CONTENT WARNING : A few (censored) slurs in the first paragraph. Unnecessary gore in the 5th paragraph.

For decades, he had slumbered. But he was no longer content with remaining inside the comfort of Holyrood Palace. The hatred compelled him to act, finally. The hatred had consumed him for as long as he could remember. Hatred for the kr**ts ; the fr*gs ; the w*ps ; the n****rs ; the ch*nks ; the fl*ps ; the *b*s ; the b**n*rs ; the s*pp*s ; the k*k*s, the p*k*s, the t*ff**s, the p*dd**s, he hated them all, and above all, the fucking Sc*tch. The passion burned his heart and never left him. It fed him, it nurtured and warmed his cold, blue blood.

He was Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, "Consort" of the Queen of the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland. He barely remembered her anymore, or how they had come to be separated. All he remembered was the fire, the orange crate, the hatred, above all the hatred. After the blazing inferno had razed most of Scotland, upgrading it to a barren wasteland, the people of Edinburgh had looked to their Duke for guidance. They had hoped to continue in the old British tradition of enlightened, parliamentary monarchy. But that was not Philip's way. Philip opposed the newfangled idea of democracy and Parliament. He would use the Magna Carta to wipe his arse, and the Bill of Rights to clean the last drop of piss off his cock. He was Philip of Glücksburg, grandson of the King of Greece and great-grandson of the King of Denmark, descended from a variety of Grand Dukes and Kings and Emperors and Tsars, each more inbred than the last, and he would have his way, damn it.

He would be a great ruler ; a Greek sovereign, dispensing laws in the model of Drakon ; descended from the Tsars, he would be a worthy successor of Ivan the Terrible ; great-grandson of the King of Denmark, he would deal with his adversaries with Viking ferocity. But his favourite ruler, of whom he could unfortunately not claim descent, was certainly Vlad the Impaler, a courageous man defending his country from change one oversized skewer at a time. Philip undertook to study his spiritual master, and the voices helped him. The voice of rage, the voice of hatred, the voice of sadism ; they all egged him on as he learnt to perfect his impalement technique, improving the speed, inserting with surgical precision for the greatest pain and the longest suffering.

But for all his regal splendour and endless energy, he could not embark on this task alone. From the ranks of the mutilated he would pick out an army of the mutilators ; the bravest, those who had the burning courage inside of them to dispense his justice. He spared them from impalement and they swore endless loyalty to him ; and indeed, their fealty was unswerving and knew no bounds ; there was nothing they would not do for their great Duke. They would embark in a campaign of justice, though some would call it terror ; the traitors and the criminals would be punished and they would serve an example to all the dogs who had a similar evil in their hearts.

He remembered the first time he had slain a traitor. Sometimes he thought it might have been mixed with the memories of all the other times, but truth be told, he barely remembered many of them anymore, jaded by the hatred. Now he need more and more to get his fill. But other times, he could remember the first blood clearly. That was when the voices had taken over. It had been a young lad. He couldn't quite remember the name. David was all he could think of, maybe it had been Dafydd. It was a few years after the bombs had dropped. The dust had settled and Philip was in the early years, perhaps the early days of his reign. The boy was perhaps seventeen, maybe older, maybe younger. He was an impudent brat, disrespectful and irreverent. Philip remembered an insult and then he remembered that hatred had taken over. Soon after, hatred passed the reins over to rage, and then to sadism. First he had David locked up in a cell for some days. The boy asked for drink ; he was dipped in a boiling cauldron. When it seemed the lad would not take it any longer, Philip pulled him out. The boy yelled and Philip shut him up. But after he had taken the tongue he realised the picture was not complete as long as his eyes could still cry out in pain. And so the eyes went, in the Byzantine fashion. Grandfather would be proud, claimed the voices. Then came the wheel. The wheel was boring and Philip moved on. He didn't like David's face and he began carving away at it until he did. The skin tasted good. He would have more of it. The boy would be red to match his eyes. This was fashionable, Philip decided. The lad was a redcoat now. But something still bugged him. Davydd had been an angel. But he had no wings ; it was time to make wings. Then sadism came up with a plan. Philip took a small axe to the back of the ribcage. He pulled out the lungs over the boy's shoulders. Now there were wings. He was proud of his work. He placed the lad on a pole and displayed him. He had been a good bit of fun, Philip thought, though maybe one day his mother might miss him. Since then, Philip had trusted the voices ; they told the truth.

Philip had manged to preserve the sanctity and independence of his domain from repeated attempts at intrusion by Sc*tch traitors. He ruled with an iron fist ; the rights in his Duchy were many, and they all belonged to him, from jus primae noctis to the right to imprison without trial. He provided for the welfare of his people ; to increase crop yields, he kidnapped foreigners and watered the fields with their impure blood. And he protected Edinburgh, cordially meeting with each Sc*tch mission and inviting them to free rides on Edinburgh's greatest attraction, the pain train.

And now the hatred told him it was time to end the isolation of Edinburgh. To reveal himself to the world, to no longer remain contented with mere raids and the occasional mass impalement. It was time for all to know the power of the blood of Glückburg. Detecting a new Sc*tch intrusion, he moved quickly to secure a buffer. Iron will and night marches allowed him to cover much ground in little time, and he was soon able to expand his domain. But he found that the bastards from the North had surrounded him. The only way out would be through them. And he was not yet strong enough, his disciples not quite sufficient in number. But his time would come, and it would come soon. Time was something he possessed in abundance. As long as he moved carefully, he could not be stopped.

But he recognised that even he could not rule by stick alone. Carrots would have to be provided to swell his ranks. An army of the damned was a mighty army indeed, but only the strongest could survive the pains he inflicted, and that was perhaps a bar that was set too high for many of his subjects. He decided it was time to bring back the Duke of Edinburgh awards.

Now, he was no longer constrained by the nanny state or political correctness, which had gone quite insane over the course of his lifetime ; at last, he was free ; and whereas before the Duke of Edinburgh award had pandered to effete, weak, modern values, which ran contrary to everything he truly believed in, his new award would focus on the qualities that really mattered to him, and to the voices. He would encourage craftiness, brutality, hatred, strength, hatred, courage, hatred, always the hatred. Those that were worthy would join his ranks. Those that were not would become cannon fodder.

And to ensure his own survival, and the continuation of his rule, he would watch after himself. He would bathe in the blood of virgins ; he would ensure a plentiful stock of soil-filled coffins ; he would ensure no church was sanctified, not under his watch. There would be no garlic and no crosses. And thus he would continue to prolong his life, and the hatred, until the bitter end.

1AP on Duke of Edinburgh award

1 : The hatred consumes Philip's army of the damned. He must fight alone.

2-3 : No souls are strong enough to join the army of the damned. Habitability decrease in every province. Philip's army : 2.000 tier 4 warriors.

4-6 : The ranks of the damned grow. Their fierceness and their loyalty shall pay dividends on the battlefield. Philip's army : 3.710 tier 4 warriors.

7-14 : Philip's charisma attracts hordes of incapable simpletons ready to service his every whim. They are morons, however, and not fit to serve in the same capacity as the damned. Philip's army : 3.710 tier 4 warriors and 3.710 tier 1 warriors.

15-17 : Even more cannon fodder flocks to the banner of Edinburgh. Philip's army : 3.710 tier 4 warriors, 3.710 tier 2 warriors, 3.710 tier 1 warriors.

18-19 : Under Philip's guidance, the damned shall never surrender and each shall fight with the strength and valour of ten lions. Philip's army : 3.710 tier 5 warriors, 3.710 tier 3 warriors, 3.710 tier 2 warriors.

20 : Their souls torn apart and strengthened by centuries of congenital alcoholism and rage, the Scotsmen are an endless pool of unfeeling berserkers, from which Philip may freely draw to supplement the army of the damned. Philip's army : 7.410 tier 5 warriors. Gains 1 AP.

1AP on replenishing Philip's strength

1 : Philip is greatly weakened, the hatred must find a new host.

2-3 : The voices confuse him. He does not have the strength he needs to carry on. Philip becomes a tier 1 general.

4-6 : The regimen is useless. He will have to try again. Habitability decrease in every province, gains 1 AP. Philip becomes (stays?) a tier 2 general with "Ambusher" trait.

7-14 : Philip is strengthened. Philip becomes a tier 3 general, with "Ambusher" and "Fearsome" traits.

15-17 : He has never felt stronger. Philip becomes a tier 4 general, with "Ambusher", "Fearsome", and "Speedy" traits.

18-19 : The Duchy of Edinburgh will reign a thousand years. Philip becomes a tier 5 general, with "Ambusher", "Fearsome", "Speedy", and "Unyielding" traits.

20 : "Ανακατακτηση", the voices murmur ; rage, hatred, bloodlust, all in unison. He will take back what was his. He is no longer merely content with Edinburgh, to rule over mere dozens of thousands no longer interests him, and the flesh of Scottish tramps no longer satisfies him. He will retake everything : his lands, his titles, his wife. Philip becomes a tier 6 general with "Ambusher", "Fearsome", "Speedy", "Unyielding", and "Inspiring Charger" traits. Gains 1 AP.