Allevatore_dicapre

In a usurped kingdom , amid a war-torn and  blood-soaked Italy, Conradin's battleground is set. To reclaim his birthright the crown of Sicily,  he must tread a path paved with blood, learning that he must do whatever it takes to ascend the throne.




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In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king.

In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable.

As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

The return of the fallen king

A shout of thanks to Corleon for his golden ticket!

Countess Beatrice, her chestnut hair flowing behind her like a banner, ran through the bustling city streets. Her face was a mix of determination and desperation as she was flanked by her loyal attendants, her faithful followers, who had joined her in this unexpected and somber journey.

As she moved through the winding streets, the people of the city turned to look, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern. Beatrice's presence was well-known, and seeing her running through the city was an unusual sight that stirred  intrigue.

Her flowing gown, typically elegant and regal, was now disheveled and billowing as she ran. Her steps were swift and purposeful, guided by the need to reach the port, to see the proof of her husband's fate with her own eyes.

The closing act of a falling star (2)