Generic empire
27-11-2004, 23:35
It had been twenty long, prosperous years since the return of Emperor Antonius to Generia. Antonius was one of few strong enough to contain the Empire in peace for any relatively long duration of time, and would go down in history as Antonius the Great.
Five years after his return, Antonius had married his mistress, Lady Alexa, and had ruled with her by his side as a constant bastion of comfort and strength through the best and worst of times. They had had three children together, two daughters, and a son. At the birth of his son, the sovereign lord of Generia had rejoiced, but his joy was to be short lived. His son, Antonius Desmus was sickly, and not expected to last three months. In fact, with the aid of Generian advanced medical technology, he had so far lived fifteen years.
Of course, his bones were quite brittle and his cardiovascular system weak, and so it was commonly decided by the Emperor’s advisors that the boy was in no way fit to rule. Many pushed for the disinheritance of Antonius the younger, and the appointment of the boy’s uncle as heir. After much discourse, Antonius made the final decision to leave his son as the heir apparent, but to establish his current council, headed by his brother Arus, as the true government, leaving Antonius Desmus as more of a figurehead. The decision was accepted by all as a wise course of action, and it seemed as though the crisis of succession was resolved.
But there was another. Unbeknownst to Empress Alexa, her children, or even any of the Emperor’s closest confidants, Antonius had had as his mistress a certain Lady Anja before his marriage to Alexa. She had in fact gone into exile with the Emperor in The Island of Rose at the time of the usurping of the throne by the traitor Alexei. After some time, it became apparent to Antonius that this woman wanted nothing but power and station through marriage to the Emperor. So it was that when she came to Antonius to beg for marriage, he turned her away, exiling her to the Imperial port city of Antonium in Mozambique.
However, at the time of her exile, Anja was pregnant. She bore the child in the home of a general, the commander of the Praetorian garrison in the city whom she had taken as her lover, mostly out of need for shelter. The child was a son, and was named Marius. As he grew, he was trained in the ways of war by his surrogate father, the general Marcus Meridius.
He was trained in the ways of hatred by his mother, who constantly reminded him of where he had come from, and of how his cruel father had banished them without reason so that he could lay with the “tramp of an Empress” he now held as his wife. Thus the seeds were planted in the boy’s mind.
At seventeen, Marius entered the army and quickly rose through the ranks until he was nearly on even station with his surrogate father. Still, Antonius remained unaware that this promising young officer was in fact his son.
As he rose in station, Marius began to realize his own potential, and became angry at the fact that General Meridius seemingly refused to allow him to progress further. In fact, the general was frightened of the young man, and what he saw he was becoming. Marius seemed to exhibit dangerous tendencies, utilizing extreme violence in even the least dangerous situations. The thing that scared him, however, was that Marius enjoyed it.
So it was that Marius’s ambition was blocked, and his frustration stewed. Soon enough, the general was found dead at his desk, a .357 bullet hole through his skull. It was ruled as a suicide.
As his bastard son schemed in the backwaters of Mozambique, Emperor Antonius continued to rule with wisdom and care, steering the Empire through international diplomacy with great success. At age 60, Antonius died in his bed, a product of emphysema. Two months were set aside as a period of national grieving, and grieve they did. The funeral was the largest spectacle in modern Imperial history. Millions crowded the streets of Generia City to watch the procession move to the great mausoleum constructed years before for this occasion.
At the end of the two months, Varus prepared to be coronated, and the council of former advisors to Antonius settled in to run things.
Marus had not been idle in these years however. He now had power and influence among the military, and, fueled by the injustice he felt at the fact that the weaker of two sons would be granted precedence over him, he prepared to seize the opportunity. Accompanied by a detachment of twenty of his finest soldiers, the now General Marius traveled to the capital.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth
The doors swung open with a loud crash, and a shadowy figure stepped into the main foyer of the Imperial Palace. The people who had been going about their business halted and squinted at the figure through the glare from the outside.
The shadow stood there for some time, before moving forward, revealing his strong features and muscular build. The people watched in confusion as the man advanced. Through the door followed a score of soldiers, each bearing an unfamiliar emblem on his uniform.
The man looked harshly into the face of each awestruck person before halting in front of the grand staircase. At the top of the staircase appeared a rather irritated looking elderly gentlemen. He hurried down the steps and stood before the man.
“What is the meaning of this? Who are you.”
The man spoke, his voice sharp and booming.
“I am Marius Meridius Alexei, firstborn son of Antonius I, and rightful heir to the Imperial throne.”
The old man chuckled.
“Are you mad? Guards!”
Marius seized the old man about the throat and thrust him against the banister of the staircase. Several White Guardsmen rushed into the room, only to be met by the muzzles of Marius’s soldier’s guns.
“Praetorians! Lay down your arms and bow before your true emperor!”
The men stood frozen in place. Marius turned back to the man whose throat he now clutched.
“Tell them to do as I say.”
He released his grip slightly and the old man croaked out an order.
“Do it.”
The guards cautiously set their weapons on the ground, and Marius’s men rushed forward to secure them. Marius released the man, who gasped for air and rubbed his soar neck.
“Now, I have told you who I am. Tell me who you are.”
The man spoke through harsh breaths.
“Arius Cassius, advisor to the Emperor.”
“Then advise me, old fool. I know of your treachery, of your stinking plots. The weak one will be Emperor in name only. Your ‘council’ is a farce, the true puppet master. You will bring me before them so that they may look upon the face of true power.”
“Impossible.”
Marius drew a saber from its sheath at his waist and put it to the old man’s throat.
“Maybe we can work something out. Follow me.”
Marius sheathed his sword and gestured to his men. They formed up and followed Marius, rifles at the ready. The procession made its way through the vast complex that was the Imperial palace until finally reaching a pair of large doors, engraved with the Imperial seal.
“Right through here.”
Arius opened the doors, and stepped into the dark room. Marius followed. In the center of the chamber sat a large, circular conference table. Around this sat several figures, who now looked to gaze at the man who entered their presence. From one of the men came a low, gravelly voice.
“Arius, who is this man?”
“His name is Marius. He claims to be the rightful heir to the Imperial throne.”
Marius stepped forward into a beam of light, and spoke.
“Indeed I am! I am the true firstborn of Antonius, the despicable fool who banished me and my mother to that shithole years ago! I have come to reclaim what is mine before it is wrongfully given away to the weak and the corrupt!”
The council was startled by the man’s staunch statements. A murmur turned slowly into an uproar as the advisors began to shout cries of ‘preposterous’ and ‘he’s mad.’ However, one man who had thus far remained silent raised a hand for order and spoke.
“No, friends. It is the truth. You have forgotten Anja, Antonius’s former lover. At the time she was sent away, she was indeed pregnant. Not a soul but the Emperor and myself were aware of the fact at the time. Her child was not expected to last the night of his birth, but it would seem we were mistaken.”
“Avidius, are you most certain you are not mistaken now?”
“Yes, Lord Cassius, this man cannot be the man he says he is. How could we not have known about his existence?”
“I am indeed certain. Look into his face and tell me you do not see the features of our late Emperor.”
“Lord Cassius is indeed wise. I see he speaks truthfully. The man does bear the appearance of Antonius, and that of the lady Anja.”
Marius, who had thus far remained silent, spoke.
“Then this man is the least foolish of you, for it was he alone who could see my true identity. He speaks the truth, and I speak with veracity as well. You now have no choice but to hand me the crown, for I have the right of the firstborn.”
Murmurs again filled the dark room.
“But he is not the true heir. It cannot be. He was conceived of the treacherous harpy, and I can see he has her wild lust for power. This man must not become emperor.”
“But he is strong, stronger than Varus. Would you rather let the Empire whither away under Varus’s unsteady hands, or take our chances with this man?”
Lord Avidius Cassius raised his hand once more for silence and spoke.
“Marius, you present us with a great dilemma. Pray leave us for some time to discuss the matter. Be patient and perhaps you shall have what you desire. In the mean time, make use of the guest quarters of the palace.”
“Fine. You shall have until tomorrow morning to bring me a favorable decision.”
Marius turned, his long black cloak flying about behind him, and stormed out of the chamber.
He returned the next morning as he had promised to receive the council’s verdict. Avidius Cassius addressed him.
“After the deliberations that consumed the entirety of time from when you left until now, we have reached our decision. Marius, your step brother is weak, too frail physically and mentally to rule the Empire, even with the aid of this council. However, we believe that your ambition will prove threatening if it goes unchecked. Therefore, we have decided to give you the crown, as long as you rule under the direct guidance of the Imperial parliament.”
A sly grin creased Marius’s mouth.
“Excellent. Than it will be so, and it will be so as soon as possible for that matter. The coronation must take place tomorrow.”
“Lord Marius, these things take time to prepare. It will be at least a month before the ceremony can officially commence.”
“Silence old fool! It will be done tomorrow, or you will all regret it!”
Marius once more stormed from the room, a great fire in his eyes.
It was indeed as he desired. The next day, he was presented the Imperial crown, which he took from the bishop himself, as opposed to waiting for it to be placed upon his head. Thus Emperor Marius came to power, and the days of wine and roses came to an end forevermore.
Purges and Such
It had been the terms of the agreement that now-Emperor Marius would live in certain subjection to the Imperial parliament on matters of state. However, Marius was far too clever to allow this to get in his way. If he would be forced to live under an institution, he would make it so that the institution was firmly in his pocket.
So, with the help of his personal bodyguard, his former garrison from Mozambique christened the Red Hand, Marius began a brutal campaign of arrest and assassination to cleanse the senate of those who would disagree with him.
His men came at night, the armored cars screeching to a halt outside of apartment buildings, soldiers rushing up the steps, gunfire, and screaming persons being dragged down the steps to the backs of the vehicles which sped off into the night. In one week, Marius had achieved his first goal.
Still he saw threats everywhere, namely in the members of the old government. He feared that the council would begin to regret their decision of appointing him, and so he decided to remove them all.
Again, the Red Hand worked with quick efficiency. Each member of the council and his respective family members were discreetly eliminated, except for one, Lord Avidius Cassius. Marius had a particular distaste for this man, and wanted the joy of terminating him personally.
On a cold February night, the Chancellor was dragged into Marius’s throne room, and made to stand before the Emperor.
Marius stood with his back to the man, enjoying the fear he knew Cassius was feeling. He turned slowly, the light from the moon coming in from the windows casting a sickly glow on his crazed eyes.
“Look at you. Even now you eye me with contempt, you condescending bastard. What of your senate now? I own them. And of your council? Have you not heard that they all lie rotting, full of holes? I saved you for last.”
A nearby soldier handed Marius a rifle.
“I shall enjoy this.”
The crack echoed through the halls of the palace as the Chancellor fell to the floor with a thud, his blood flowing from the crater in his skull to stain the white tiles.
So it was that Antonius began his liquidation of the old government. Antonius’s family was next to go. His daughters were all put to the sword. His wife, the lady Alexa was spared this fate, as she was fortunate enough to have passed on several weeks before, some say out of grief for the loss of her beloved husband.
With his power firmly consolidated, Marius set on to accomplish everything his wild lusts would lead him to.
Five years after his return, Antonius had married his mistress, Lady Alexa, and had ruled with her by his side as a constant bastion of comfort and strength through the best and worst of times. They had had three children together, two daughters, and a son. At the birth of his son, the sovereign lord of Generia had rejoiced, but his joy was to be short lived. His son, Antonius Desmus was sickly, and not expected to last three months. In fact, with the aid of Generian advanced medical technology, he had so far lived fifteen years.
Of course, his bones were quite brittle and his cardiovascular system weak, and so it was commonly decided by the Emperor’s advisors that the boy was in no way fit to rule. Many pushed for the disinheritance of Antonius the younger, and the appointment of the boy’s uncle as heir. After much discourse, Antonius made the final decision to leave his son as the heir apparent, but to establish his current council, headed by his brother Arus, as the true government, leaving Antonius Desmus as more of a figurehead. The decision was accepted by all as a wise course of action, and it seemed as though the crisis of succession was resolved.
But there was another. Unbeknownst to Empress Alexa, her children, or even any of the Emperor’s closest confidants, Antonius had had as his mistress a certain Lady Anja before his marriage to Alexa. She had in fact gone into exile with the Emperor in The Island of Rose at the time of the usurping of the throne by the traitor Alexei. After some time, it became apparent to Antonius that this woman wanted nothing but power and station through marriage to the Emperor. So it was that when she came to Antonius to beg for marriage, he turned her away, exiling her to the Imperial port city of Antonium in Mozambique.
However, at the time of her exile, Anja was pregnant. She bore the child in the home of a general, the commander of the Praetorian garrison in the city whom she had taken as her lover, mostly out of need for shelter. The child was a son, and was named Marius. As he grew, he was trained in the ways of war by his surrogate father, the general Marcus Meridius.
He was trained in the ways of hatred by his mother, who constantly reminded him of where he had come from, and of how his cruel father had banished them without reason so that he could lay with the “tramp of an Empress” he now held as his wife. Thus the seeds were planted in the boy’s mind.
At seventeen, Marius entered the army and quickly rose through the ranks until he was nearly on even station with his surrogate father. Still, Antonius remained unaware that this promising young officer was in fact his son.
As he rose in station, Marius began to realize his own potential, and became angry at the fact that General Meridius seemingly refused to allow him to progress further. In fact, the general was frightened of the young man, and what he saw he was becoming. Marius seemed to exhibit dangerous tendencies, utilizing extreme violence in even the least dangerous situations. The thing that scared him, however, was that Marius enjoyed it.
So it was that Marius’s ambition was blocked, and his frustration stewed. Soon enough, the general was found dead at his desk, a .357 bullet hole through his skull. It was ruled as a suicide.
As his bastard son schemed in the backwaters of Mozambique, Emperor Antonius continued to rule with wisdom and care, steering the Empire through international diplomacy with great success. At age 60, Antonius died in his bed, a product of emphysema. Two months were set aside as a period of national grieving, and grieve they did. The funeral was the largest spectacle in modern Imperial history. Millions crowded the streets of Generia City to watch the procession move to the great mausoleum constructed years before for this occasion.
At the end of the two months, Varus prepared to be coronated, and the council of former advisors to Antonius settled in to run things.
Marus had not been idle in these years however. He now had power and influence among the military, and, fueled by the injustice he felt at the fact that the weaker of two sons would be granted precedence over him, he prepared to seize the opportunity. Accompanied by a detachment of twenty of his finest soldiers, the now General Marius traveled to the capital.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth
The doors swung open with a loud crash, and a shadowy figure stepped into the main foyer of the Imperial Palace. The people who had been going about their business halted and squinted at the figure through the glare from the outside.
The shadow stood there for some time, before moving forward, revealing his strong features and muscular build. The people watched in confusion as the man advanced. Through the door followed a score of soldiers, each bearing an unfamiliar emblem on his uniform.
The man looked harshly into the face of each awestruck person before halting in front of the grand staircase. At the top of the staircase appeared a rather irritated looking elderly gentlemen. He hurried down the steps and stood before the man.
“What is the meaning of this? Who are you.”
The man spoke, his voice sharp and booming.
“I am Marius Meridius Alexei, firstborn son of Antonius I, and rightful heir to the Imperial throne.”
The old man chuckled.
“Are you mad? Guards!”
Marius seized the old man about the throat and thrust him against the banister of the staircase. Several White Guardsmen rushed into the room, only to be met by the muzzles of Marius’s soldier’s guns.
“Praetorians! Lay down your arms and bow before your true emperor!”
The men stood frozen in place. Marius turned back to the man whose throat he now clutched.
“Tell them to do as I say.”
He released his grip slightly and the old man croaked out an order.
“Do it.”
The guards cautiously set their weapons on the ground, and Marius’s men rushed forward to secure them. Marius released the man, who gasped for air and rubbed his soar neck.
“Now, I have told you who I am. Tell me who you are.”
The man spoke through harsh breaths.
“Arius Cassius, advisor to the Emperor.”
“Then advise me, old fool. I know of your treachery, of your stinking plots. The weak one will be Emperor in name only. Your ‘council’ is a farce, the true puppet master. You will bring me before them so that they may look upon the face of true power.”
“Impossible.”
Marius drew a saber from its sheath at his waist and put it to the old man’s throat.
“Maybe we can work something out. Follow me.”
Marius sheathed his sword and gestured to his men. They formed up and followed Marius, rifles at the ready. The procession made its way through the vast complex that was the Imperial palace until finally reaching a pair of large doors, engraved with the Imperial seal.
“Right through here.”
Arius opened the doors, and stepped into the dark room. Marius followed. In the center of the chamber sat a large, circular conference table. Around this sat several figures, who now looked to gaze at the man who entered their presence. From one of the men came a low, gravelly voice.
“Arius, who is this man?”
“His name is Marius. He claims to be the rightful heir to the Imperial throne.”
Marius stepped forward into a beam of light, and spoke.
“Indeed I am! I am the true firstborn of Antonius, the despicable fool who banished me and my mother to that shithole years ago! I have come to reclaim what is mine before it is wrongfully given away to the weak and the corrupt!”
The council was startled by the man’s staunch statements. A murmur turned slowly into an uproar as the advisors began to shout cries of ‘preposterous’ and ‘he’s mad.’ However, one man who had thus far remained silent raised a hand for order and spoke.
“No, friends. It is the truth. You have forgotten Anja, Antonius’s former lover. At the time she was sent away, she was indeed pregnant. Not a soul but the Emperor and myself were aware of the fact at the time. Her child was not expected to last the night of his birth, but it would seem we were mistaken.”
“Avidius, are you most certain you are not mistaken now?”
“Yes, Lord Cassius, this man cannot be the man he says he is. How could we not have known about his existence?”
“I am indeed certain. Look into his face and tell me you do not see the features of our late Emperor.”
“Lord Cassius is indeed wise. I see he speaks truthfully. The man does bear the appearance of Antonius, and that of the lady Anja.”
Marius, who had thus far remained silent, spoke.
“Then this man is the least foolish of you, for it was he alone who could see my true identity. He speaks the truth, and I speak with veracity as well. You now have no choice but to hand me the crown, for I have the right of the firstborn.”
Murmurs again filled the dark room.
“But he is not the true heir. It cannot be. He was conceived of the treacherous harpy, and I can see he has her wild lust for power. This man must not become emperor.”
“But he is strong, stronger than Varus. Would you rather let the Empire whither away under Varus’s unsteady hands, or take our chances with this man?”
Lord Avidius Cassius raised his hand once more for silence and spoke.
“Marius, you present us with a great dilemma. Pray leave us for some time to discuss the matter. Be patient and perhaps you shall have what you desire. In the mean time, make use of the guest quarters of the palace.”
“Fine. You shall have until tomorrow morning to bring me a favorable decision.”
Marius turned, his long black cloak flying about behind him, and stormed out of the chamber.
He returned the next morning as he had promised to receive the council’s verdict. Avidius Cassius addressed him.
“After the deliberations that consumed the entirety of time from when you left until now, we have reached our decision. Marius, your step brother is weak, too frail physically and mentally to rule the Empire, even with the aid of this council. However, we believe that your ambition will prove threatening if it goes unchecked. Therefore, we have decided to give you the crown, as long as you rule under the direct guidance of the Imperial parliament.”
A sly grin creased Marius’s mouth.
“Excellent. Than it will be so, and it will be so as soon as possible for that matter. The coronation must take place tomorrow.”
“Lord Marius, these things take time to prepare. It will be at least a month before the ceremony can officially commence.”
“Silence old fool! It will be done tomorrow, or you will all regret it!”
Marius once more stormed from the room, a great fire in his eyes.
It was indeed as he desired. The next day, he was presented the Imperial crown, which he took from the bishop himself, as opposed to waiting for it to be placed upon his head. Thus Emperor Marius came to power, and the days of wine and roses came to an end forevermore.
Purges and Such
It had been the terms of the agreement that now-Emperor Marius would live in certain subjection to the Imperial parliament on matters of state. However, Marius was far too clever to allow this to get in his way. If he would be forced to live under an institution, he would make it so that the institution was firmly in his pocket.
So, with the help of his personal bodyguard, his former garrison from Mozambique christened the Red Hand, Marius began a brutal campaign of arrest and assassination to cleanse the senate of those who would disagree with him.
His men came at night, the armored cars screeching to a halt outside of apartment buildings, soldiers rushing up the steps, gunfire, and screaming persons being dragged down the steps to the backs of the vehicles which sped off into the night. In one week, Marius had achieved his first goal.
Still he saw threats everywhere, namely in the members of the old government. He feared that the council would begin to regret their decision of appointing him, and so he decided to remove them all.
Again, the Red Hand worked with quick efficiency. Each member of the council and his respective family members were discreetly eliminated, except for one, Lord Avidius Cassius. Marius had a particular distaste for this man, and wanted the joy of terminating him personally.
On a cold February night, the Chancellor was dragged into Marius’s throne room, and made to stand before the Emperor.
Marius stood with his back to the man, enjoying the fear he knew Cassius was feeling. He turned slowly, the light from the moon coming in from the windows casting a sickly glow on his crazed eyes.
“Look at you. Even now you eye me with contempt, you condescending bastard. What of your senate now? I own them. And of your council? Have you not heard that they all lie rotting, full of holes? I saved you for last.”
A nearby soldier handed Marius a rifle.
“I shall enjoy this.”
The crack echoed through the halls of the palace as the Chancellor fell to the floor with a thud, his blood flowing from the crater in his skull to stain the white tiles.
So it was that Antonius began his liquidation of the old government. Antonius’s family was next to go. His daughters were all put to the sword. His wife, the lady Alexa was spared this fate, as she was fortunate enough to have passed on several weeks before, some say out of grief for the loss of her beloved husband.
With his power firmly consolidated, Marius set on to accomplish everything his wild lusts would lead him to.