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The Dissolution of the Holsteiner Crown [CEROULIA ONLY]; The Confederation is torn to bits at the hands of the mob.
Topic Started: Sep 28 2015, 02:39 AM (66 Views)
Ceroulia
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Schloss Nordkirchen: Weissburg, Holstein
The Throne Room/Great Hall
June 10th, 2015
9 PM


The Confederal Assembly was assembled before the King, the Chancellor, the Confederal Directorate, and members of the Royal Household in the grand hall of the Schloss Nordkirchen. The government had counted, since the arrival of the Ceroulians the day after the Weissburg compact was signed, the votes for the dissolution of the Crown of Holstein. The final votes were counted in the grand hall, and the referendum was nearing its end. The murmurs in the hall, the hushed tones of intrigue, gave the hall a grim atmosphere for poor Ludwig, the now moribund King. The Ceroulians, the three men running the elections consisted of the diplomat Manrique Gonzalez, Friar Baldwin Busleyden, and the nobleman Roberto Méndez de Sotomayor, Duke of Soutomaior.

Alongside the balconies, armed Imperial Soldiers looked down upon the scene kept their eyes trained on the trio of men running the farce. The President of the Directorate, Johann Christian Henrici, stood up defiantly, and sternly said at the Ceroulians.

"Anytime now, Gentlemen."

The Ceroulians, unfazed by the little giggles and the subsequent silence that Henrici had acquired, merely stared, to which Manrique replied,

"You may sit, sir. For the fate of your nation shall be decided in a few minutes. Give our computers time, and they shall finally put you out of your misery. We wouldn't have called you here if it wasn't about to be over with."

As the murmurs of the crowd returned, Fray Busleyden looked at him and said to him in Macean, "Are you sure that we are almost done?"

Manrique assured the young Friar. "Certainly." He noticed the unconformable state of the friar's appearance. It wouldn't be long, as the voting commission told Manrique just a quarter hour prior. The King, looking absolutely distraught, stared right at Manrique, the true leader of the trio. Theodore Foster, the Chancellor of the Cortes assembled this team and presented him before the Cortes and the Emperor, receiving approval from both to send them into Holstein. Manrique, a favorite of Theodore,had previous experience working in Holstein, serving as the legal attache to the Ceroulian Diplomatic Mission in Holstein from the years 2010 to 2013. The Fray was sent largely to negotiate with the Apostolic Nuncio in Weissburg, and also to assure Catholic faithful in the Pro-Ceroulian Provinces. The nobleman, to represent the Emperor personally.

Ludwig had surely learned this over the past few days. This little Cosenan, Manrique, now held the kingdom in his hands as de facto dictator of the whole region . His power had slipped under this devil. Despite this silent coup brought at the quiver of penstrokes, the man had been intent on maintaining his styles, saying many bittersweet "Sa Majesté", "Sire", "Eure Majestät", "Herrscher". These were empty sayings now, as the true ruler of at least half his nation now sat in some palace alcove window in Borjes. The tension broke the man's heart. The old wretch stared at Manrique until their gazes met, prompting the King to get up, and leave the room in a silent fir. Some courtiers followed him, alongside other members of the government. Roberto, sensing the tension, silently signaled some of the soldiers of the balcony to follow them out.

Henrici, looked somewhat shattered from the disappearance of his King and government, turned to see them leave, and then turned back to face the crowd, whose murmurs entered a slight lull. Roberto approached Manrique and whispered into his ear, "They better get this done soon, or we'll lose the whole damn crowd."

"Don't fret, my lord." Manrique said with conviction. "These court rats love the theatre more than their king." Saying this brought a small smirk to Manrique's face.

"I hope for your sake, Manrique! The press will eat this up if they see people leave the grand hall without a verdict. The whole of Medina Azahara will have our heads on the block for leaving them empty handed!" Roberto peeled away from Manrique's presence and turned to the doors which held the computers that would calculate the votes.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The clock struck 9:20 and the doors rattled and swung open. firstly no one came out, but after a few seconds, a man in a white collared shirt with rolled sleeves walked out. The crowd parted for him like Moses, and he reached the lower steps of the throne, where the Ceroulians were, and handed him the result.

On a plain sheet of folded A4 printer paper, the results were scribbled on with blue pen. Manrique looked behind him to see that there no onlookers. Seeing that no one was looking at him he opened the paper slightly and read the results. He looked up and looked across the throne room, seeing the doors that would take him to the press and the public. He headed across the room, the crowds parting as they did before, and asked that the doors be opened for him. Henrici, seeing that the result was given but not annouced, bellowed, "Manrique, you Ceroulian scoundrel! Tell us the result!"

"Damn you Henrici!", retorted Manrique. He came before the doors, who opened before him and the Press took notice, the cameras flashing, and the public in the hall screaming. Inside the throne room, order had broken down, as Henrici and his supporters now argued with Pro-Ceroulian courtiers .

»»-------------¤-------------««

In some isolated part of the palace, Ludwig looked out over the Royal Forest. Henrici came up towards him, his clothes tattered. The chaos in the Throne Room had turned into a violent fight. Ludwig turned to see Henrici. "My God, Henrici!" Henrici simply allayed the king by putting his hand up. "It is finished."

Ludwig looked away from Henrici, his stomach churning. "What can we do now?" Henrici, at a loss for words, exhaled. An Imperial soldier entered the room quietly, but he was noticed by Ludwig. "What are you doing here, Ceroulian?" The soldier, not fazed by the man, said "I present to you Manrique Gonzalez, Regent of the Duchy of Avergogne."

Manrique entered the room, his gruff features softened by the hushed lights. "My Lord, by the request of the Duchess of Avergogne and the Emperor of Ceroulia, I present to you the offer of travel to the City of Borjes to meet my liege, the Emperor."

"Over what?", rebuffed the King.

"The dissolution of the Holsteiner Crown."
Edited by Ceroulia, Sep 28 2015, 02:52 AM.
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Ceroulia
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Saons, Avergogne (Western Holstein)
June 11th, 2015
4 PM


Roberto and the King

The previous night had brought some hellish memories to Ludwig, who had been smuggled out of Weissburg i n the early hours of the morning. Here he sat, in the town hall surrounded by some peasants, and imperial soldiers who kept him safe from the prying eyes of the peasantry. Outside, the rest of the assigned bodyguard maintained watch. Some of the original diplomats who presided over the destruction of the Crown of Holstein, such as Manrique, stayed in Weissburg, with his three divisions worth of men guarding the city from his perch in the Schloss.

Baldwin and Roberto accompanied the King to Saons where he would transported by jet to Borjes, where he would meet the Emperor. This was a venture the King had brought on himself, as he did not really wish to leave his nation. The power of duress, it seemed to him, was a potent motivator.

Roberto had been notified that escort the airfield near Saons was now ready for takeoff. "A thirty minute drive" thought Roberto as he sifted his way past the guards. "My King, Our escorts and flight is ready to leave." Ludwig, looking up at Roberto, merely rose to meet him and said "Let's go." with a dying inflection.

Within forty-five minutes, the jet plane and its escorts were now on a flight to Borjes.

[WIP maybe, but all important shit has been said]

»»-------------¤-------------««

Fray Baldwin and the People

[WIP]
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