeed recall, long ago, how Sun-Tzu had influenced his war preparations. Stealth, duplicity, and subversive manuvers were a highly prized method of winning wars when you were outnumbered. His breathing gradually returned to normal, and there was the smallest hint of a smile on his face when he said, "I do hope your'e right on this, brother. If your'e not......"

Leon finished the sentence. "If I'm not, we're all dead anyway. Drastic times call for drastic measures, no?"

OOC: We've only rallied infront of Mosul, how could you know we were invading? And that Edessa was our target?

The shrill sound of the Atabeg's warhorn echoed within Mosul. Awnsering the call, thousands of Muslim Warriors marched down the streets of the Turkish Capital to rally outside the main gates. Another blow of the horn, and they began to organise into compact ranks. Upon his steed, the Great Zengi rode infront of his Grand Army. He unsheathed his sword, and from some sort of tacit understanding, his troops followed him from the rear. For the construction of siege engines, planks of wood were brought in plenty along with numerous teams of engineers. To remain unmolested, they would follow the Muslim Roads along the border between Turkish territory and Edessa. First reaching the Turkish (I think?) city of Harran and from there, stage a grand offensive on the county's capital itself.

OOC: We've only rallied infront of Mosul, how could you know we were invading? And that Edessa was our target?

The shrill sound of the Atabeg's warhorn echoed within Mosul. Awnsering the call, thousands of Muslim Warriors marched down the streets of the Turkish Capital to rally outside the main gates. Another blow of the horn, and they began to organise into compact ranks. Upon his steed, the Great Zengi rode infront of his Grand Army. He unsheathed his sword, and from some sort of tacit understanding, his troops followed him from the rear. For the construction of siege engines, planks of wood were brought in plenty along with numerous teams of engineers. To remain unmolested, they would follow the Muslim Roads along the border between Turkish territory and Edessa. First reaching the Turkish (I think?) city of Harran and from there, stage a grand offensive on the county's capital itself.


ooc: I officially don't know that your'e invading Edessa. All I know is that the Byz's and the Seljuks are invading me.

Armenian Cilicia

Mahmud proceeds as fast as he can without leaving his troops exhausted from overmarching or too vulnerable to suprise attack. The main body of men, slightly under thirty thousand, marches with the Sultan; scouts range ahead to pick the best route and guard against Cilician ambush, though in these first days of the invasion it is doubtful that word has even reached the Cilician capitol yet. Forces march towards Hadjin and Vahka - given that these forts are only a short distance from the border, Mahmud hopes to take the defenders by surprise or at least give them not much time to prepare.

OOC: What are your garrisons at these two forts, Xeraph?

My total troop numbers in Armenia:
1900 cavalry
500 foot knights
3200 archers
33,000 men-at-arms

The rest of my men, about 10,000, are guarding the Edessan border or manning fortresses. A few men are keeping an eye on the Byzantine army from a distance, as Mahmud wishes to know if the Byzantines encounter any setbacks or slowdowns, since that could affect his own plans.

Nicaea

The Seljuk horsemen ride through the gates of Nicaea, cheery and smiling in their glittering golden armor. Nicaea had been the Turkish capitol before the Crusades, and many Turks still live here; some riders even wave to acquaintances as they ride through the streets. A few scatter coins among the appreciative populace, a gift from the Sultan to the people of Byzantium to celebrate the occasion. Others bear flowers and brightly colored banners. Most of the horsemen are young - they had been specially chosen for good looks and friendliness, as the Sultan wishes that the Byzantines in Nicaea will be left with the best possible impression of Turkish character and generosity.

Aysel herself, however, is stone terrified. Bad enough that this journey is the first time the sixteen-year-old princess has ever been outside the walls of the palace in Konya without her father and his servants accompanying her... on top of that, she is to marry a foreign prince she has never met, leave her home forever and go to live in a foreign land. Still, she is resolved to be dutiful, and manages to wave and smile at the Byzantine populace as she had been told to. They seem nice enough...

OOC: We've only rallied infront of Mosul, how could you know we were invading? And that Edessa was our target?OOC: Acutally, I never mentioned explicity I knew that they were as of yet, I can only have gusses as to what the mustering was, but considering the fact I am the closest target I would have to assume that I would be the one attacked. As well, you have to realize at the time informants would often give their employer info about the mustering of forces, but not anything to specfic save some rumors and I also do not knew your full strength.

Border of Edessa

With the army of the eastern Edessa had begun fortifying a hilltop a couple of dozen of miles southwest of Edessa near the river. With their position they would make a stand on top of it while the army of western Edessa attacked from the north so as to drive any enemies into the lower ground to prevent the Syrians from using their cavalry to their advantage and to also decrease the effectiveness of their archers who would have to fire upon higher angles.

Ankara:

A diplomat had just arrived in the capital of the Turks to negotiate with their ruler and to give an apology fee of 320 gold Bezants as the Count had been always in the eastern parts of his kingdom. As well, he brought with him a hand written apology in regards to his absence of the time and humbly asked for the forgiveness of the Turkish ruler and also with the diplomat requested a meeting with a official of the Turkish government in order to discuss a possible pact of non-aggression or another treaty of some sorts, but at the very least a trade agreement.

Armenian Cilicia

Mahmud proceeds as fast as he can without leaving his troops exhausted from overmarching or too vulnerable to suprise attack. The main body of men, slightly under thirty thousand, marches with the Sultan; scouts range ahead to pick the best route and guard against Cilician ambush, though in these first days of the invasion it is doubtful that word has even reached the Cilician capitol yet. Forces march towards Hadjin and Vahka - given that these forts are only a short distance from the border, Mahmud hopes to take the defenders by surprise or at least give them not much time to prepare.

OOC: What are your garrisons at these two forts, Xeraph?

My total troop numbers in Armenia:
1900 cavalry
500 foot knights
3200 archers
33,000 men-at-arms

The rest of my men, about 10,000, are guarding the Edessan border or manning fortresses. A few men are keeping an eye on the Byzantine army from a distance, as Mahmud wishes to know if the Byzantines encounter any setbacks or slowdowns, since that could affect his own plans.

Nicaea

The Seljuk horsemen ride through the gates of Nicaea, cheery and smiling in their glittering golden armor. Nicaea had been the Turkish capitol before the Crusades, and many Turks still live here; some riders even wave to acquaintances as they ride through the streets. A few scatter coins among the appreciative populace, a gift from the Sultan to the people of Byzantium to celebrate the occasion. Others bear flowers and brightly colored banners. Most of the horsemen are young - they had been specially chosen for good looks and friendliness, as the Sultan wishes that the Byzantines in Nicaea will be left with the best possible impression of Turkish character and generosity.

Aysel herself, however, is stone terrified. Bad enough that this journey is the first time the sixteen-year-old princess has ever been outside the walls of the palace in Konya without her father and his servants accompanying her... on top of that, she is to marry a foreign prince she has never met, leave her home forever and go to live in a foreign land. Still, she is resolved to be dutiful, and manages to wave and smile at the Byzantine populace as she had been told to. They seem nice enough...



ooc: 3,400 @ Vahka, 2,600 @ Hadjin, 10-to-1 ratio foot soldiers/archers to mounted knights.

South of the Armenian border

A messenger from the capitol catches up with the main army, and Mahmud, soon after they cross the border. He presents the letter to the Sultan, who scans over it briefly.

"So an Edessan ambassador has come to us, bearing gifts and asking for peace?"

"Yes, Great Sultan."

The Sultan turns to a servant.

"Send for a scribe. I will dictate my response."

Soon, a letter is en route back to the Edessans:

Mahmud II, Great Sultan of the Seljuk Turks, Pride of Islam, to the Count of Edessa

"I do not forget an insult easily, but you have made a noble attempt to redress the rude reception my envoy received from your servants in Edessa, nor is your generosity to the Seljuk peopl unnoticed. Let it be known that the wrath of the Great Sultan is eclipsed only by his mercy and benevolence. Your ambassador has been received in Konya, and I have given instructions that Seljuk merchants travel to Edessa and that Edessan merchants likewise have free access to the goods we offer. Perhaps, if peaceful relations between out states continue, a treaty of nonaggression can be signed at some point in the future."

Mahmud watches as the rider departs. He is already losing patience with the diplomatic niceties required in such exchanges. He rides with his army deeper into Armenia, eager for battle.

Twenty-seven thousand odd troops ride with Mahmud in the main army. Two smaller forces of slightly under six thousand each ride to the towns of Vahka and Hadjin. Smaller forces can move faster than the main body of the Seljuk army, and Mahmud hopes to catch the defenders of these two towns before word of an invasion can even reach them. The castles at Hadjin and Vahka are both extremely formidable, but if large parts of the garrison can be caught by surprise outside the castles, the remainder might be induced to surrender in the face of overwhelming odds.

Seljuk scouts ride ahead of each small force, some scouting out a path for their companions while others conceal themselves near the roads to both towns. Their orders are to prevent any messengers from alerting the garrisons, and so they wait in hiding, ready to shoot down any Armenians riding in haste towards either town, or even anyone who looks suspicious... if a few merchants are slain accidentally in order to preserve the element of surprise, it will be a worthwhile loss.

OOC: Towards each fort are proceeding 4,000 men-at-arms, 1,000 archers, 250 foot knights and 500 mounted knights.

Pic I found of the castles at Hadjin and Vahka... they look pretty formidable. Mountain crags with only one path up, and the like... No way I could take them by assault without crazy luck, so I won't try.

http://www.hadjin.com/The_Castles_of_Hadjin.htm

http://www.adana.gov.tr/resimler/kultur_turz/fekekalesi.jpg

Caire
1123 Anno Domine
516 Anno Hegirae

The dawn of a new day in the capital of the Rightly-Guided Califat; Calif Mansour al-Amir Bi-Ahkamillah rose with the call to prayer from the mosque Ibn Touloun on the East Bank. The sun was shrouded with sands of the storm of the previous night, quick but thorough. He approached the balcon of the palace and glanced east across the Nile, beyond the desert where the Christians had camped upon the Palestinian lands - their "Sacred" lands of the Christ. It was as much to him as it was to the Christians; did it give him any right to invade the land, pillage it, massacre its population, and sow the seeds for future conflit in the lands at the crossroads of the world? He counted the very days since Jerusalem was lost to the Christians; it numbered around 9000. He then counted the days to the time when he would reclaim the city - they numbered beyond his own life.

The Calif was rightly guided; he knew the limits of Fatimid dynasty, and even as Islam demanded retribution, his power was limited by the divisions with the Ataturks and the Seljuks. His sole ally in Damascus was only an ally in name; whether he would send any aid if he needed it remained unlikely, as the Frankish States now divided him from his vassal, and it only made their relationship more strained. In order to keep checks with his allies, he would have to conscript the aid of the Franks - unlikely although still possible at a high enough cost. The years had passed when the Christian faith united them under one banner; now they were divided against each other. The powerful states preyed upon the weaker, the spoils being divided to please the more powerful. Jerusalem was this power, and al Amir knew one thing that would please Jerusalem most - land. As long as the Fatimids and their other neighbors remained weak, peace would last between them. The radical pilgrims from the barbaric lands of Europe came annually, inciting the locals to violence, but the harsh realities would easily quell their cries.

The truth was that the Calif was contented to leave Jerusalem in the hands of the Christians, as long as those hands remained clean of the blood of Muslims. It was seldom the case, and the protector of the al Aqsa mosque was always at risk of inciting a full-fronted jihad upon them from all Muslims - the Seljuks, the Ataurks, the Syrenes, the Bedouins, the Berbers, the Umayyads, and of course, the Fatimids. Many would rise from Mekkah and Medina to crush the infidels; but so far, the mosques remained tall, and the reason for conflit remained apart from them.

An aide from the Grand Vizir's office had come with the reports requested a week ago. It was supposedly an update from the frontiers, but the truth was more likely two weeks old already, if not a month. Information passed him so slowly, but there was little that could be done about the status of the califate. It was perhaps this degeneration in communication with its peripheries that made the califat more susceptible in these days. This would be changed.

"We have the requested report."

al Amir bade the aide to enter. "Speak."

"From the garrison at Alexandrie, the First Corps is strong, with 1000 cavalry and 2500 infantry. The Second Corps at Ashkalon bears the same numbers, as does the Third Corps in Damietta. The Fourth Corps in al Arisha shares the same strength. The three Divisions of Infantry each number 5000. The Nubian contingent is still stationed near Aswan. The Saracen Contingent is stationed near al Mansura. The Berber contingent is stationed in Benghazi. In all, the armed forces of the califat number around 5000 mamelouks and 30000 infantry, with the Grand Calif's Army in Caire."

al Amir thought through the reports and dismissed the aide. They seemed to be proper and decided to assist other functions that required his attention.

OOC:

I've puzzled on this post long enough! I've done some research, and what little information I found suggests to me that Gorigos in this period was a port city, and that a fortress existed on an island in the port.

In any case, here's the post. Manth, I'll make a post about what's happening in Nicaea next.

IC:

Byzantine Army Camp, Armenia.

“Majesty, the Armenian fortification at Gorigos is but a few miles ahead. Forward patrols have sighted it and are observing enemy actions.”

Emperor John II Komnenos of the Byzantine Empire smiled, though the knight would not likely see the expression with the sweat running into his eyes.

“Excellent! At this rate, God willing, we shall have a quick campaign, and be at Sis in the next few months at most. God is with us now.”

Bidding the knight farewell, John turned and walked back to his tent, where he could start his morning preparations for the day’s march. As he walked his mind wandered, and what he thought about was troubling indeed.

He had only just the previous evening heard that the Pope had issued a Papal Bull, stating in no uncertain terms the Holy Father’s condemnation of the Byzantine strike on Armenia in conjunction with the Muslim Seljuks. He had no official word on it, yet, but the rumors had strength to them. He supposed it made sense. What did not make sense about this was how the Pope had learned about it the invasion so swiftly. Even with good horses and fast message ships, the distance to be traveled was quite large.

“Odd,” he murmured to nobody as he entered the tent. His personal servants were waiting inside the tent, and, with a single command, they began helping him put on his equipment in preparation for the day’s move. His armor, though admittedly more ornate, was like his knight’s armor; thorough, and quite effective.

First he put on a padded cloth shirt which was light but durable. Atop that was a mail coat long enough its two layers protected his thighs. A sleeveless lamellar cuirass sat on that, a highly effective defense against arrows and spears. His feet and lower legs were protected in battle by high topped leather riding boots. Good, heavy gauntlets protected his hands, a highly exposed target in the crunch of battle. Head protection involved a mail hood which kept all but the face fairly protected. That was topped by the cone shaped, casqued helmet he wore. The helmet bore a crest of Imperial purple, the same as the cloak and the surcoat he put on atop his armor, making him easily identifiable.

His left arm was affixed with a thyreos, a small, round shield. As it was held on by a strap in battle, his hands were free to manage his weapons and his mount.

“John!” The shouted word stopped him as he was mounting his horse. He looked and saw his Grand Domestic riding towards him. Axouch’s equipment was the same as his, but his long helmet plume, surcoat, and cloak were scarlet.

“Good morning, John,” answered the Emperor, swinging up in to the saddle.

“We march on Gorigos today,” said Axouch.

“Yes.”

“How are we to take an island, John?” asked Axouch. “We have no ships close. The Fleet is primarily at Cyprus, as it always is.”

“Hopefully,” said the monarch. “We can convince them to give up without bloodshed. An island is hard to attack, but they know if we must we can blockade them and then they are liable to starve unless the Prince can relieve them. With the Seljuk forces marching on Sis like they are, that is not very likely to happen soon. Besides which, if we take the city and isolate the island castle, we should have no problems.”

“How can we be sure they know the Seljuks march?” asked Axouch.

“Armenia is large,” John II replied. “Regardless, something as important as a Muslim-led invasion would get around swiftly enough by now.”

“Let us hope you are right,” said Axouch.

“The city is the important part,” said John II. “Taking the castle would be a bonus, but the island can be left in Armenian hands a while.”

“All that is true, John,” said Axouch. “Just the same, I hope they give in quickly.”

“As do I,” said John II. “The more swiftly we can move the more bloodless this campaign is liable to be. Once the Armenians are subjugated, we deal with that Papal Bull, if it truly is a Papal Bull, which I doubt very much right now.”

“It is too convenient,” said Axouch. “Not to mention too swift.”

“Exactly,” said the Emperor, starting his horse moving, Axouch following. “For now that is not my primary concern. Let’s get this army moving.”

OOC:

My army should arrive early 'this morning', Xeraph, JSYK.

Damascus, Year 1124

Anushtakin was pleased with his servant and long time friend Jungir, the Weapons Master. Few knew the origins of the enigmatic man. He was stocky and only of average height. His eyes were more narrow and thin than an Arabs, telling of a deeper Asiatic background. Anushtakin however cared not for a man's background or petigree so long as his abilities made him useful. Years ago, when he was still serving as a general of the Caliph of Cairo, Anushtakin had found Jungir in the desert by a well.

Jungir had been dressed in his, now familiar, black robes. A large thin falchion attached to his back. Anushtakin had ridden forward with a group of his personal guard.

"Will you share the water?" called Anushtakin.

"There is ill enough to be had. Why should I share it?" replied Jungir.

"Because I am the better man," replied Anushtakin without a hint of boasting entering his voice.

"Then prove so!"

The two had dueled for three hours in the desert heat before both fell to their knees in exhaustion. However, just as Jungir had fallen to one knee, Anushtakin lunged forward and swept the falchion from Jungir's grip. The well made scimitar rested against the still kneeling man's throat.

"Do you yield?" asked Anushtakin.

"So long as you share the water," replied Jungir.


Anushtakin smiled at the memory of their meeting. He stepped through the last of his chamber rooms and into one of the main hallways that connected to the drilling square. As he walked he heard the clash of steel on steel. The cry of men shouting while in combat. He turned a corner and stood on a balcony overlooking a training yard.

In it some five hundred men-at-arms, armed with dulled practice scimitars and small shields, were drilling in pairs; hacking and slashing furiously at one another, trying to get past their guard. Among them walked Jungir, stopping at a pair every few times and instructing them on some small flaw in their footwork or the way in which to properly hold their swords. Wherever he went amongst the maelstrom of flashing blades and crashing shields, a cool calm reigned. Like the eye of a storm. Anushtakin smiled.

Soon, very soon, with Jungir's help, and men like him, he'd have an army unlike any other in the region.


----------------
New Year Report
----------------
Starting Men: 3,200 Malmuks; 23,000 men-at-arms

Starting Gold after taxes: 30,900 gold bezants

Maintenance Costs:
12,800 for Mamluk upkeep (3,200)
2,300 for men-at-arm upkeep (23,000)
=
15,100 gold bezants

=
15,800 gold bezants left in treasury

OOC:

I've puzzled on this post long enough! I've done some research, and what little information I found suggests to me that Gorigos in this period was a port city, and that a fortress existed on an island in the port.

In any case, here's the post. Manth, I'll make a post about what's happening in Nicaea next.

IC:

Byzantine Army Camp, Armenia.

“Majesty, the Armenian fortification at Gorigos is but a few miles ahead. Forward patrols have sighted it and are observing enemy actions.”

Emperor John II Komnenos of the Byzantine Empire smiled, though the knight would not likely see the expression with the sweat running into his eyes.

“Excellent! At this rate, God willing, we shall have a quick campaign, and be at Sis in the next few months at most. God is with us now.”

Bidding the knight farewell, John turned and walked back to his tent, where he could start his morning preparations for the day’s march. As he walked his mind wandered, and what he thought about was troubling indeed.

He had only just the previous evening heard that the Pope had issued a Papal Bull, stating in no uncertain terms the Holy Father’s condemnation of the Byzantine strike on Armenia in conjunction with the Muslim Seljuks. He had no official word on it, yet, but the rumors had strength to them. He supposed it made sense. What did not make sense about this was how the Pope had learned about it the invasion so swiftly. Even with good horses and fast message ships, the distance to be traveled was quite large.

“Odd,” he murmured to nobody as he entered the tent. His personal servants were waiting inside the tent, and, with a single command, they began helping him put on his equipment in preparation for the day’s move. His armor, though admittedly more ornate, was like his knight’s armor; thorough, and quite effective.

First he put on a padded cloth shirt which was light but durable. Atop that was a mail coat long enough its two layers protected his thighs. A sleeveless lamellar cuirass sat on that, a highly effective defense against arrows and spears. His feet and lower legs were protected in battle by high topped leather riding boots. Good, heavy gauntlets protected his hands, a highly exposed target in the crunch of battle. Head protection involved a mail hood which kept all but the face fairly protected. That was topped by the cone shaped, casqued helmet he wore. The helmet bore a crest of Imperial purple, the same as the cloak and the surcoat he put on atop his armor, making him easily identifiable.

His left arm was affixed with a thyreos, a small, round shield. As it was held on by a strap in battle, his hands were free to manage his weapons and his mount.

“John!” The shouted word stopped him as he was mounting his horse. He looked and saw his Grand Domestic riding towards him. Axouch’s equipment was the same as his, but his long helmet plume, surcoat, and cloak were scarlet.

“Good morning, John,” answered the Emperor, swinging up in to the saddle.

“We march on Gorigos today,” said Axouch.

“Yes.”

“How are we to take an island, John?” asked Axouch. “We have no ships close. The Fleet is primarily at Cyprus, as it always is.”

“Hopefully,” said the monarch. “We can convince them to give up without bloodshed. An island is hard to attack, but they know if we must we can blockade them and then they are liable to starve unless the Prince can relieve them. With the Seljuk forces marching on Sis like they are, that is not very likely to happen soon. Besides which, if we take the city and isolate the island castle, we should have no problems.”

“How can we be sure they know the Seljuks march?” asked Axouch.

“Armenia is large,” John II replied. “Regardless, something as important as a Muslim-led invasion would get around swiftly enough by now.”

“Let us hope you are right,” said Axouch.

“The city is the important part,” said John II. “Taking the castle would be a bonus, but the island can be left in Armenian hands a while.”

“All that is true, John,” said Axouch. “Just the same, I hope they give in quickly.”

“As do I,” said John II. “The more swiftly we can move the more bloodless this campaign is liable to be. Once the Armenians are subjugated, we deal with that Papal Bull, if it truly is a Papal Bull, which I doubt very much right now.”

“It is too convenient,” said Axouch. “Not to mention too swift.”

“Exactly,” said the Emperor, starting his horse moving, Axouch following. “For now that is not my primary concern. Let’s get this army moving.”

OOC:

My army should arrive early 'this morning', Xeraph, JSYK.



ooc: gotcha....will post tomorrow AM...headed off to work right now.

Caire
1124 Anno Domine
517 Anno Hegirae

Calif [is it Caliph or Calif?] al Amir looked at the broad expanse of desert before him and his realm. He had a massing force ready to tackle the challenges let loose by the enemies of Islam. Yet he had in his hand the second option.

"We must make our aim to strengthen the Califat," he said to two men borne upon their horses. "Yours is the next caravan to Ashkalon. I wish to open the avenues of peace to the Franks in Jerusalem. If they refuse, we will try some open recourses to force them to see our way. Our aim is peace, remember that."

"Yes, sire."

al Amir continued. "I also have an envoy to our friends in Damascus. If they desire to be allies in Islam, we must make certain that we are not enemies. This message is to pass to Damascus by the southern route through Aquaba. Be wary - the route is uncertain, as the Franks have built their castles nearby. If in doubt, destroy the message. We will consult the Damascene people at our convenience. Above all, our friendship with Damascus shall not and does not harm our friendship with Jerusalem."

"Of course, sire."

He turned around and handed the men their messages to impart. One would head north to Alexandrie, to sail to Ashkalon. The second would go by the Red Sea and sail past Aquaba to arrive in Damascus. They would both be greeted by the leaders there. The end result was this: "I want it certain that the Turks are neither allies of any and viewed as the worst and despicable infidels, Muslim and Christian alike."

The two riders nodded and replied, "It shall be done, my liege."


To the King Baudouin IIere:

It is the express desire of the Rightly-Guided Calif to put aside our long standing quarrels and recognize the potential wealth of our friendship. We understand that your kingdom has recently embarked on campaigns upon the less welcome of the Christian kingdoms. We also are wary of the tacit friendship your Kingdom has in place with the Turks; it is appropriate that the Turks should make assurances with your kingdom, given that they aim for the destruction of both the Christians and the Muslims. They have long come from the East, and they bring with them their pagan practices, whereas yours have come from the Jews; all is not deplorable between our two peoples, as our two faiths are reconcilable.

I do not ask for much, but the first recognition that I have is for the King Baudouin and in his righteous way to permit Muslim pilgrims to pay respects to our places in Jerusalem. As Protector of the City, we have little qualm with permitting Christians of whatever might to rest in the City. In return, we can consider the years of relative peace between our two governments to be more than simply a cessation of hostilities. If Allah wills it, we may yet become the friendliest of nations - Muslim and Christian.

I await your reply. I also expect the health of the men who impart this message to be well when they return to me and inform me of whatever gracious message your Lordship has spoken.

Calif Mansour al-Amir Bi-Ahkamillah



-----
-----


To the Amir Anushtakin:

May Peace and Mercy be upon you, and may Allah provide for you. It has been many years since we have made welcome to the people of Damascus, our brethren. I make this message with intention to extend our welcome again and open to the roads to our cherished friendship. The people of Egypt are open to the men of Damascus and I feel that Allah wills us to be companions in the world. It is fitting that we should stay near and be watchful of the Turks. I little doubt that you would have forgotten the hordes pillaging our ancestors from the East - where they brought with them the pagan practices. They corrupted our will, and created the Abbasids. As has been evidenced, the Abbasids are long dead, and the line soon to be extinguished. The Seljuks are not to be trusted equally, for their line will bring Islam and Christianity to battle where they scavenge upon the ruins of our civilizations. The Righteous must know their enemy.

If you do not share these visions, then I suppose it must be known that I have no maligned intentions for you or Damascus. When Islam rises again, I am certain Allah shall bless Damascus as much as Allah shall bless Caire - and the spoils shall be returned Mekkah and Medina. I pray that the men who bear this message to you should be received warmly and returned equally so.

Calif Mansour al-Amir Bi-Ahkamillah

(Sorry for my absence here. And Gallique, I don't think there's one de facto spelling. It's been translated many ways.)

"So my dear Count," said Anushtakin. "You expressed the desire to make a trade agreement and visit our city in the hopes of speaking. Well, we are speaking now. So speak, tell me what it is you so desire that it makes you risk your life to travel from the safety of Tripoli to Damascus?"

"Well, of course, Regent, a trade agreement is always a good procedure for a Christian or Muslim land. And, quite honestly, monsieur, I have my doubts about the intentions of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. I think they believe they still control Tripoli, and I would not put it past them to invade. What I request is a... a mutual defense pact, sir. I believe it would be most beneficial to both our lands sir, as we could both count on someone on support in the event of a war with our own kind."

Bertrand had had a hard time offering a voucher of peace to a Muslim, but he knew that if he hadn't he wouldn't be a count, or alive, fot very long.

In the mean time, Sieur de Metz had raised Tripoli's man-at-arms numbers (by 10,000), in response to military movements from the North and South.

IC:

Nicaea

Manuel was very nearly a nervous wreck as he awaited the arrival of Aysel, the Seljuk he had been told he was to marry with. His enthusiasm from moments before was still strong in him, but was intermixed now with nervous uncertainty. This woman, who was possibly his complete opposite in every respect, was coming to Nicaea, to meet with him, and then it would be just a short wait as final preparations were made, and then, regardless how the individuals involved felt about each other, they would be married. He took minor comfort knowing that this would be helping Byzantium. The thought was not quite as helpful as it had been at first, but it still helped out somewhat.

He waited quietly at the steps to the palace in Nicaea where Emperors and those relatives in the Emperor’s family he favored would live when in Nicaea. He was surrounded by the men-at-arms assigned as his bodyguards, as well as various city officials and so on whose high offices permitted-or obligated-them to be present.

“I hope your Highness will not mind my saying so, but you look nervous.”

Manuel looked at the speaker, a man-at-arms captain whose name was Leandros, the man in charge of the hundred men specifically tasked with keeping Manuel safe and alive, and in the close future, keeping his wife safe and alive too.

“I am nervous, Leandros. Wouldn’t you be?” Manuel’s voice was as stern as possible, but it did not faze the veteran captain.

“Well, at least you’re not ugly, and I’m told she isn’t hard to look at for her age.”

OOC:

It's a little short, but I wanted to get it up tonight. NM, just assume that Manuel has the same colored eyes and so on as his father, but that his features are generally more...handsome, I guess is the word. Also, as this is highly formal business, he would probably be decked out in his full regalia, which included his armor, fancy colorful dress, etc...

Krac de Chevaliers

Roger had left to wash himself before the King had arrived after exchanging pleasantries with the Grand Master, but had now returned looking slightly fresher. His men had been dismissed to do similar.

Roger approached the King and bowed deeply but rose again, he was a Regent of his own domain and would show the correct courtesy to the King but not seen completely subservient. As he was not addressed fully he did not speak and as the King walked off he remained with the Grand Master.

“My Lord, we must march against Tripoli’s lands immediately. I have received word that the castles at Al-Marqab and Montterrand will open their gates to us without conflict. I fear that the others will need more persuasion. I will send scratch forces to those two castles to ensure their compliance, I trust the word of the Lords that govern them. As for Tripoli I have sent word for an inquisitor to be sent to determine Bertrand’s place, as long as his holiness accepts my proposal it should not be too long before he arrives. Meanwhile I will take my men and move to Tripoli. If we can sever the head then the body will join us limply. The campaign must be quick for I have left my lands perilously under defended by bringing such a force here. We have too little troops and too many enemies, but with Gods guidance the heathens will be defeated. What say you good Sir Knight?”

Raymond sighed glancing over his shoulder to see the king head back towards the tower in which he was staying, he then turned back to Roger,

"I will assist you my friend, we can only hope for the best.....it appears as if our luck is not of the best kind at the moment, there has been no word of the Templars assistance to our cause but i may only imagine they would remain loyal to Christianity..it is their soul purpose!"

He shook his head,

"Yes..they will come..but now we must act swiftly as you say before the odds are turned totally against us..i have not the men to put up a sizeable force but i can offer some to your aid..this fortress, headquarters of the Knight Hospitallar must remain in our hands..it is perfect for launching attacks, holding counter attacks and maintaining control of this area.."

"If Bertrand is making an alliance with the heathens then we will need the assistance of god..."

Raymond slapped Roger on the shoulder twice and gave him a single nod,

"If god is with us, who will it be to help them..fear not Roger of Salerno, the Heathens will be stopped and all days to come will be ours!"

OOC: I assume that this is taking place in the past now as we have moved on a year in RP time?

IC:

Krac de Chevaliers

Roger nodded at the Grand Master’s words. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the hot sun and wash himself, the remains of nearly two weeks travelling had left his skin itchy and exceptionally dirty.

“Christ’s soldiers will be victorious. I will rest here tonight and then take my forces to Tripoli early in the morning. I have dispatched men to the garrisons that have sent word that they will cede to us if asked. My men on the plain will need water, so I ask for us to send our water carts up here to fill them from your wells and distribute it to the men. I have over 5,000 with me and more awaiting in Antioch should they be needed. If Bertrand is already back in Tripoli I will send messengers to him to beg this not to come to bloodshed, no doubt the heathens would seize upon the moment if we are internally divided. ”



Castle at Montterrand

Ten Knights rode up towards the castles main gate. The sun glistened from their polished armour and lance tips as they approached at a trot. One of them held a standard showing the jewelled cross that marked the Principality of Antioch whilst another held a flag of truce.

Roger had sent one of his most trusted Knights to lead the group, Paulo D’Algreve. D’Algreve approached at the head of the small troop now, keeping his lance raised to the clear blue sky and hailing the gate guards.

“We come in peace. The most Christian Regent of Antioch Roger of Salerno sends greetings to your Lord. Are we permitted entry to deliver our message to him?”

The Guard disappeared for a while, obviously to check with his Captain. A few minutes later the gates slowly opened, several men-at-arms pushing each one. The Knights waited for them to be fully open and then entered, the coolness of the archway seeming like a flood of water over their heated bodies. Stable boys were waiting for them and they took the horses reigns to allow the mounted nobility to dismount, leading the mounts away once they had. Another Man-at-Arms, a Captain by his demeanour, motioned for them to follow him and they advanced towards the keep.

Once in the keep they were greeted by a Knight in full armour speaking French. Only one of the party spoke French and he moved to the fore, speaking with D’Algreve before passing the message along. After a few minutes of this they moved into the Lord’s hall, where armour and weapons were removed and the Knights given fresh clothes. Most chose to reattach their swords and daggers to their belts, keeping them close at all time. D’Algreve rested his left hand on the hilt of his sword, gently fingering the gold encrusted rim that ran around the top.

The Knight who spoke French was having a heated conversion with the Lord of the Manor and eventually turned to D’Algreve with a small smile on his face. He adjusted his robe before speaking.

“My Lord. The Lord Juliez announces that he will not bar his gates to soldiers of Antioch and that we may consider himself, his men and his realm to be servants of Christ. In return he asks merely that the blood of fellow Christians is not shed.”

“Assure him that it is not our intention. Only Bertrand will be held responsible, no others. Now send a messenger to Roger to inform him that Montterrand is ours. Al-maraq will soon fall in line when it realises it is now sandwiched between Antiochan lands.”

OOC: I assume that this is taking place in the past now as we have moved on a year in RP time?

IC:

Krac de Chevaliers

Roger nodded at the Grand Master’s words. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the hot sun and wash himself, the remains of nearly two weeks travelling had left his skin itchy and exceptionally dirty.

“Christ’s soldiers will be victorious. I will rest here tonight and then take my forces to Tripoli early in the morning. I have dispatched men to the garrisons that have sent word that they will cede to us if asked. My men on the plain will need water, so I ask for us to send our water carts up here to fill them from your wells and distribute it to the men. I have over 5,000 with me and more awaiting in Antioch should they be needed. If Bertrand is already back in Tripoli I will send messengers to him to beg this not to come to bloodshed, no doubt the heathens would seize upon the moment if we are internally divided. ”

OOC: Yeah, we can say this is in the past..catch up time :P


"I will have your quarters prepared and have my men watch for your messengers to return, in the meantime i will have barrels brought fourth from our underground stores and water will be put in them ready to be loaded on the carts when they reach the fort..you and your men are tired..i will send one of my knights to tell your men to bring the carts..."

"Now..you must rest easy friend, i will take care of things..and i know you have many men but i think 500 of mine could be of some use, 250 Knights, 250 men at arms...they are fine soldiers...come to think of it..i insist.."

One of Raymonds men were tasked with delivering the message back to the plains to send the carts up, another was dispatched to the stores and asked to bring othgers with him so the task would be complete quicker......

----------------
New Year Report
----------------
Starting Men: 1,800 Knights; 1,200 men-at-arms

Starting bezants before taxes: 8,000 gold bezants


Starting bezants after taxes: ------<< working on this..

Maintenance Costs:
5,600 for Knight upkeep (1,800)
1,200 for men-at-arm upkeep (1,200)
=
6,800 Bezants

Troops raised:

300 Archers for 300 gold bezants

Reinforcements received:

40 Mounted Knights
70 Men-at-arms
25 Archers
3 Cogs
7 Schooners

=
900 bezants left in treasury (Untill i work out who i trade with..)

OOC: I would have more but i have to go through and figure out who i trade with ect..i don't have a navy or any fortifications besides my starting one...

OOC:

I was originally going to put more in this, but it's sinking down and I want to stop that, so here goes.

IC:

Byzantine Army in Armenia.

It was almost painful how anticlimactic it was.

Byzantine standards now fluttered in the breeze on the walls of Gorigos the city and from its defensive island fortress’s strong, stone walls. Gorigos was a fairly sizeable place, and if the Armenian forces placed within had been strong enough, they could have held out an impressively long time, perhaps long enough to compel a Byzantine retreat, and that most likely would have stopped the whole invasion a few seasons whilst the Byzantines trained knights and men-at-arms to replace those lost in the fighting.

It happened, however, that the Armenian garrison at Gorigos had been pitifully small, and lacking any reinforcements to count on they had fled. That was an understandable thing, a logical choice with such bad odds. What made it bad was that when they had left they had left all the people, and they had left everything intact. Patrols through the city found some local efforts, such as people spilling wine and so on down drains to deny it to the invaders in a spiteful show of defiance, but not much else. Honestly this was probably good for the locals, as the vanguard units that entered the city were less inclined to disobey John when instructed not to sack the place and kill everybody.

It took all afternoon and evening to secure Gorigos, and once it was done the army settled in for the night. John II made his headquarters on the island fortress. He did not rest much in comparison to his men, having too much to get accomplished and too little time to do it in. Gorigos was only the first among many phases.

He shuddered at the thought most would not be so easy.

OOC: I've forgotten to add my reinforcements to my balance sheet, I'll do that now. Is there any friendly Kingdom who wish to purchase cut price Cog's and Schooners?

Krac de Chevaliers

Roger nodded to the Grand Master’s request that some of his troops accompany the Antiochians and made light conversation with him as they walked to the chambers. Krac de Chevaliers was an impressive fortress, Roger had not visited it before but had heard many stories of the huge ramparts and unassailable towers, he could see labourers working on improving the walls still further. No doubt the Hospitallars were worried with the events in the Holy Land. They were quite right to be, for not one but three armies were marching to war and conquest, and only one of them was Christian.


The next day,
The Road from Krac de Chevelliers to Tripoli.

Again Roger of Salerno marched at the head of his army. Light cavalry scouts were out all around the marching men, watching for any possible threat to the long column as well as picking out camping sites, watering holes and other useful territorial markers for the advancing column. Immediately behind Roger and his bodyguard came the 250 Knights Hospitallars that were accompanying the force, their black cloaks showing their allegiance to any and all watchers. The Hospitallars Men-at-arms were some way back within the main body of the Antiochian foot soldiers, maching through the dust thrown up by the horses to their front and sides.

They were marching directly for Tripoli. Roger had no interest in the outlying forts at the moment. Bertrand would be made to explain himself by peace or by force. The need for the Christian Kingdoms to remain united would be pressed on him, already Antioch was taking the castles at Montterrand and Al-maraq. Roger wanted Tripoli to be under Antiochan control and not that of the impure Bertrand, who already seemed willing to sell out his Christian brothers to the Muslim hordes.

Though Roger didn’t know it yet there were hordes more dangerous than the Muslims in the North. The Byzantines and Turks were combined in an seemingly unstoppable force. If Antioch was to survive that she needed men and assistance from the other Christian Kingdoms, yet the Templars were silent and the King of Jerusalem seemed more worried with the Muslims to the East than any secular alliance in the North. Antioch was not yet in peril, but with everyday it came closer.