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Treasures of the Commonwealth

ManBear

Moderator
GA Member
May 22, 2020
1,495
Bobolice-new.jpg

Through the window of the helicopter one could see the landscape of the boreal forests of Poland passing by quickly as the aircraft moved at alarming speed. The greens of the vegetation were too much of a blur to identify clearly before the sudden banking of the helicopter, and subsequent slowing, revealed the white stone and lone tower of a castle sat in disrepair.

“What you see on your screens is a common sight within Poland. Ancient history left in disrepair after the many troubles that plagued our nation throughout the years. Many medieval castles such as this have sat in disrepair for many years, often hiding history and legacies never before seen. But ours story today starts some forty kilometers to the east and sits on the Vistula River.”

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The scene would seamlessly change to scene taken from the ground with an middle-aged man standing in front of a crowd of tourists taking pictures in front of a red bricked castle.

“My name is ZlasiłAw Skrok and I am currently standing outside of the historic Wawel Castle located on the banks of the Vistula River in Krakow, Poland. Built in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries by Polish kings starting with King Casimir the third, it has undergone many renovations and features architectural styles from the the renaissance , baroque, and medieval eras. It even features an Italian style courtyard. Now, this may not mean much to most of you but it means a great deal to Archaeologists such as myself who strive to understand ancient architecture and culture. Now we have received special permission from the Polish Government to go inside what was known as the vault.”

The screen would go black before revealing the same middle-aged man standing under a series of brick and mortar arches illuminated by hanging lights

“Now before the end of the 18th century these series of room and partitions held the greatest treasures of Poland known as the Crown Jewels of Poland. Everything from the regalia of Augustus the third to crown of Boleslaw the First the Brave. At the end of the 18th century tragedy befell the castle by the hands of the Prussian army who garrisoned within the walls. Under orders of Frederick William the Third, all of the Crown Jewels were ordered to be removed from Wawel Castle and remanded to Berlin where they were ultimately melted down to mint new coins.”

The camera would follow the man through the vaults as he spoke, pointed to various pieces of architecture and various copies of regalia that had been created throughout the years to replace the stolen ones.

“That is until we discovered secret correspondence that would seem to illuminate subterfuge and a need to break the will of the Polish People.”

The screen would fade to black before opening back up to the same man wearing white gloves holding a particularly fragile piece of parchment with words written with fluid design upon it.

“This letter rumored to be written under a code name from Frederick William dictates that these historic artifacts were actually hidden in an attempt to place a man on the thrown that had the support of the Prussians.”

A voiceover would read the legible parts of the letter as the screen changes to show a close-up still of the letter.

“On the next episode we will be investigating these claims in the hope of returning these lost historical artifacts to their rightful home here in Wawel Castle vaults.”
 
Last edited:

ManBear

Moderator
GA Member
May 22, 2020
1,495
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"On today's episode of Treasures of the Commonwealth we find ourselves inside the Chojnik Castle where a small team of archaeologists have uncovered something extraordinary that we did not think possible."

The man would be standing over a group of young adults wearing coveralls and hardhats as they sifted through dirt found along the ground of the now decrepit keep. Beside them lay a pile of clay shards, metal buttons, and other miscellaneous objects that might have been of importance at one time. But the true gem of the collection was the deep blue gem the size of a grape held in the presenter's hand. Mottled with bits of dried dirt and clay, the gem looks completely out of place with the rest of the collection of goods recovered from the ancient castle.

"Discovered recently among a collection of artifacts unearthed by these intrepid explorers is this simple sapphire. While entirely uncommon within Poland itself, it is not unrelated to why we are here today. Combined with the collection of artifacts of lives previously lived on this location, this sapphire shows that what we were searching for can possibly be found. With buttons that were popular with Prussian military uniforms and clay jugs of now ruined wine, we found this peculiar sapphire that has no good reason to be here except this castle is on a suspected route the Prussians took in returning the loot stolen from Wawel Royal Castle in 1796. This small blue gemstone of immaculate color is just another clue as to where the lost crown jewels truly lie. And with his gemstone we can guess as to which route the Prussians took from this location, which they probably used as shelter during the multi-week journey they undertook getting to and from Wawel castle back to wherever it was they took the crown jewels. And that's where we are off to next."

The man would hand the gemstone back to the lead archaeologist, a man of similar age who shook the man's hand and said some words silently before the picture would fade to black and when it came back on, would show the man sitting on the edge of a bridge over a river wearing a neoprene diving suit.

"We believe that the Prussian convoy would have crossed this location, an ancient site for a bridge whos remains can still be found at the bottom of the silt lined river bed. We can often find remnants of organic matter on the bottom of river beds and the acidity of the soil underneath the water is high enough that we are hopeful of finding some sort of clue that will lead us on our way."

The camera would change to a underwater scene through dark water as a man swam through the dark colored river, using a fanning motion with his hand. The video would continue with various cuts in the film taken at various times. Before the camera would pick up the audio from an excited yell of someone who found something or had something find him in the dark waters.

"After four days of searching near zero visibility water we found what we believe to be a crashed wagon resting on the riverbed. Now this may not have anything to do with the current case we are on, we are hopeful. With the unique quality this river has, we are hopeful that a lot of organic matter would still be with the wagon. Anything such as clothing, metal objects, or even bones would help identify who these people were based on various factors of bone health. And for that, we will be bringing in an expert team of hydroarchaelogists and construction equipment to carefully excavate the area and remove any artifacts. Be assure, any human remains will receive a proper burial once they have been identified."
 

ManBear

Moderator
GA Member
May 22, 2020
1,495
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"The samples we found during our previous episode have finally finished their chemical and genetic testing and it shows a large portion of the skeletal remains we found were from the genetic population often found in Prussia. Carbon dating from artifacts and bones shows that this crash site is indeed from around the time of the theft of the Polish artifacts by the Prussians which further leads us to believe this site was once apart of the convoy that transferred the historical artifacts from Wawel Castle to wherever they now rest. A few of the metallic objects we found have been confirmed as being gold coins and weapons from Poland during the same time and we can only suspect them as looted items from the Royal Armory and the treasury."

The man would be standing within a laboratory setting, wearing the white plastic coverall that scientists in the background were wearing. As he spoke he would finger a few of the artifacts on the padded table using a gloved finger, to keep from contaminating the evidence of the worst theft in Polish history. As he spoke about each object he would point to the artifact the the second camera would show close-up footage of the artifact.

The camera would eventually change to a man seated in front of several bookcases and his name and title would appear in the lower left of the screen. Dr Kominski of the University of Warsaw, Archaelogy. On this screen the man would talk at length about the various ways him and his team examined the artifacts and what procedures and equipment they used to test the historic objects to better determine their origin.




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"Today we find ourselves in the central of Poland near the village of Ruda Komorska. A small agricultural village with a long history and thought to be one of the points of rest for the Prussians as they travelled across the country carrying the artifacts looted from Wawel Castle. Many of the families here have been here since the founding of the village and many tell the story of a wagon carrying endless treasures. At the time, long before news could travel instantaneously, they figured they were holy relics from the Holy Land, even claiming them to be akin to the holy grail. Of course, many modern scholars refute these claims but our job is to leave no turn left unturned as we search for the Regalia of Poland."

The next half hour of the show would follow the man as he spoke to various villagers about the story of the holy treasure. He would speak to each member of the village until finally he began speaking to the elderly patron of the church. Claiming to be the oldest person in the village, during the two hour conversation that had been compressed down to a twenty-five minute segment the many would speak at length about the story his great-great grandfather would tell of a man who spoke German drunkenly claiming to have the sword that chipped the gate of Kiev. The man's great-great grandfather refused to believe the story as the sword rested below Wawel Castle in the royal treasury. Eventually, the elderly Polish gentleman would produce a rusting flintlock rifle that still bore the makers mark that put it being made in Potsdam Arsenal. After carefully handling the still functional musket, the host gleaned information from the story that the wagon train was heading towards the Tatra Mountains in western Poland.
 

ManBear

Moderator
GA Member
May 22, 2020
1,495
"On today's episode of Treasures of the Commonwealth, we find ourselves at the largest private collection of correspondence and governmental documents from the Kingdom of Prussia. The owner of the collection reached out to the studio to let us know that they had found something truly miraculous. Something that could shed some light on the ongoing mystery that we are investigating. The mystery that has perplexed every polish citizen since the theft occurred. What exactly happened to the Polish Regalia after the Prussians stole it. Most claim they were melted down to fund the Prussian Kingdom's wars and maritime trade but those of us that have been on this trail believe they never reached Berlin and the melting process was done as a cover-up for an unimaginable blunder. We can only hope to find their final resting place."

The scene would continue playing, showing an elderly man showing and talking about various pieces and letters he had collected over his long life until finally he got to the most important part. A letter thought to have been penned by the King of Prussia himself.

"If my German isn't as rusty as I think it is, this letter was apparently sent directly from King Frederick William II to the Secret Councilor Anton Ludwig Von Hoym chastising him for the mishandling of the furnishings of the Polish Kings. The date on the letter places it having been sent a year after the disappearance of the Regalia. Not a single Prussian soldier tasked with the transport of the Regalia had been seen since it departed from Wawel Royal Castle nor any shred of evidence had been brought to the King by his investigators. The letter continues on to inform the Secret Councilor that he was being recalled back to Prussia due to his failures. This is a major stepping stone in our search for the missing Regalia. If it had never made it to Prussia, then there is zero possibility that they had been melted down. This is truly exciting for us and for you viewers joining us today. This could mean there was still a chance to find the Regalia and return them to their resting place within Wawel Royal Castle. That is, if we can discover what truly happened to them. At this point we are no closer to finding the Regalia as we do not know what befell the team transporting the Regalia or if they had just chosen to run off with them to start a new life somewhere the Prussians could reach them."




Tatra-Mountains-Base-Camp.jpg

After a scheduled commercial break the show would begin again showing a majestic scene of the rocky Tatra Mountains in the background while a burgeoning expedition camp was forming at the base of the mountain.

"We have received special permission from the Tatra Mountain Society to establish a basecamp here in preparation for our exploring of the Tatra Mountains for evidence of the Prussia forces carrying the missing Polish Regalia. March is a dangerous time for climbing the Tatra Mountains due to the risk of avalanches and sudden storms appearing within the dense mountain passes. It's why the studio has gone to great lengths to hire the best guides and explorers of the Tatra Mountains that were available. Between the dozen or so guides and the dozen or so parties we have formed, we feel we are getting close to truly getting answers to one of the greatest mysteries of Poland and the old Commonwealth."
 

ManBear

Moderator
GA Member
May 22, 2020
1,495
Our tale ends within the heart of the Tatra Mountains where the wind that blows through its valleys and crevices speak of ancient tales in a long forgotten language and the trees stood as silent witnesses to the history that unfolded there. The stories that these mountains could tell were they to have the ability to speak would turn the study of history on its head. And it is amongst these crevices and ravines that we find ourselves in the later 18th century.




“We have to find cover soon, herr Oberst. The storm is coming and we must find shelter from the elements.”

The young Seconde-Lieutenant who wore the dark blue of a Prussian army soldier though he wore adornments that led his inferiors to understand that he was also a nobleman by birth. The Oberst, however, wore no such adornments on his uniform save for the many medals he had received during his tenure in the Holy Prussian Army.

“Nein, mein freund. Our orders are to cross Schneeberg so that we can safely deliver our spoils to the Emperor. Do you think our pursuers are waiting out the storm below? Nein. They are following us. To think, proud Prussian soldiers being dogged by Hussars. We cannot let them get their hands on the spoilers and return them.”

The men were grumbling as the Prussian Oberst spoke. They were not happy about scaling the mountains in June. Especially as the deep snow the mountains were known for still covered the ground, deeper than a man was tall in some places. They had already lost a dozen horses and a supply wagon to the snow drifts. Personal belongings had to be abandoned on the trail, allowing their frenzied pursuers to keep their trail, even through the deepening snow.

They continued this harrowing journey through the snow-filled valleys and crevices until they heard a deafening crack and then the thundering of a thousand horses coming at them. Men raised rifles and pulled sabers from their scabbards as they all looked around for the impending Hussar charge but they saw nothing through the blinding blizzard that assailed their senses. Their wait for the cavalry charge was over as soon as it had begun as the wall of snow swept through their lines like the Hussar cavalry charge in Vienna. Men, horses, and wagons flowed through the snow, down the side of the mountain, until they finally stopped. An avalanche. Something from their worst nightmare. A leviathan of white and filled with ice. All that remained of the Prussian detachment ascending the mountain were a dozen men and two covered wagons that had made their way into a nearby cave after the sound for formations sounded. The men were simple drivers and not professional soldiers save for the Seconde-Lieutenant who had tried to save the men from such a perilous journey. Drafted from the Prussian citizenry to drive their wagon train into Poland and then back to the Emperor with his spoils. They had no strong allegiance to the Emperor or Prussia save for the promise of their freedom and coin to start afresh.

‘Two weeks. That is how long our supplies lasted trapped in this blasted cave. One week of hope that we would be saved by our compatriots. One week of hoping we could dig our way out of the snow. Three days of moving rubble from the rocks blocking the entrance, having been placed there by the avalanche. Now I find myself alone. The last Prussian man alive. The last Prussian creature alive. The oxen were the first to go after our meager supplies ran out. Then my faithful horse, that had survived a dozen charges into battle. Even if we had been able to make it out, the spoils would remain here as we dismantled the wagons for firewood. That lasted a week. The men insisted on bonfires the first few nights and there was nothing I could do to convince them of the folly of such an exercise. My stomach pains more than I thought possible and I find myself no longer shivering. The mounds of clothes from my countrymen must be doing a better job than those fires. Should this be my last entry I wish to tell my wife Katarina that I love her and to ensure our son does not follow in my footsteps. Tell him to become a scholar. With the only danger being a papercut, I wish him to live a long life. Should you find my remains in this cave, I place in your charge of recovering these artifacts and returning them to the Poles lest this curse placed upon my countrymen continue along with my bloodline. I shall write more in what I suspect to be the morning. I can no longer tell the time of day but I grow tired and this headache has plagued me for days. For now I rest.

Signed with Love,

Seconde-Lieutenant Karl Hoffman’

The rocky crevasse where the young Seconde-Lieutenant slipped peacefully into the embrace of Death would not speak of such a transaction for centuries. The secret pact they had made with the Reaper of Souls had been made in secrecy and they had abided to keep it a secret for over two centuries before they could not contain their secret any longer.




As the screen would filter past the title screen showing the specially designed special episode title along with the title of the show, ‘Treasures of the Commonwealth’, it would reveal the man sitting across from the monarch of Poland, King Stanislaus Grabowski, along with his wife, Queen Zofia Grabowska.

“Your Majesty, I would like to first thank you for agreeing to be apart of this very important and special episode that shows the culmination of nearly a year’s worth of exploring the Polish countryside for what many experts agree to be the most tragic heist in Poland’s history. With the theft of the Polish Regalia by the Prussian forces in the late 1700’s, we found Poland to be cursed to be partitioned repeatedly but today, I wanted you to be the first to see the footage and give us an honest reaction to what you see. Then, I have a very special gift for you from myself and the production team that risked life and limb to figure out what happened.”

“Thank you, Doctor Skrok. It is a pleasure to be here and I must say that I have been eagerly watching every new episode that has come out with my wife, given the opportunity. And, honestly, I was incredibly surprised that you asked me to participate in the season finale. I am truly humbled by what you are doing and I am sure the Polish people can agree with me when I say that I am incredibly excited to witness what you may or may not have uncovered in the season finale.”

The two men would shake hands while beaming with smiles before Dr Skrok would turn towards the camera and point to the audience.

“Then let’s roll the footage and see what we have uncovered. And I have to say, it will change your perspective on everything you thought you knew on history.”

The screen would fade to black before transitioning to a high definition video of the scenic Tatra Mountains from the view of a helicopter as it flew parallel with them. As the helicopter crew captured video Doctor Zlasiław Skrok would perform a voiceover of the recording.

“On today’s episode of Treasures of the Commonwealth we find ourselves exploring the often treacherous Tatra Mountains. The region we will be focusing on this special extended episode that will serve as the season finale is known as Rysy Peak and occupies what is known as the High Tatras. It is the highest peak in Poland, though not in the Carpathian mountain range that the Tatra mountains is considered to be a part of.”

The screen would once again transition to a camp of tents and quick shelters set up at the base of the mountain range where one could see a snow packed trail leading further into the mountains. The sea of tents would serve as a base camp for the multi-day expedition into the mountain passes in search of information regarding the missing Polish Regalia. The camera would zoom in on a group of ten individuals who were wearing brightly colored clothing, backpacks, and climbing equipment. These ten trudging figures, with their brightly colored gear, would create a clashing imprint on the solid white snow and ice that comprised the snowed in passes and landscape of the mountains. One man, which would later be identified as Doctor Skrok would turn and wave goodbye to the base camp before a recorded audio, clearly from a handheld radio, played over the video with subtitles appearing on the screen.

“This is Expedition 1 saying goodbye to Basecamp for the next ten days. Hopefully when we return we shall bear good news.”




The next four days of footage comprised of shaky handheld camera footage made up of personal cameras held by the hikers as they made their way through the various mountain passes. Their lead guide, a local Tatar man whose family had lived in the area for many generations, had been contracted to guide them up the mountain to interesting areas that may reveal answers.

On the fourth day, during their bedding down preparations two men could be heard talking in the dark.

“Doctor, I must warn you that if you insist on going up this particular path, you will lose someone. Maybe everyone. It is one of the most dangerous paths up the mountain that its not even been fully mapped. Avalanches and rock slides are common in the area. The other locals call it Death’s Road. Nothing grows there. Nothing lives there. Not even insects. It’s as if the Devil himself refuses to set foot there. Nothing but death awaits us there.”

“I understand that Alex. I really do but you see this helmet. It’s the helmet of a Hussar. From the same time period as the theft of the Polish Regalia. You remember those skeletal remains of the soldiers we found? Polish carbines and Prussian flintlocks in the same area? It must mean something. It can’t just be a coincidence that the people who stole from Poland were found battered to death next to remains of the world’s most famous cavalry. I’m afraid I must insist on this course of action. I will make a video and send it down with Jakub informing the studio that this course of action is mine alone and that the families of anyone who perishes may seek retribution through the courts if they wish. It will save the studio and yourself legal trouble. I will also ask the studio to set up a stipend for your family should something happen to you as well. That way they can continue to live their lives should something happen.”

“Fine, Doctor. I will lead you up The Road but I warn you, Death does not take kindly to trespassers.”

The next two days of footage show the ten men joking around amongst each other as they travel over relatively easy terrain. Playful shoving and jokes were shown on the screens as the days turned to night and bottles of Polish vodka were produced from packs. They were getting close to something and they could feel it in their Polish bones.

Before the third day of footage of The Road was shown, a black screen with the words ‘Viewer Discretion Advised’

Fog filled the lenses of the cameras as they cycled through different viewpoints as the producers showed the extent of the fog. Lines of brightly colored rope disappeared in the fog showing that not even five feet of visibility was possible as the group of adventurers made their way up the mountainside. There were no jokes this time as one camera’s microphone picked up someone saying the prayer to Saint Michael.

Suddenly the silence of the fog was interrupted by the sound of thunder as if thousands of horsemen descended upon them from the sides of the mountain. Everyone was looking for the source of the noise until they heard a german voice shout at them from within the fog.

“Lawine. Geh in die Höhle”

The valley filled with the sound of the mountain’s wrath as the deluge of ice, snow, and rocks barreled its way down the once pristine mountain pass. The echoes of the deafening roar as thousands of pounds of debris rolled down the mountain towards the group of men provided a surround sound effect as the men sprinted towards the voice through the fog. The truly terrifying part of the experience was the sudden silence experienced by the men as they entered into the hidden cave as the snow crashed one final time in front of the entrance. The packed snow served as sound dampening material made their own heavy breathing impossibly loud in the echoing cave.

“Give me a count. Did everyone make it?” It was the voice of the Tatar guide heard earlier.

“Skrok here.”

“Alicja.”

“Filip.”

“Jan”

“Viktor”

“Jerzy”

“Antoni.”

“That makes nine. Hopefully Jakub was able to get into some cover. Maybe he will be able to get us some assistance and we won’t have to wait for long.”

The screen would show the green video of a night vision camera being turned on showing the entry level to the chamber. It showed the ceilings being a few meters above their heads and the rear of the cave was not visible in the darkness from the absence of light in the cave.

The group of adventurers and archaeologists would talk amongst themselves as the sound of packs hitting the solid granite could be heard on the various cameras that had yet to turn on their night vision functionality. Suddenly, just as the darkness enveloped them, the white, artificial light of flashlights would illuminate the cave showing the full expanse of the several hundred foot diameter of the cavern. Several smaller tunnels broke off from the main chamber what stopped everyone was the feminine voice in a hushed tone.

“Oh my god. There’s a dead body.”

A flurry of movement as members of the expedition team ran over to where the body sat undisturbed for what seemed like a dozen years until they realized the clothing he wore. Dark Blue frock coat bearing the Prussian Eagle on the golden buttons and the Seconde-Lieutenant rank on the epaulets.

“He’s a fuckin’ Prussian soldier.”




The screen would change to a single man hurriedly running down the mountain trail he had ventured up over a week prior. His facial hair wore the icicles with pride as he continued his race down the trail and into the basecamp they had called home a mere eleven days ago. As he came into focus from the camera it would show bloody gouges running across his brow and an arm poorly splinted and tied to his torso. Jakub had not found shelter before the roaring storm of debris and snow overtook him and left him for dead.

The footage would cut as the camera operator began running towards the man before cutting back inside of the base camp’s main building. The camera was clearly being hidden as the shaky camera lens was partially hidden by a heavy duty parka.

“Avalanche. Send search and rescue. Doctor Skrok took the group through a pass the guide called the Devil’s Road.”

“Alert the Tatra Search and Rescue teams. Let them know nine hikers have been lost on the mountain after an Avalanche. Tell them we need helicopters, dogs, skis. Everything they have available.”

Screen transitioned once more to show the inside of a helicopter and men wearing uniforms of the Polish Air Force. They were flying low over the craggy rocks as they servailed the possible route the expedition members were supposed to have taken. Local guides explained where the Devil’s Road was located for the flight crews to begin their search. Unfortunately, as they approached the suspected location based off of their travel speed, a large storm rushed in and grounded the aircraft until it blew over. Before the heavy fog set in and limited their visibility, the camera was able to capture the absolute carnage left in the wake of the avalanche. Once where the smattering trees stood were now the twisted trunks and splinters of a hundred year old trees. Massive trunks lay upended in the pale snow as if the wintery death was taunting the experienced pilots of the Search and Rescue force.

“This must have been a massive one, Lieutenant. I’ve never seen this happen before. Those trees have been there since I was a kid but look at them now. It’s as if they were saplings run over by bulldozers.”

“Copy that ATC. Returning to base until this storm passes. It looks like it’s going to be a doozy up there. I hope those guys have some sort of shelter or they won’t last the night. There’s dozens of caves up there that are hidden behind snowdrifts.

The footage would show the helicopter banking into a turn to change their heading back to the base camp so they could wait out the storm. By the time they had begun landing procedures, the sounds of the helicopters engines had been drowned out by the raging winds outside of the cockpit. Once the helicopter was safely landed on the improvised landing pad the pilot could be heard over the radio speaking to no one in particular.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter.”




Two days had passed before the storm had passed sufficiently for the helicopters to take to the air again. And they did without hesitation. The base camp was a flurry of flying snow and wind as the propellers created enough downdraft to create their own flurry of snow and sent the many tents flapping in the wind.

The screen would condense hours of footage to a single ten minute amount of footage showing a single bright blue backpack piercing through the blinding whiteness that was the landscape surrounding it. As the footage played a voiceover of one of the producers would play over the scene.

“Jerzy was the only expedition member wearing a blue backpack, citing it as his lucky color. That particular pack had apparently saved his life during an expedition up the Himalayas. The snow his group was hiking over had been improperly tracked and led directly over a crevasse that gave way as he crossed over it. That battered pack wedged itself between the sheets of granite and held him dangling over the bottomless pit of the crevasse. Apparently his safety line had frayed and wouldn’t have held his weight if it had gone taut from the fall. The Sherpas had said he was the luckiest man they had ever seen and I guess that holds up. That backpack is the only way we knew where to send ground teams. We just had to hope we were in time to save at least some of them.”




The flashing battery light on the camera was showing as they recorded their travel into one of the offshoot tunnels. They had been looking for a way out since they had woken up on the second day. All they had been able to find at that point in time were remnants of wagons and the dead bodies of a dozen men or so. A few of them had wounds that indicated being shot by rifles and a few others had no wounds save for obvious tool marks on the bones and missing limbs. The veteran archaeologists and historians amongst the group immediately knew that the trapped men had resorted to cannibalism to stave off the hunger. But it wasn’t until the fourth day of their imprisonment did they find something truly exciting. Deep in one of the offshoot tunnels they found a trio of chests that when opened, elicited a couple shouts of excitement but the doctor refused to allow the cameras to view what was inside them. They moved the chests carefully towards their campsite so they could inspect the contents more closely.

“It has to be. It matches the description perfectly from records. There is no way it is not what I think it is.”

“I know Alicja. I know. But it won’t matter much until we get out of here. The Search and Rescue teams will have been informed by now by Jakub that there was an avalanche. And don’t give me that bullshit that he could be dead. He’s almost as experienced as Jerzy. Hell, both of them conquered Everest two separate times. Each. He knows what to do in an avalanche. He is getting us help.”

Gegrüßet seist du, Maria, voller Gnade, der Herr ist mit dir. Gesegnet bist du unter den Frauen, und gesegnet ist die Frucht deines Leibes, Jesus. Heilige Maria, Mutter Gottes, bete für uns Sünder jetzt und in der Stunde des Todes. Ehre sei dem Vater, dem Sohn und dem Heiligen Geist.

The camera would suddenly pan around to where the tunnels sat and the preserved remains of the Prussian soldier lay as a slight breeze blew across the microphone.

“Did you hear that Alicja? It sounded like german.”




Men and women wearing brightly colored jackets moved tirelessly through the snow as they made their way up the mountains. The Royal Armed Forces had sent several helicopters to ferry supplies and personnel to the location of the backpack so that the search could begin but they had only been able to complete a few trips before the weather suddenly changed, grounding the aircraft until the storm cleared. They had all been prepared for sudden weather changes but none of them could have comprehended the extent of the sudden blizzards and deep fog that seemed to assault Death’s Valley at a moment’s notice. It was as if the Mountain was telling them the Polish explorers belonged to it now and there was nothing they could do about it.

Four days the rescue teams on foot traveled up the mountain while the crews that had been airlifted to the location lay buried in their tents awaiting for the storm raging outside to lessen so they could begin their search. For four days the airlifted rescue teams listened to the sound of the wind battering their tents. The screeching of the wind reminded many of the sounds a horse makes when it has been injured. The sound could only be described as soul crushing by those who witnessed its ferocity.

On the fourth day the howling of the winds suddenly died down and the rescue teams could see the bright flash of sunlight peeking through the ceiling of their tents. That was when they moved. Digging their way out of the tents, the rescue team would ride to the surface in time to witness the arrival of the ground team, trudging their way through the snow with looks of defeat on their face. Two members of their team had been lost on the way up the mountain, swallowed by Death’s Valley as if they had never existed. But grief could wait. They still had a job to do and the possibility of saving lives instead of lamenting over the lives they knew were snuffed out in the blistering cold. And they did just that. Using picture evidence taken by the helicopter crews of the location of the pack, the teams began working tirelessly to locate the missing exploration team.




“I have something here!” Came a shout over the muffled sounds of snow being tread on. Heads would pop up from where they were at as if they were meerkats in the savanna that had detected a predator. It was soon followed by the crunching of snow as dozens of feet crashed through the fine white powder, trying to get where the original voice had come from. As the first head crested the top of the hole that had been carved through the snow, they gasped. At the bottom of the hole was the rocky ground that was attributed to the Tatra Mountains during the summer months and, partially buried under rubble, a skeleton of a man wearing rusting armor that showed indications of it belonging to a Winged Hussar. But that wasn’t what the man who had shouted was pointing at. They stood at the edge of a collapsed entrance to a cave that stood, having previously been buried under tons of snow, baring its craggy maw at the rescue workers.

“Carefully,” a voice said as they moved rocks from the mouth of the cave. They had made a hole big enough into the cave to feed a hose through that was pumping fresh oxygen into the cave but they had made little headway into actually establishing an entrance into the cave. The heavy granite was difficult to move and the shale that hid underneath threatened to destabilize the entire structure, threatening the lives of the workers and anyone who was inside the cave. A cave in would most likely render their rescue attempts moot and rescue endangering additional personnel outside the cave.




The haggard group of people inside the cave were on the last of their protein bars they had rationed to increase their chances of survival. They were hungry, thirsty, tired, and suffering from hypoxia. Things were certainly tense and several times events nearly boiled over and ended in catastrophe. Luckily, the men and women inside the cave were born survivors, or so they kept telling themselves to keep their morale up.

“I’m telling you doctor. There is someone here with us. I keep hearing someone speak German while we are trying to sleep. I don’t know what they want but they’re taunting us.”

The scientist who spoke looked especially haggard and drawn as he spoke to Doctor ZlasiłAw Skrok. The good doctor who acted as host seemed to have fared better than most of his fellow crew within the cave, but he also knew the secret that he guarded inside the chest. A secret only one other person knew and that person was unable to be awake for more than a few minutes before they passed back out. Hypoxia was taking its toll on everyone inside, and a few fared worse than the others.

“Anton, you’re tired. I know how hard it must be to be the one having to look over Alicja after everything you two have been through. Why don’t you lay down for a while. The air is thinning and it is surely taking its toll on you as it has Alicja. I never would have thought her asthma would be having such a toll on her body but it only makes sense. What is that noise?”




“WE’VE BROKEN THROUGH!” The shout was loud enough to stir the dead as the sound of wind rushing into the cave, filling it with the whispers of anticipated death. Cameras would show six bodies bundled together around a group of chests in the middle of the large cave. “Someone get the medics, it doesn’t look good. I think we were too late.” The large cave was suddenly a flurry of activity as bodies pushed their way into the narrow opening and into the cave. It had been fifteen days since the avalanche trapped the explorers inside the cave and this was the final expectation as they entered the cave. No one could have survived that long inside the cold cave, with no food or water and almost as low oxygen. And yet, as flashlights began pointing at the bundled bodies a singular head of long, auburn hair poked out of a sleeping bag.

“Alicja is alive! Get the medics here NOW!”

“I have Doctor Skrok here. And Doctor Antoni. Both are breathing but their heart rate is low.”

“I have Filip and Viktor over here. They are also breathing but its shallow.”

“Jan and Jerzy are here. Both are breathing but their heart beat is faint. They may not make it. They are the priority.”

The communication of the rescue team was interrupted by the sudden intake of breath and someone shouting that they had found a dead body. The camera would rush over to reveal the skeletal remains of a man wearing the uniform of a Prussian officer clutching a book. One of the scientists would remove the book and flipping over to a page. “I think it’s in german. Put it in your pack until we get back to base camp.




The screen would show the King of Poland and Doctor Skrok again as they smiled at the camera. Attentive viewers would notice the tale-tale signs of injuries on the good doctor’s person. Slight weight loss and clear favoring of a limb as he adjusted his sitting position.

“And I’m sure each of you viewers are interested in seeing what was in those chests. And it is finally time to reveal the secret.”

Three chests were wheeled onto the stage, each showing their age, before they were stopped in front of the duo who had been sitting on the couch.

“Your Majesty, I give you the honor of showing the world what was found in those chests.”

The King’s face was one of pure joy as he carefully stood up from his seated position and maneuvered his way to the front of the chests where the locks had been removed and the latch had been raised. He would grab the latching mechanism with one hand and lift, revealing a chest filled to the brim with silver coins bearing the bust of Stanislaus II Augustus. Several million dollars worth of coins. The King was gasp audibly before he would shakily raise the second lid of the chest, revealing several ornate gold crowns that many of Polish descent would recognize as one of the lost Polish crown jewels. There was also a golden scepter and several swords placed within the chest.

“Your majesty, the next one will blow your mind.” Skrok spoke plainly as he grinned from ear to ear, watching the King reveal the secret.

The final chest would be opened by the king’s own hand and reveal the remaining items of the lost regalia including a golden sword that when the king drew it from its scabbard, revealed a notched edge of Szczerbiec. The coronation sword. In a moment full of emotions he would place the sword, point first, into the carpeted floor before kneeling before it and kissing the center of the crossguard where the Eagle of St John adorned the sword, visible tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“This is truly the best gift for the Kingdom of Poland. Not only has it restored what was lost but it will deliver hope to all Polish people that even if they are lost, there are those who will search them out. Whether they are lost in the world or their own mind. Polish people do not leave what’s important behind and will search for it.”




"Martin, I need to quit drinking your homemade vodka. I swear I'm seeing shit."

"What do you mean Jakob? This is store bought."

"I swear I just saw a group of Wing Hussars ride right down the valley just now"

The man's voice would be swallowed up by the sound of a massive thunderclap that rolled through the valley as if hundreds of horses came galloping past towards Krakow.
 
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