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

In the opulent room of the Neopatras palace, an old man sat in a high-backed, elaborately carved wooden chair. The room exuded an air of grandeur, with rich tapestries adorning the walls and golden sconces casting a warm, flickering light. The aged man, with his weathered face and a crown of silver hair, looked every bit the venerable sage.

He clutched a goblet of fine wine, its deep red hue shimmering in the ambient light, as he waited with an air of patient expectation. The crystal goblet bore intricate patterns etched into its surface, reflecting the refined taste of the Neopatras court.

As he sipped from the goblet, the wine's bouquet filled the room with notes of dark fruits and oak, creating an intoxicating aroma that mingled with the scent of polished wood. With each sip, the old man savored the complex flavors, a testament to the quality of the vintage.

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