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# System prepended metadata

title: The Memoirs of the French King

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# The Memoirs of the French King
## Fall of 1637 - A fateful letter

A peaceful, orange-red sky made the high windows of the royal palace in Paris look like beautiful oil paintings. They reminded the King of how he rode into Milan, Florence, and all the other majestic cities of Italy. How impressed he had been with all the art and culture displayed there. However, he also remembered all the destruction and death his Italian Wars had caused. He wanted to rebuild it, to make what was once grand even grander, to make Italy even more magnificent than it has ever been. But, for the last several hours, something else has been occupying his thoughts.

*"Where is the letter?"*

He was anxious. He wanted to know. 

*"What is going on in the War against the Ruthenians?"*

A previous letter had told him that the initial push into Hungary was a great success, that took the undermanned Ruthenian garrisons by surprise. The cities of Pest, Prashev and Trencin were quickly taken. His ace general, "Tomas Jägerhorn" from Sweden even wrote that further victories would be assured and that they would advance into Nowy Sacz, Poland the next day.

*"But why have I not gotten any news of the battle yet?"*

He gazed out of the window into the sunset, his face melancholic, one hand clasping the other, looking like a character from a greek tragedy who just became aware of his terrible fate.

*"The Kingdom of Ruthenia, Tsar Ivan I...My oldest friend, my rival, my enemy.
Maybe the last face I'll ever see?"*

*"What if he stood victorious in battle? Has he already pushed back against my armies? Maybe he is breaking through my front lines and rushing west?"*

*"Is that why?"*

The King is leaning back on his throne, trying to calm himself of fearful thoughts.

*"No, that can't be. Despite it's size, Ruthenia is quite poor and the King can't afford to fight for an extended amount of time. Yet, I can't help but be concerned."*

Now he looked up at the ornamented ceiling, his gaze focused on the golden cross embedded on it.

*"My dear soldiers...General Jägerhorn...I pray for your success!"*

---

*"Holy shit!"*, General Jägerhorn screamed, *"Not even God can save us from this slaughter!"*
He jumped into a nearby trench, only nearly escaping a volley of Ruthenian cannonfire. Blood, dirt, and screams of pain were spraying all throughout the battlefield.

*"What should we do, Sir?"*, one out of a group of frightened soldiers asked him, *"They've spread our army into many smaller groups and are picking us off one by one!"*

*"Don't worry, my fellow soldiers, I have a plan."*, Jägerhorn said, quickly pulling himself together.

He continued: *"The Ruthenians can't sustain this offensive for long. They have way more troops than the king could possibly afford."*

Now, musket smoke started to cloud the air. Loud screams of "*merde!*" reached their ears.

*"So, what should we do?"*, another soldier asked.

*"Our current objective,"*, Jägerhorn explained, while pointing at the group of soldiers, *"Is to survive. If we just live to see another day, their state ressources will run out and they will have to disband their army or face mutiny. Once that happenes, we have won."*

The soldiers gave each other confused looks, not understanding the General's logic.

*"Anyways, can you hand me a scroll of paper and a pen?"*, he asked a soldier carrying a bag of supplies.

---

Soon, a letter arrived at the royal palace:

*"Your Majesty, Emperor The Ultimate Zoomer I de Bar, Gods highest servant, Caesar of Rome, King of all France, King of Castile, of Aragon, of Portugal, of Leon, of Asturias, of Galicia, of northern Andalusia and truly, of all Spain, King of all Italy and Suezerain of the Bishopric of Rome, Duke of Wallonia, of Baden, of Swabia, of Bavaria and Austria and rightful King of the Germans, Savior of the Balkans and all its peoples, liege of the Duchy of Sweden and of the Duchy of Brunswick, Protector of the Orthodox Faith and all its followers, and ruler of all the things (I am running out of ink),*

*Rest assured, all is going well.*

*Yours, truly
General Tomas Jägerhorn"*