Kaiser Ketzerschlächter Auserwählt von Gott, née Wilhelm Burnell

Summary

It would be his own father who was killed first, and then his father's best friend. Not that the man who was once known as Wilhelm Burnell, a mere officer in the Imperial Army, is even aware of what order they were killed in...how could he be? He wasn't there, regardless of the visions that pass through his mind on the eve of the annual Night of Purgation. The real assassin of those two unfortunate men has long since been executed, their head added to the ever-growing, figurative pile of skulls that, if literally placed at the Good Kaiser's feet, would pile up to the Imperial Chamber's ceiling if not higher. From a humble, uncelebrated birth in an isolated mountain village, the high and mighty Kaiser has risen to the type of status most commoners could only dream of. Now, in an increasingly more meritocratic society, anyone born in this country under the Kaiser's golden banners is nigh-assured they will rise to the top, regardless of their class of origin - provided that they count themselves among the religious faithful, of course.

For out of the godless wreckage that would have been the kingdom of Bluterbe Friedrich Erstersohn von Kranzle, scion to the great High Statist Imperial Dynasty Kranzlehaus, has risen a renewed, sanctified nation that will soon become the envy of both its allies and enemies. Though the Kaiser is unashamed of his origins, his loyal subjects nonetheless find it quite surreal that a mere forgemaster's son could manage to make his way into the halls of Imperial glory, rather than merely becoming a peasant broodfather to a morass of squalling offspring. The answer is a simple one, though it gives rise to its own riddle: to utter the words that explain everything will spell one's certain death.

One may ask how this whole confusing state of affairs arose in the first place. The answer to that query, too, is easily reached. In truth, Friedrich was the first to perish, the word "traitor" never leaving his bloodsoaked lips even as the flame of life guttered and simmered to nothing in his eyes. Instead, in the bedchamber's stale air, he merely gasped the word that may even now rest upon the lips of the reader of this sordid chronicle:

"WHY...?"

Story Concepts

• Plot A: "Coronation" - It is the eve of the Kaiser's grand and official ascension to the Merciful Seat of the Nation, yet he is restless. What should have been an occasion of joy has become one of uncertainty, as the Hoherbräut (the High Groom tasked with dressing the Kaiser and otherwise assisting in his personal maintenance in the royal chambers) he was promised would be employed has turned out to be, unbelievably, a woman, and a foreigner at that. Her uncannily good grasp of the language speaks to her residing in the country for some time, and her manners suggest that she has had years of experience serving in the Imperial household.
  ...Yet how can this be? She only arrived at the palace tonight, and never before has she been employed in an Imperial context.

  Exclusive Trivia

  • Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, servants alone in the upper hallways of the palace swear they can hear the Kaiser singing. Hymns, mostly.
  • Hunting is a favored pastime of the Kaiser, and he keeps an extensive trophy hall full of his taxidermied prizes. A rumor passed by whispering Imperial domestics states that there is a private collection of artifacts and viscera sourced from heretics that he stores in that unsettling set of chambers. None have seen it, however...and if they have, they aren't breathing a word about it to anyone else.
  • The Kaiser is a great supporter of the arts, which might not be immediately obvious from his sober appearance. Nevertheless, he believes that much of the work produced by the artisans of his nation should be spiritual, uplifting, and edifying to the devout first and foremost.
  • A man of letters, particularly in the theological sense, the Kaiser spends many hours holed up in his study reading the latest religious treatises of doctoral brethren from the Akademie Theologische, the premier spiritual university recently relocated from the library complex of a remote and decrepit monastery to the High Seat of State itself, the capital city Schwertkreuz.
  • Though the High Statists enjoyed a lengthy reign in the country, spreading their hierarchical, rigid ideals throughout every cultural tributary they thoroughly infiltrated, the doctrine is fast on its way to dying out completely. The Kaiser brooks no mercy for those who espouse its irreligious, vainglorious and prideful tenets, considering them arch-heretics of the highest order and deserving of the very worst public executions. He undertakes these himself, sparing the Imperial High Headsman the burden of ending the unholy lives of apostates.
  • Though some might call the Kaiser a hypocrite for allowing veneration of himself when he is completely against the High Statists' positions, he would argue that the difference is in where devoted citizens believe his authority stems from. High Statists believe in a totally human-centered, godless well of authority; however, the righteous souls of the Kaiser's new regime believe that his authority comes from on high, God-granted and apt to be taken away if ever he should lose divine favor. Such is the rightful way of things, the Kaiser has decreed. Not that it will EVER be removed from him, of course.
  • In spite of his fervent faith, the Kaiser remains a paranoid man. Ergo, he employs not only a food taster, but also checks his meals himself with a thermometer-like, highly-advanced device personally developed for him by the brightest minds of the Mechanikergilde - on pain of their bloody, brutal deaths in the Leichenplatz if they failed or created a purposefully harmful invention.
  • Much like his guise of the cloth, this incarnation of Wilhelm also employs a chastity device. It was a crude and painful contraption when he served in the Imperial Army's common ranks, but now it is a gilded and torturous thing of beauty...though he still keeps its existence private and close to his chest.
  • Outright instances of self-harm are rarer for him these days, mostly since he is kept very busy with Imperial concerns. Nevertheless, he marks feast days and rare vacations by retreating to his quiet rural manor house, ostensibly for peaceful "contemplation in nature." His favorite cilice and scourge are his only traveling companions on this journey, aside from a subdued retinue of trusted servantry.