The Emperor, the King, and the Gunner, 1st Omnibus

This is the first collection of short stories written by Emperors Potato. They contain stories about Potatocis, David Mcfife, and a Carolignian soldier named Tyr.

### Story 1, Shattered Emperor

Potatocis sat on his throne alone in the gold halls of his labyrinthine palace. This was supposed to be one of his few moments of peace, but his haunted mind allowed him none. He had his head in his hands, and his mind was racing. His entire body showed his deep sadness and egret at this moment. A portal appeared in front of him. Our stepped another Potatocis.

“One of those Nights?” The other Potatocis said. “Indeed...i haven’t gotten any sleep in weeks.” Responded Potatocis, he looked up. His faces had bagged eyes and was tired. “The things I do for these people. I doubt there even to grateful.” He continued. The other Potatocis looked thoughtful.

“It is rare they ever do. We are unique my friend, they see us as superhuman savior for the most of the time...but the human mind soon twists adoration to jealousy.” The Other Potatocis said. “I wish I had help. I wish somebody could help me get over this. Recovering Council from myself seems to cause more pain then anything.” Potatocis says.

“At least your not like Potatocis 342. He ended up dead. Yo-“ the other Potatocis was cut off. “I would gladly take his place! When he died he was celebrated, he is seen as one of the greatest. I’ve never been able to do as much as fall in love I’ve been so dedicated to keeping this republic running! And what do I get but slander and mental diseases? Why can’t it be as simple as war.” “I tried to get out of it. I planned to journey to another reality. Suzania or something. But guess what, I failed! Now I’m alone ranting to another version of myself. What is wrong with me?” Potatocis said.

The other simply shrugged. “Life isn’t that simple for us. Only in death can duty end, only in heaven we may rest. Though...it could be seen as our curse that we may never get to see it.” The other finished. “What is my reward? What do I get from all this? Nobodies even able to be my friend! What’s the point of this? Why must this go on forever?” Potatocis replied, near hysterics. “No fancy marches or banners or organization or battle can fix the fact that I will be stuck like this forever!”

For the first time in many years someone was brave enough to slap him. The other Potatocis matched up the golden throne, and slapped him straight across the face. This caused Potatocis to throw a punch, but it was caught. “Stop whining! You are a son of the Emperor, you disgrace his throne with your tears. It matters not how you feel, for the galaxy didn’t care. Neither do your people. What matters is you make it better for them. So they can enjoy there lives. You would do well to remember that!” The other Potatocis was increasingly mad.

Potatocis looked at him with sad eyes and put his head back in his hands. “Your not wrong. Forgive me brother, I should try for some rest.” He said. The other walked into a. Portal and left. Potatocis walked to his room, and tried to sleep. He failed. Sleep is rare for the Imperator.

### Story 2, Hammer Fall

Dundias Maximus died in the second battle of Blackstone Pass, accompanied by the soon to be king David Mcfife. This battle was supposed to be the beginning of a Great War into the waste lands but failed before ever entering it. Not a man survived save David Mcfife.

David Mcfife was on the rough fields of Blackstone Pass, he was gripping his axe tightly with eagerness as a large Orc charged him. However before it could get there, a friend of his form Dundias guard impaled it from behind, blood splattering all over his arm. “David! Where’s the king?” He said. It was one o David’s friends, Rikter.

“To the left. I’m going there myself, got caught up fighting thee orcs.” David replied. Explosions from magic rocked the field, along with a growing amount of human screams. He stepped on a corpse. “Then we’d better hurry!” Rikter said, running to the left. They had to cut down many Orcs to get there.

“FOR FIFE!” Dundias cries shook the field as he fought the biggest Orcs around. He fought like a god of war, and sundered the orcs who dared attack home rich the night of his hammer. But he was surrounded, barely holding on atop a hill. “For the King!” Rikter charged, and attempted to reach Dundias.

David could only watch on in horror as Rikter had three Orcs leap apon Him and brutally stab him to death. This caused Dundias to lol to the screams of his friends, but this look was fatal. Before David’s eyes Dundias was stabbed right next to his heart, through his back. They both gave a yell.

David saw the mighty honor hammer fall to the ground. He rushed up the hill, killing all the Orcs in his way in a guy. He heard a wizard mutter something before being cut down, and he was imbued with new found strength. He lifted the body of Dundias, threw down his axe and picked up the Honorhammer. Carrying the corpse on his back he ran for the first time in his life, and though it couldn’t be seen on his scarred face he cried.

The remaining Fife soldiers surrounded him, The last wizards opening a portal. He jumped in and was teleported a safe distance away, Dundias in hand. Every man who had defended them there was dead.

“My king! It can’t be true...you can’t be dying...” He was on his knees with Dundias in hand. Dundias could barely respond. A traveling healer saw him there. “Healer! It’s the king! Help me!” The healer hurried over and tried to heal he king. “He’s stabilized for now. But it won’t last. He is doomed to die.” The healer said solemnly.

David carries Dundias all the way back to Dundee, and he stood next to Dundias in his death bed. “David...” Dundias mumbled. “Yes my liege?” David replies. Dundias made a symbol and a gaurs handed David the Honorhammer. “Take it! You shall be king.” These last words were his last breadths, his shaky voice stopped abruptly. The king was dead. “I swear, I will avenge you.” David whispered to himself. He gripped his hammer tightly in anticipation.

### Story 3, The Carolignians Prayer

“Blessed Ulhiem. I beseech you for victory in this battle. Surely we have no hope of victory, but I beg you to defend your chosen people, that we might say we fight with god on our side. Please, help fort Hakfëld survive the night. For if we do not the night of our enemies may finally overpower is, and the name of the 1st legion be disgraced.”

A young Carolignian said that, his 1st legion colors dirtied from his kneeling. He was not the only one. The entire defensive force of fort Hakfëld prayed for salvation. “Right men! Ready your weapons!” The commander called. The young Carolean, Tyr, obeyed.

Tyr stood guard with his rifle apon the walls, and saw the massive army come forth to them. “Till you see the white in there eyes!” The leader called once again. This was a standard command so they would not waste ammo. Tyr was sweating, and despite his first legion markings he was scared. The endless pound of enemy boots in the snow was maddening, and they saw catapults roll up.

Every Carolean there expected death. A song began to be heard among the men, “Carolean March.” Made back when they were victorious. Tyr joined. “To arms facing the lead. An army on mead, doing gods deeds, showing no fear, judgment is near, making there...it was cut off by the first catapult. And they began to shoot.

Tyr shot again and again but they neared the walls with seemingly endless numbers. He remembered the words of the king, “Wait, I shall soon come.” Where was there king now? They thoughts accounted his mind along with the rhythmless thump of guns.

They climbed the walls! Swordsmen soon stood in front of the brave gunners, the the gunners moved to clear walls. Tyr ran, but stopped apon hearing the blow of a horn. He turned. Armored Cavalry thundered down a hill, led by a man gladly bearing the Caroleans flag. Carolus Rex has arrived. And they sundered the for.

Tyr cheered, and he wasn’t the only one. Carolus crushes the enemy beneath his knight Spears! And they began to crumble. Perhaps the fort was safe. “Ulhiem! Ulhiem!” A chant started by the king himself broke out amosngt the defenders. Tyr almost cried with joy. The enemy was clearly broken.

“Can it be true...” a soldier next to him said. “Indeed it is. Under are king, we can do anything. Long lie Carolus!” Tyr replied. His heart grinned, his home was saved. Hakfëld would survive another day. If only this was the end of the war he thought, many long years lay ahead of him.