Pain in the Neck
The Chronicals of the von Henneberg Vampires
Prelude to the Storm
Wallachia, 1109
Snow drifted silently across the hills and vallies of Wallachia. The sky was greyed by the snow clouds above, and the low-hanging sun that sank benieth the horizon. The new settlers of Wallachia had been living under a secretive family of Grand-Dukes known as the von Hennebergs. It was the patriarch of the clan, Heinrich I who, with Hungarian and Byzantine assistance, chased the pagans from the land, and invited Hungarians and Germans to settle the land. They were quiet pleased with Heinrich. But they were even more pleased with his successor, Mannfred I. Mannfred build castles across his entire realm, and through stead research and proper saving and spending, was able to elivate Wallachia beyond a European back-water. By the time of Mannfred's death in 1106, Wallachia was one of the most powerful Catholic nations. A favourite with the Pope, and an ally of many in times of trouble.
But with Mannfred's death, a new ruler assumed the throne. Like Mannfred, no one saw him crowned, there were no parties or anything befitting of royalty. The Magyar and Saxon settlers just assumed that the von Hennebergs were more concerned with the good of the Grand-Duchy than their own pesonal wealth. And like Heinrich I, there was no burrial for the old ruler. Death in the von Henneberg family was always a strange ordeal, one that left all the monarchs in Europe confused.
So, when the King of Bohemia got confirmation that a new ruler leader had taken over the reigns of Wallachia, he sent an embissary down to Wallachia to send the tidings of their Kingdom. They rode through the winter landscape toward the capital at Birlad. As they went through the war torn border counties on Wallachia's western fringe, they saw entire villages drapped in mourning black. The entire atmosphere seemed very low. People cried and preyed for Mannfred's entry into Heaven beyond.
"They really did love that man," Chancellor Vladimir said as they passed a small church erecting a shrine to their dearly departed Grand-Duke.
"Yes they did, but it is odd that they would fallow a man so fervously without anyone ever seeing him. For all they know he didn't exist," said Spy Master Jaromir.
The two men traveled with a small contigent of troops, who were dressed more for show than fighting. No one in the country side seemed to pay them much attention. In their grief the country's economy sagged slightly, and a plague of Typhoid in the south was doing nothing to help the problem. By the middle of December, the Bohemian onvoy reached the city of Tirgoviste, and was able to take room in one of the royal castles.
Vladimir, the eldest of the Bohemians, entered the dinning room of the palace and saw Prince Walram at the other end, surounded by young women, who were swooning over him, feeding him, and generally trying to get selected as to bring honor to their families. Vladimir recognized him from previous visits to the Grand-Duchy during their war with Hungary, after which they had managed to take Temes and southern Transylvania.
"Your, highness," Vladimir said with a deep bow, "I am sorrowed by your father's passing."
"Pfft! My father isn't dead!" the haughty boy said with his thick German accent.
"Wa? Were you not Mannfred's son? I saw you last..."
"Yes, in Birlad... but that doesn't make me his son."
"I apologise, I just assumed..."
"Well you assumed wrong!" Walram pounded his fist on the table, scaring all within the room.
"Well then, my I ask what is your relationship with the dearly departed?"
"None! And who are you to question MY heraldry! I should have you removed from my castle, but you're lucky that the Grand-Duke himself has granted you passage!" Vladimir was taken back by the remark, and he looked over at Jaromir who was just as dumbfounded. The rest of the night continued without any problems, Walram took his gaggle of followers up into his own chambers, and was never seen for the rest of their stay in Tirgoviste.
The next morning, the air was warmer than before, but the ground remained burried under several inches of snow. "Who was that young man we spoke with last night?" asked Jaromir.
"Well, that was Walram von Henneberg, but he is denying his association with Mannfred. I could've sworn that Walram himself told me that he was Mannfred's son! It is very confusing, he must be angry that he did not take the throne."
"Why wouldn't he? Is he not the eldest son?"
"It doesn't work that way out here in Wallachia. The ruler selects his heir out of any surviving family member. He must have picked someone that Walram was not on good terms with."
"But to deny his father?!"
"He is young, and will learn with time."
In the distance, Birlad castle loomed. The clouds had been building for the last ten hours, and now were thick and dominating as they shadowed the ground below them. It was odd that while the rest of the nation mourned, Birlad was still quiet active and hustling. The city had swollen over, like Tirgoviste, with Saxon settlers and crusaders. The rest of the country was filled with Magyar settlers who descended from Hungarian mercenaries used to fight the pagans. From Birlad's tallest tower, one could see the Byzantine realm of Varna, a juicy target for Catholics wanting a port on the Black Sea.
As the Bohemian ambassadors entered the city, trumpets blazed their arrivial and dignitaries began collecting in front of St. István, the church at the center of Birlad. Vladimir recognized many faces, but did not see the new Grand-Duke. They were accepted as heros of the realm, and taken into the darkness of the church. At the alter stood a tall man, with a feral sophistication that reminded Jaromir of Walram before he began his tantrum. The man was at prayer, and everyone was silent until he turned around and in a booming voice spoke to the foreigners.
"Welcome, my allies from beyond! It is during a sad time in my lands that you have happened upon my city. My brother Mannfred has died, and I am still in mourning."
Vladimir turned to Jaromir and whispered, "Stay alter, something isn't right, Mannfred was an only child." The man claiming to be the current Wallachian heir walked over to where Vladimir sat. Vladimir instantly recognized him as a von Henneberg. His apperence was very similar to Mannfred's, and he wouldn't be surprised if they weren't twins even though he was certain Mannfred didn't have any siblings.
"Did my son, Walram treat you well?"
"As he was expected, he did not bother us much, instead taking to his room," Vladimir said.
"Ah yes, indulgent little bastard isn't he?"
"I am not in a place to remark."
"Of course not." On the Grand-Duke's left hand was the ring of Wallachia, with which he was wed to the realm and the realm to him.
"May I ask by which name does the newest ruler of Wallachia go by?"
"Heinrich II von Henneberg, I am my father's name sake." He smiled wickedly, as if he was hiding something.
"Well, your highness, we are here on behaf of the King of Bohemia, to express his sorrow at your brother's death, and to extend friendship and alliance to the new ruler of Wallachia."
"And I would wish to extend my thanks for his kindness, and ask that he pray for my brother's soul."
"Your brother was a good man, I met him once."
"You did, did you? That is interesting, Mannfred was not keen to speaking with foreign diplomats himself."
"I think I just managed to get special attention, I brought the original treaty of friendship extended by Bohemia to Wallachia."
"I think I remember now, but if you'd excuse me... I must be returning to my work. You are free to stay at the palace, or to return to Bohemia now, either way... I extend my thanks and friendship to your King, Vladimir."
Jaromir and Vladimir were both taken back, Vladimir had never disclosed his name to Heinrich. The Wallachian ruler walked past and down a set of stairs heading underground and away from the church itself.
"There is something odd about this," Vladimir said to Jaromir, "I wonder what he is plotting."
"Let us get out of here, obviously Heinrich is up to no good, and I don't want to be here when it starts." The entire group got up and headed toward the doors to leave. Half way there they were stopped by a small child. The small boy looked up at them with an ivory face and red eyes. He bared long fangs at the foreign dignitaries and bit into Jaromir's leg.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Vladimir yelled toward a figure who was locking the door behind him.
"Dietrich, let the man go!" It was the voice of Walram and he too smiled with long fangs. He was forty feet away when with two steps he want amongst the group with sword drawn. Jaromir never had a chance, nor did any of them really.
Vladimir watched from the floor as Heinrich returned to the room. He got down on one knee and dipped his forefinger into the pool of blood forming under the foreigners. He brought thesticky red fluid to his lips and sucked it off like it was a candy. He looked over at Vladimir and with a calm, sophisticated voice said, "The people of Wallachia never lost Mannfred, in fact, they never lost the first Heinrich. I am still here, I just need to cleanse my name every now and then, so you mortals will never catch on..." He smiled, and stood up. He walked away and never looked back as Walram bit into Vladimir and drained the aged man's body of all fluids.
"I'll tell the Bohemian King that they reached my castle, and I send them off, I'll tell them that I know they made it to Hungary... that'll keep Hungary and Bohemia busy for a few years... WALRAM!"
"Yes, father?"
"Get Dietrich, we need to return to the castle... I am waiting for a relec of the past to be brought back to me... next winter begins our assult on the lands of the living."
The Chronicals of the von Henneberg Vampires
Prelude to the Storm
Wallachia, 1109
Snow drifted silently across the hills and vallies of Wallachia. The sky was greyed by the snow clouds above, and the low-hanging sun that sank benieth the horizon. The new settlers of Wallachia had been living under a secretive family of Grand-Dukes known as the von Hennebergs. It was the patriarch of the clan, Heinrich I who, with Hungarian and Byzantine assistance, chased the pagans from the land, and invited Hungarians and Germans to settle the land. They were quiet pleased with Heinrich. But they were even more pleased with his successor, Mannfred I. Mannfred build castles across his entire realm, and through stead research and proper saving and spending, was able to elivate Wallachia beyond a European back-water. By the time of Mannfred's death in 1106, Wallachia was one of the most powerful Catholic nations. A favourite with the Pope, and an ally of many in times of trouble.
But with Mannfred's death, a new ruler assumed the throne. Like Mannfred, no one saw him crowned, there were no parties or anything befitting of royalty. The Magyar and Saxon settlers just assumed that the von Hennebergs were more concerned with the good of the Grand-Duchy than their own pesonal wealth. And like Heinrich I, there was no burrial for the old ruler. Death in the von Henneberg family was always a strange ordeal, one that left all the monarchs in Europe confused.
So, when the King of Bohemia got confirmation that a new ruler leader had taken over the reigns of Wallachia, he sent an embissary down to Wallachia to send the tidings of their Kingdom. They rode through the winter landscape toward the capital at Birlad. As they went through the war torn border counties on Wallachia's western fringe, they saw entire villages drapped in mourning black. The entire atmosphere seemed very low. People cried and preyed for Mannfred's entry into Heaven beyond.
"They really did love that man," Chancellor Vladimir said as they passed a small church erecting a shrine to their dearly departed Grand-Duke.
"Yes they did, but it is odd that they would fallow a man so fervously without anyone ever seeing him. For all they know he didn't exist," said Spy Master Jaromir.
The two men traveled with a small contigent of troops, who were dressed more for show than fighting. No one in the country side seemed to pay them much attention. In their grief the country's economy sagged slightly, and a plague of Typhoid in the south was doing nothing to help the problem. By the middle of December, the Bohemian onvoy reached the city of Tirgoviste, and was able to take room in one of the royal castles.
Vladimir, the eldest of the Bohemians, entered the dinning room of the palace and saw Prince Walram at the other end, surounded by young women, who were swooning over him, feeding him, and generally trying to get selected as to bring honor to their families. Vladimir recognized him from previous visits to the Grand-Duchy during their war with Hungary, after which they had managed to take Temes and southern Transylvania.
"Your, highness," Vladimir said with a deep bow, "I am sorrowed by your father's passing."
"Pfft! My father isn't dead!" the haughty boy said with his thick German accent.
"Wa? Were you not Mannfred's son? I saw you last..."
"Yes, in Birlad... but that doesn't make me his son."
"I apologise, I just assumed..."
"Well you assumed wrong!" Walram pounded his fist on the table, scaring all within the room.
"Well then, my I ask what is your relationship with the dearly departed?"
"None! And who are you to question MY heraldry! I should have you removed from my castle, but you're lucky that the Grand-Duke himself has granted you passage!" Vladimir was taken back by the remark, and he looked over at Jaromir who was just as dumbfounded. The rest of the night continued without any problems, Walram took his gaggle of followers up into his own chambers, and was never seen for the rest of their stay in Tirgoviste.
The next morning, the air was warmer than before, but the ground remained burried under several inches of snow. "Who was that young man we spoke with last night?" asked Jaromir.
"Well, that was Walram von Henneberg, but he is denying his association with Mannfred. I could've sworn that Walram himself told me that he was Mannfred's son! It is very confusing, he must be angry that he did not take the throne."
"Why wouldn't he? Is he not the eldest son?"
"It doesn't work that way out here in Wallachia. The ruler selects his heir out of any surviving family member. He must have picked someone that Walram was not on good terms with."
"But to deny his father?!"
"He is young, and will learn with time."
In the distance, Birlad castle loomed. The clouds had been building for the last ten hours, and now were thick and dominating as they shadowed the ground below them. It was odd that while the rest of the nation mourned, Birlad was still quiet active and hustling. The city had swollen over, like Tirgoviste, with Saxon settlers and crusaders. The rest of the country was filled with Magyar settlers who descended from Hungarian mercenaries used to fight the pagans. From Birlad's tallest tower, one could see the Byzantine realm of Varna, a juicy target for Catholics wanting a port on the Black Sea.
As the Bohemian ambassadors entered the city, trumpets blazed their arrivial and dignitaries began collecting in front of St. István, the church at the center of Birlad. Vladimir recognized many faces, but did not see the new Grand-Duke. They were accepted as heros of the realm, and taken into the darkness of the church. At the alter stood a tall man, with a feral sophistication that reminded Jaromir of Walram before he began his tantrum. The man was at prayer, and everyone was silent until he turned around and in a booming voice spoke to the foreigners.
"Welcome, my allies from beyond! It is during a sad time in my lands that you have happened upon my city. My brother Mannfred has died, and I am still in mourning."
Vladimir turned to Jaromir and whispered, "Stay alter, something isn't right, Mannfred was an only child." The man claiming to be the current Wallachian heir walked over to where Vladimir sat. Vladimir instantly recognized him as a von Henneberg. His apperence was very similar to Mannfred's, and he wouldn't be surprised if they weren't twins even though he was certain Mannfred didn't have any siblings.
"Did my son, Walram treat you well?"
"As he was expected, he did not bother us much, instead taking to his room," Vladimir said.
"Ah yes, indulgent little bastard isn't he?"
"I am not in a place to remark."
"Of course not." On the Grand-Duke's left hand was the ring of Wallachia, with which he was wed to the realm and the realm to him.
"May I ask by which name does the newest ruler of Wallachia go by?"
"Heinrich II von Henneberg, I am my father's name sake." He smiled wickedly, as if he was hiding something.
"Well, your highness, we are here on behaf of the King of Bohemia, to express his sorrow at your brother's death, and to extend friendship and alliance to the new ruler of Wallachia."
"And I would wish to extend my thanks for his kindness, and ask that he pray for my brother's soul."
"Your brother was a good man, I met him once."
"You did, did you? That is interesting, Mannfred was not keen to speaking with foreign diplomats himself."
"I think I just managed to get special attention, I brought the original treaty of friendship extended by Bohemia to Wallachia."
"I think I remember now, but if you'd excuse me... I must be returning to my work. You are free to stay at the palace, or to return to Bohemia now, either way... I extend my thanks and friendship to your King, Vladimir."
Jaromir and Vladimir were both taken back, Vladimir had never disclosed his name to Heinrich. The Wallachian ruler walked past and down a set of stairs heading underground and away from the church itself.
"There is something odd about this," Vladimir said to Jaromir, "I wonder what he is plotting."
"Let us get out of here, obviously Heinrich is up to no good, and I don't want to be here when it starts." The entire group got up and headed toward the doors to leave. Half way there they were stopped by a small child. The small boy looked up at them with an ivory face and red eyes. He bared long fangs at the foreign dignitaries and bit into Jaromir's leg.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Vladimir yelled toward a figure who was locking the door behind him.
"Dietrich, let the man go!" It was the voice of Walram and he too smiled with long fangs. He was forty feet away when with two steps he want amongst the group with sword drawn. Jaromir never had a chance, nor did any of them really.
Vladimir watched from the floor as Heinrich returned to the room. He got down on one knee and dipped his forefinger into the pool of blood forming under the foreigners. He brought thesticky red fluid to his lips and sucked it off like it was a candy. He looked over at Vladimir and with a calm, sophisticated voice said, "The people of Wallachia never lost Mannfred, in fact, they never lost the first Heinrich. I am still here, I just need to cleanse my name every now and then, so you mortals will never catch on..." He smiled, and stood up. He walked away and never looked back as Walram bit into Vladimir and drained the aged man's body of all fluids.
"I'll tell the Bohemian King that they reached my castle, and I send them off, I'll tell them that I know they made it to Hungary... that'll keep Hungary and Bohemia busy for a few years... WALRAM!"
"Yes, father?"
"Get Dietrich, we need to return to the castle... I am waiting for a relec of the past to be brought back to me... next winter begins our assult on the lands of the living."
