It’s not a happy story, might I preface.
This was.. oh, mid sixteen hundreds, I think. I lived in the Holy Roman Empire. I would generally flee from small state to small state every so often. One state, I.. can’t even remember its name now, I stayed in for a couple decades. They had a larger Jewish community than most.
*melancholy falls over his face*
The.. Prince of this state didn’t like that. One night, he arrests two Jews as they’re getting water from one of the town’s wells. He accuses them of attempting to poison the water supply. He fed hysteria to the people of the city. A few days later… a pogrom.
I had seen several pogroms before. But over.. a lie? Hundreds dead, several hundreds more injured, tens more missing, entire areas of the ghetto entirely destroyed and for what? A false rumour? Who am I kidding, that’s what they were always over. But I was livid. I.. found a water supply outside the ghetto, informed the rabbis, and decided that, if the prince wanted a poisoned water supply—
*hands tighten on hys mug, anger unlike any Savi’s heard from him before seeping into his voice*
—then I’d give him one. I poisoned every well and every aqueduct in that town. I watched for days as people got sicker and sicker with no help of getting better. And then I went to the Prince. I told him I did it, and his son—knowing very well he didn’t have one—had better respect my people more than he did.
*shrugs, forcing an apathetic demeanour*
And then I killed him. He had no heir. With no heir, surrounding kingdoms start getting involved, and…
*trails off for a moment, then continues eerily blankly*
They pillaged that town for days. It went up in flames.