I CHOOSE THE LEGITIMATE, TRUE ROYALIST GOVERNMENT OF MUSCOVY!
Tsar Boris V was furious. His uncle was killed for marrying the Scythian peasant. His father, the uncle's brother and next-in-line, had just died a year ago, so now the throne passed to him, Boris. His uncle dead, his father dead, you'd think they had their fill of revenge and hatred for the family. But no, that was not enough for these stupid ignorant peasants and the richer traitors! They had imprisoned his family in the Rurik Palace! On top of that, the ingrate Scythians have revolted once again in the Ukraine, the main Muscovite breadbasket!
At least the Army was still on the royalist side. And so was the city police force, which was somewhat subordinated with the Army as well.
For weeks he had secretly been exchanging messages with the police commisar, a childhood friend of his, and they had worked out a plan to drive the traitors from the Rurik Palace.
In the middle of the night on the anniversary of the establishment of the Muscovite Empire, while the peasants and their lords were drinking and partying, the Army and police had abstained from celebrating, settling for just an hour of dancing and dinner without vodka, knowing that the mission they were called upon to do was important - it meant the survival of the Muscovite Empire itself. And if sacrificing one night of hard-partying meant being written into the anals of history forever as Muscovy's saviors, then it would be a sacrifice that wouldn't even be a sacrifice. It would be an honor.
As the peasants and nobles were partying in the party hall of the Palace, members of the local Army and police units descended upon the city. They first sought out all the peasants and nobles that participated in the revolt in the capital and executed them right where they found them. Then they headed straight for the Palace, where the leaders of the rebellion in Moscow were still drunk and totally unaware of what had happened to more than half of their "legions" in the city. By the time the moon was in the position in the sky showing that the anniversary day had come to an end, the Palace's party hall was flooded with the blood of the traitors.
The Rurik Dynasty was free.
The next day, the Tsar made his freedom known by declaring a "convention" in front of the Palace for all of Moscow's residents - or the ones that survived last night's attack, anyways.
"My uncle married a Scythian peasant," Boris began, and this immediately elicited some shouting and grumbling in the crowd. "SILENCE! YOUR TSAR SPEAKS!" They all quieted down after his thunderous voice boomed at them as if amplified magically. "Then, peasants and nobles came together and locked us in! THEY LOCKED THE FAMILY OF THE TSARS, THE FAMILY THAT FOUNDED MUSCOVY IN THE RURIK PALACE, WHICH HAS FOR CENTURIES BEEN THE CENTERPOINT OF THE MUSCOVITE EMPIRE! AND YOU ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN, AS WELL! NOW, UKRAINE IS IN REVOLT! WHO WILL FEED YOU, YOU FOOLS?! ANOTHER PART OF MUSCOVY JUST EAST OF THE UKRAINE IS ALSO IN REVOLT, UNDER THE CONTROL OF THE SAME NOBLES AND PEASANTS THAT DECREED THAT "THE RURIKS WERE UNFIT TO RULE"! WHO WILL FEED THEM? NO DOUBT THE SCYTHIANS HAVE TAKEN THIS OPPORTUNITY TO REVOLT BECAUSE THE NOBILITY AND PEASANTRY OF MUSCOVY ITSELF JOINED FORCES TO TRY AND DEPOSE THE RIGHTFUL RULERS OF THE MUSCOVITE EMPIRE! THEY KNEW THAT WE WOULD BE WEAKENED BY A BETRAYAL FROM OUR VERY OWN! AND YOU ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN, AS WELL!" Boris did not hold back any emotion - he was unleashing all his fury, and the Muscovites watched and listened in terror. "I must look crazy to you," He suddenly calmed down. "Well, I have to admit: I am crazy! Crazy about my love for Muscovy! Crazy about my desire to keep our country strong, large, UNITED! I want you to join me in my insanity and desire to restore our greatness, which may well be shattered by the betrayal of the boyars.
"Yes, my uncle married a Scythian peasant. That's right, she wasn't Muscovite. She was Scythian. The sole bad part was that, indeed, she was a peasant. I, myself, even as a younger boy, did not think the marriage was right. But I hardly think that it means that the Rurik Dynasty is unfit for rulership, and it hardly meant that he desrved to be killed at the hands of your ruthless mobs!
"Today you woke up and found that many of your friends had not returned home. Maybe your fathers, or husbands, or sons, had not come from the anniversary parties. So you asked your neighbors, and they, too, were missing, or they, too where asking 'where are they?' So then you finally went to the bars and taverns and clubs, and found your friends and family there, dead in bloodbaths. And you asked yourselves, 'Why? Who?' The answers to those questions are: They betrayed Muscovy and were punished; and it was Loyalist Muscovites, true men of honor, who perpetrated the massacres. Yes, it was extreme. Yes, it was cruel. But what about my uncle who was killed by you mobs? What about my father who was shamed into being imprisoned by you mobs? How did I learn this kind of cruelty that I would know how I should give the order to perpetrate it? I learned from you and the traitors.
You have brought this upon yourselves! Let it be a lesson to all of you, and everyone of the traitors still out there, that have survived somehow and fled the city, and that are somewhere else in the Empire. WE WILL FIND YOU! AND YOU WILL PAY THE PRICE FOR TRYING TO DESTROY THE RURIK FAMILY! YOU WILL PAY THE PRICE FOR YOUR BETRAYAL!
"The Rurik Dynasty will not die out at the hands of peasants armed with pitchforks and their drunken boyar overlords! I would have had compassion, I would have hesitated to use such great violence, had my family been shown compassion, hesitation, the benefit of the doubt.
"Now, I am more than prepared to use whatever force, spill as much blood as may be spilt, to reunite Muscovy once again under our rightful rule! Let it be known that if the Rurik Dynasty is on its last legs, it will not go down with its tail between those last legs, giving in to the demands of ingorant rabble and drunk boyars!
"The Scythian insurgency will once again be crushed! Maybe they will try again in the future, but they will be crushed now! And with each defeat they suffer, they will learn another piece of the lesson: that Muscovite power is unquestioned.
"However, the Scythian Ukraine is not the true problem. For the cancerous plague that is rebellion and civil war started not with the Scythian dissent, but with the betrayal of the aristocracy and peasantry. This disease will be exterminated by the Rurik Dynasty. "Not fit to rule?" We'll show you and them and the world that the Rurik Dynasty is not only the legitimate heirs to the throne of Muscovy, but that it manages to defend its claim to the throne and defeat anyone who contests it!
"Tough times are head! Last night, with the destruction of the boyar-peasant insurgency in the capital, the beginnind of the end of the worst betrayal of Muscovite history has come. Blood will be spilt. People will die. But all in the name of the glory of the Muscovite Empire.
"Unfortunately, even if it means that we will be distracted by our own civil war with our own traitorous brethren and the Scythians of Ukraine will declare their independence and gain a powerful enough army to back it up, the home-grown insurgency will end! And evetually, even Ukraine will be ours once again! But know this! I, and my successors, will not rest until every single participant and leader of the boyar-peasant insurgency is dead!"
People in the crowd had mixed reactions. Some wept. Some gritted their teeth in anger. Some screamed Boris's name in adoration and support.
But Boris no longer cared what these fools thought. They were there at the murder of his uncle and his Scythian aunt. Though she was a peasant, and not even a Muscovite one at that, she was very kind to him. The few memories he had of the few weeks they had together were filled with fondness.
He would have wept at the flood of those memories of a life stolen by revolution, but no, he didn't cry. He couldn't cry. Half of all his tears poured from him like a waterfall the day he was forced by the rebels to watch the slaughter of his uncle and the Scythian peasant wife. The rest of his tears were expelled from his body when he heard his father whisper to him on his deathbed his last words, a sort of private last will: "Don't give in to them. Fight them. Avenge the deaths of your uncle and aunt." He wailed for hours, kneeling by and hugging the man even after he had already passed on to the heaven of the gods, crying "I can't! I can't!", until finally, after his eyes were finally dried out, that he said, with a cold, vengeful sharpness in his voice, "I will." For now, he had no emotion left except for happiness and fury. Fury he had all this time the family was imprisoned and this fury he had only begun to unleash. Happiness would only come on the day when the sun shone upon a Muscovy devoid of the traitors and he alone would be able to rejoice and dance in the red river of their blood.
Across Muscovy, the Army was ready. Muscovy would be united again. Not under the traitor boyars, who had been handed too many privileges by the predecessors and thought they knew everything. Not under the traitor peasants, who thought that since they worked the land for the boyars, that they had a say in what kind of order Muscovy should be in. Not under the Scythians, who were as vengeful for the slaughters of centuries past as Boris was for the slaughters of only a year past. But under the Rurik Dynasty. It was the Ruriks who founded the great empire. And when the Rurik Dynasty truly sees that it's time to hand over the reins to a new group of rulers, then it will be the Ruriks who will preside over the coronation ceremony. Not the evil traitors.
...
Orders will be PM-ed tomorrow. I gotta go to sleep now.
)? I can not find them in the statistics.
