NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This RP is for "Ministry" nations only. If you are not a member of The Ministry, please refrain from posting.

The dark procession made it's way towards Dawn's Cathedral, a black citadel that stood longer than the Freeks could remember. They moved slowly without illumination from the moon, but instead relied only on flickering torch light. Clothed in black ceremonial robes, the procession was led by The Destroyer himself. He was clothed in his traditional battle armor, and the chrome skulls on his knee guards shimmered eerily as the light from the torches danced across the whole of Damien's body. The cathedral lay just in the distance, it's windows barely lit by the candles inside.

The breeze was gentle and made the dead leaves on the trees shake and shiver as the procession rounded the final turn and began making their way up the steps of the black cathedral. Stading at the top of the stairs was The One Who Shall Remain Unnamed, his faace hidden by the large hat he always wore. He bowed respectfully as Dreadfire and his followers made thier way into the citadel, and as the last few people filed inside, he slowly and silently shut the massive oak doors. The inside of the cathedral was alive with light from thousands of melting candles, and the alter was barren except for a few aging priests. Large ravens were perched on the rafters overhead, and their caws occassionally broke the comfortable silence as they watched with blackened eyes as the ceremony began. Dreadfire walked down the long isle towards the alter, and the priests bowed deeply. Decorating the alter were dozens of severed heads, some nothing more than the skull, save for some decaying flesh. Some of the heads were fresh, either from the Austo Hungary war or the war with Fascist White States....their butchered skulls a silent testament to the evil that dwelled inside the borders of Automagfreek.

Lord Damien stood at the alter where several large chalices were placed next to a large book. Damien rounded the alter and stood at it's rear, looking out towards the silent congregation. He removed his cape from his mighty shoulders, it's crimson colors flapping slightly as Dreadfire tossed it off to the side. Damien then picked up one of the chalices and held the golden cup up high. Today the world has seen our might, they have felt the burn of the Dread Fires. But today is just the beginning. A new Ministry has been born in the fires of war and the ashes of the dead, and from the end shall spring forth a new beginning.....a beginning coated in rotten flesh and dripping in blood. Damien raised the chalice to his lips, drinking the intoxicating fluids that reside in the cup's golden interior. The red liquid ran down the throat of Dreadfire, that liquid clearly human blood. He set the cup down and tilted his head back, letting loose a showering cloud of blood. He tilted his head back forward to the congregation, his red eyes rolled back and blood covering his entire torso. Angels and Demons...a march man's bewildering hosts! We are the dark spot in the sun, we are the shadow behind the shimmering pillar of light! We are the sick bastard child of the righteous! The indomitable peak that is Automagfreek will continue to stand now and forever as a testament to all that is good and those that will resort to the most twisted evil to ensure the life of that good!

The pagans in the crowd chanted HAIL! loudly as Dreadfire picked up the chalice and began downing the blood yet again, this time swallowing. He drew his mighty blade, the Relic's Sword, and placed it down on the alter. He then picked up the decaying head of an unknown man and poured blood into the neck from yet another one of the cups that sat on the alter. With it's contents emptied, Dreafire held the head over his sword with his arms extended, and turned the rotten skull upwards. Blood oozed from the neck and mouth of the head and solied the shimmering blade of the Relic's Sword. Damien cast the empty flask aside and raised his sword high above his head, the blood running down his arms. The ravens began circling overhead, their shrill cries filling the room. Behold the great rebirth! Behold the progenies of the great apocalypse! Behold that which made babes weep and grown men shudder! Behold.......the birth of The Ministry!

The pagans yet again chanted in unison HAIL as the Relic's Sword remained aloft above Damien's head. The organs sounded loudly, playing eerie hymns thousands of years old as the pagans began stirring.

There are those here who seek to share in the glory that is The Ministry, and the time has come for the world to know of our existance. Come forth, ye outcast deciples of the world.....claim the glory that belongs to you.

(OOC: Delta should really be handling the rouge AI crises... but I don't see any of my other chars that will fit this RP.)

Dressed in a long trenchcoat and widebrimmed hat he walked just behind the Destroyer and his followers. As they approached the citidel, he watched The One Who Shall Remain Unnamed. He was one of the few that eluded Delta's organization. He felt like walking up and pulling the hat off, but restrained himself.

As the congregation entered, Delta gazed up at the crows and then back to the scene beginning to unfold. The smell of rotting flesh was strong, but he didn't mind it. He had witnessed such things before. As Damien removed his cloak, Delta removed his hat, watching silently throughout the rituals of the ceremony until Dreadfire held up the sword. His voice joind the pagans, deep voice adding to the chant of HAIL until Damien spoke again, calling forth those that wished to share in the Ministry's glory. Delta stepped forward silently, eyes locked onto Damien's. A joyless smile faintly traced his lips.

An image flashed through Damien's mind, and his skin began to grow cold. Ice water was pumping through his veins as he had a flashback to that dank cave under the Halls of the Dead and the cold that chilled his soul. This...Delta will be a most fearsome ally indeed, for the very warmth of my skin fades in his presense..... Dreadfire thought to himself. He watched as Delta movedtowards the alter, and the entire event was a near dream sequence the Dreadfire. He ahd a further flashback to the Blood Pact that was created in this very church with the mighty nation of Pantera, and now he would do so again with The Ministry.

Delta....he who comes forth. Damien pointed the bloodied sword at Delta. You seek to build this Ministry on the broken corpse that is the past? You seek to build a new empire from dust? I say to you that on this day we shall do just that. With both the flame and the blade we shall carve our new order into the very fabric of time, and those that mock and haze us will pay the dearest cost.

Damien looked around through the congregation, trying to spot those that dared to come forth. Be there another among you that seeks to shape this dynasty? Yes.....I can feel it in my burning soul that there will be others that will walk that same path as Delta. Damien moved the sword to and fro, pointing it at the cloaked faces in the crowd. Come forth.

OOC: I'm going to wait for the other Ministry nations to get in a post or two before proceeding.

Christopher Dantes, dressed in black, with his blonde hair, and flashing blue eyes, stepped forward. His eyes held a strange glow in them this night, most people could not say that they knew him well. If they did, they would wonder why he woke up screaming night, after night. And if they did, they would wonder why he held back a rage, that would make most men tremble in fear, should it be released.


He waited behind Delta, though he did not sing, he shouted hail. And Damien looked impressivley upon this Disciple, he than stepped forward as Damien spoke his words.

He stood confidentlly, a noticeble trait in one so young. His eyes locked with that of Damien, and he spoke.

"I, Lord of Tersanctus, Son of Edmund, blood of Kungshao, claim my right to walk the path of the Ministry. I am of that which is made for war, and vengeance." he spoke in booming voice. And then resigned himself waiting for Damiens repsonse.

OOC: On hold until Sketch posts.

ooc: My bad

ic:

Many days prior:

The esteemed Lord Damien of AutoMagFreek seeks to solidify the bound between nations.

Yes, the esteemed Lord Damien.....

There is no doubt that he is worthy of that respect.

You spend far too much idling away observing the excesses of others.

No more than you spend observing your own.

Such is my right and priveledge

Lords, the issue.

What of the current obligations of our sovereign lands?

Initiated ages ago by Lord Darcia. We are the ones who guide these lands now.

Some would beg to differ my good lord.....

She is of no consequence, a mere puppet put into place by the elders who no longer are able to guide their own fates, much less ours.

[meeting continues]

===============================================

The courier recited his message verbatim, syntax and all, not even knowing what it was he was saying. A verbal savant, who's only existence was to transports words. Physically incapable of divulging even the smallests of details without the proper key, he was an example of the greatest luxury - absolute power. Such was the power of the lords, every whim, every want, nothing was denied.

A slim figure smirked invisibly from behind a silken screen. *of no consequence.....* With a soft, sultry voice, a single command was given - you have my leave

Yes m'lady

With his head bowed down so deeply that his brow nearly touched his knees, he shuffled deftly out of the audience chamber - backwards.

===============================================

Completely out of place, the Sketchian representative stepped forth into the darkness that was his choosen company. Only his deep reverance for the Lady Jagara prevented him from denying this assignment, this unseemly gathering of calculated coldness and brutal bloodlust. Looking utterly out of place, his appearance (http://img76.photobucket.com/albums/v232/Worldeaters/avatars/monk1.jpg) was that of the disciples of the ancient Terran Bhuddist religions. While not entirely untrue, there was a much deeper meaning. It was a symbol of his strength of will and moral fiber, and his absolute unwavering loyalty to her. A priveldge only granted to those who had taken the final leap of faith. Although his physical stature spoke of nothing unusally, his eyes were those of someone who has not only faced death many times, but something more.....Damien himself may have noticed; one rarely faces death and prevails.

Bowing his head in deference to the proceedings, he silently offered an invocation of solace to those who would remain dead.

ooc: Lady Jagara is a character who is not fully released, please do not refer to her directly.

Delta glanced once at the two that approached. He looked each one over once and then returned his eyes to Damien. The Ministry is strong enough allready to take on many an alliance. I wonder who else Dreadfire invited... the named, but nameless man thought.

Dreadfire glanced at those who stepped forward to claim their piece of the glory, but yet his eyes still trailed back towards the congregation. While he was most impressed with those that stood before him, he knew deep inside his bones that there was someone else....someone lurking in the shadows that had yet to reveal himself. Damien's red eyes flared in the burning light of the candles as he continued to scan about the room.....


OOC: I'm hoping to bring at least 1 more into this. I'll let you guys know if I can get somebody or not.

OOC: Seeing as some that I've invited haven't posted yet....

IC:

Dreadfire looked about the faces of the select few that had stepped forward, and although he was disappointed that there were so few, he took comfort in the fact that each person was chief of an indomitable power. Damien took one last look in each man's eyes before lifting his chin ever so slightly.

Very well then. I commend those that have come forth to seek their destiny. The Ministry will indeed be a force that will make even the most fearsome creatures tremble. The pieces are already in motion, and The Ministry has accomplished it's first goal. Both Automagfreek and Sketch have purchased The Resi Corporation in the name of The Ministry. This was a brilliant move, and all of our nations will profit greatly from this.

Damien drew The Relic's Sword that hung at his side, and with both hands clasped on the handle, he gently placed the tip of the blade on the ground and knelt down.

On this day I make onto you an oath. An oath to rise up and defend you, my new brothers, should the need arise. I say to you that I will lay my life on the line without hesitation, and for this service I expect the same from each and every one of you. Our fates are now intertwined, and now we all travel the same road. Fear not the dangers that lay ahead, for if we stay true to eachother nothing can overcome us. We will do what we please when we please, and through our collective body nothing shall ever stop the momentum we've already made. Damien rose to his feet and lifted his sword up, pointing it directly at those that stood before him.

Will you rise.....or become a slave?

From here, there is no turning back. I have pledged my unending support and my life. What say you now?

OOC: Bump

(tag for reading purposes)

Delta looks to his left, then to his right. His eyes look up at Damien and took a half step forward. "A citizen of the Combine bows to only one man... me. And I bow to nothing, be it man, God or Satan. I pledge my life and my loyalty to this Ministry. In it, we can rival all three..."

The monk glided foward, moving an erie grace. Dipping his head ever so slightly, neither denying the proper respect or appearing too haughty to do so. With a soft modulated voice he speaks - My lady has sent me as her hand. And as she commands, the Ministry will have my services. With those words, he bowed even deeper, with slow methodical purpose, in deference to his company.

ooc: He considers his life and loyalty to belong to Lady Jagara alone, her and only her. But if she commands it, he will render the same for someone else. Hence "services" instead of your "life and loyalty" bit.

Bump, so we can finish this.

There was movement in the audience. "The Ministry has another's support." The thought, For the time being, was left unsaid.

There among the shadows a man stepped forward. He was tall, seven feet in height, and dark brown skinned. His head was shaved smooth and his face looked stern (after the gore and evil he had just seen there was nothing else he would look). There was a military bearing to his movements and stance.

As for from whence he hailed, none could would have guessed (even Dantes). He had entered following the group was clearly alien to the Freek land and had kept to the back hoping for a smiting from God to save him from his task. Unfortunately, that had not happened and he had seen again the carnage that evil brought to the world. He had seen death before, seen the wholesale slaughter that was the first Raeman Dark Eldar conflict, and been bloodied and scarred forever by that evil.

He raised his left arm and there was another glint of metal was visible in the room. This one not from a sword, but from a robot arm prostetic, custom made by the Resi Corporation for a mangled soldier and member of a powerful family. "I, Marcus Sutherland, am here to represent my nation, my people, my Praetor to this Ministry."

Such a task would not be easy. Tension had grown after the governmental collapse in Tersanctus after the death of Edmund Dantes and the division of the nations had only further increased after Tersanctus had expulsed a large ammount of it's loyal population, based solely on their species. Crimmond and Sketch were regarded with a kind of watchful neutrality, but Automagfreek was widely regarded as a world evil, especially after the Drakonian Intelligence Agency had reported that nation had been a ringleader of one of the GDODAD resurgances. Still there was no open hostilities to any nation represented in the Cathedral and none expected.

That is until the current display of gore and evil.

Delta turned where he stood and watched the new one step forward and speak. After he finished, he faced Damien again, keeping his silence for the moment. Something about this one's timing seemed an insult. A small one, but still.

He did not recognize the man or anything on his clothing. After a moment, before Damien could respond. "Mister Sutherland, I do not mean to speak out of place, but you speak as if we all know what your nation is named." His voice was softer, the tone deeper. His voice did not carry the annoyance his eyes, looking towards Damien, conveyed.

(TAG, I'm reading this as we speak, and want to have a spot nice and ready to post)