So, before I begin with roleplay and clarifying a few things and leaving my last bits of information to current and future Strategus leaders -- I want to say Thank You to everyone who took part in writing our story this Strategus. We are nearing our final days of having a home in Strategus, and with that many of the clan have decided we hardly want to remain even after this. So, with that said. Thank you to all of you, friends, foe, or what have you--without the community we would not have been able to have this much fun, in such a short short short amount of time.
One last story before I go:
There was no sleep to be had by the Lord. Though he tried, the howls of the starving and the pleas of those whom attempted to escape. Boys and the Elderly alike had been given weapons, though they were often not given any armor other than what they had managed to save upon them. Lord Tanken, in a last chance to redeem himself for whatever damnations he had done upon himself and others, ordered his finest robes and attire, his personal armory be given away, and what left of the Banquet Hall emptied to the streets below to feed the starving, and those soon to perish.
Every cask was emptied that night of the cellar, he would let his people go down in good spirits before he turned over one crumb to those outside his gate. He rose, chilled in sweat as he wrapped himself in a thick fur coat that he had saved from being thrown to the courtyard below. His feet found their slippers and made his way from his bedchamber. The cries and chatter were deafening as servants and peasants now clung to one another in fear, knowing their departure from this world was not far. As he rounded the corner, some four or so women huddled together in prayer broke, and stared at him in apologies.
"Do not break from prayer, we need all we can." he would say before turning from them and continuing down a narrow hall. He found himself near the front of the keep, opening a few doors and finally ending up on the balcony overlooking the city. He could see them, thousands upon thousands of tiny campfires off in the distance. The moon cascaded over their tents and though he could not see the banners from here, he knew it must have been fifteen clans together in one assault to take his head. His men saw it too, and bewildered, the few soldiers clinging to the walls at this hour watched in terror. Song could be heard from afar, laughter, and merriment, while here within their gates, nothing but the fear of death and agony gave sound.
The door behind him creaked, and he turned to see his Queen poke her head out. Since the war had started, they had often times slept in separate bed, the King too shaken with anxiety and mad-thoughts to be settled aside her. She came forth and placed a hand upon his shoulder, looking out at what he saw as well.
"What would you have me do, my King?" she would ask of him.
"Lord Knute, Elder of the Free Peasants, shall see you to safety beyond our city. Go, and with him, take our son." he would say gruffly, shifting from one foot to another as his hands cast snow off of the banister railing.
With a soft nod and a kiss upon his cheek she would turn, but would pause a moment at the door. Her longing gaze stared back at him.
"And what will I tell your son of you?" she asked with a lump in her throat.
"Tell him," he'd say, bringing a hand to his mouth to cough, and clear his throat of what fear would fall from his lips. "Tell him that I am a good man. Tell him to trust no one who has not given reason to earn trust. Tell him to turn ear to lies and fallacies, let him not be stooped low to combat with words against the inbreds of Calradia. Keep his wits about him, never let himself be played for a fool. And most of all, may he know that should he ever be faced to take the great departure--those honorable of the Tundra shall be met by me on their way to the Grand Plains."
The door would close without sound behind him and again his gaze would look forth. Perhaps one day his son would be of age to ride forth and reclaim the Tundra, for this old man's adventure was coming to an end. Perhaps a few decisions along the way could have avoided this, but ultimately, it was destined this way from the start.
Some rules to Rule by:
1. Never spread yourself too thin. Do not invest more than you have the backing for. Or, in easier to understand terms, do not bite off more than you can chew.
2. Put trust in no one other than those who have proven to show it.
3. Do not think that honor is something all men of Calradia live by, those with honor are too far and few in between.
4. Speak softly of your Strategy, do not flaunt it around to all of those, even those closest in your clan.
5. Do not take on vassalage with the weak.
6. Start yourself small with your claim, and grow from there.
7. Have the backing of all of your members for every action, and every step.
8. Be prepared for others to smell blood in the water, should you let them.
9. Do not hesitate for any second in Calradia to make a move for what could better you.
10. If you are to meet your end, as I am nearing, go down with grace.
Those whom will become the victors will belittle you, or change stories because no one cares long enough to hear your voice any longer. Be prepared to handle that. You may be one of the most well-regarded clans outside of Strategus, but your actions, and your words through Strategus will change and manipulate the image the community has of you. Be ready for that, I wasn't.
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It is said that the victor writes History, and to this, I have no qualm. But I ask this, let our lesson be told to those whom shall come after us, and let them see the mistakes made of a Great Kingdom and the stabs upon their back made against them.
