NationStates Jolt Archive

It was dark this eve. Rain drops were gently tapping on window-sills across Holgin. A man wearing a rather tight suit, resembling that of a Roman Catholic Priest's. He was Bishop William Ercke, head of the diocese in Braum Raion. He walked into the shadowy beerhall, lookign aroudn at the White men keeping to themselves for the most part. A man sat on the far end wearing roughly the same outfit waved to him. Father Ercke made his way to the man. "Ah, Father Mayer ho-" Ercke was interrupted.

"No time for formalities, Will."

The two quickly sat down at this. It was unusual for two Bishops to be meeting in a beerhall like this in the first-place, but considering the times, not exactly too uncommon. "Kurt, what is wrong?"

"Il Militis Christi..."

"What?"

"The Knights of Christ..."

"Oh Kurt, getting worked up about that again? Bah, you need a dri-"

Father Mayer stood abruptly, his legs hitting the table as he firmly grasped Father Ercke's collar,"Will, listen to me. These things are true." He noticed his was drawing attention, and released the Bishop. The two sat down again. "Will, I know you didn't believe me six months ago, but I know it's true now. Three nights ago, I was in the presence of the Archbishop of Der Vaterland--Father Schmitt--and as I was sitting their, waiting for him to come into his office. I heard a sudden stirring outside his office and I pushed open his door just a crack. I saw roughly five men in black, cloak like, attire. In the middle of the small group was a man, by his dress he looked like a priest. He was shouting something in Russian, something like 'You Fascist pigs! You'll die like Dhukrotov!'. It struck me, that yes, he was speaking Russian and Russian is a common language in The Confederacy. But his dialect sounden like he came from the plain near the Volga."

"But Kurt, Dhukrotov isn't Fascist... Well, wasn't."

"I know... He wasn't then. But that was three days ago, roughly. I also heard the cloaked men uttering, 'Il Militis Christi L'ha giudicata inadatto per l'esistenza.. Lei sarà il lancio nel Lago di Fuoco dal Nostro Dio di Signore per la sua bestemmia.' (The Knights of Christ have deemed you unfit for existence... You shall be cast into the Lake of Fire by Our Lord God for your blasphemy.). Anyway, the day after that incident, I heard Hecktor Krimisky, a well reknowned Socialist Priest in Soviet Bloc has died under 'mysterious circumstances'. It was deemed a suicide, but we all know, Catholics just don't commit suicide. But, he was found beaten, slashed, and thrown off the roof of a siz story building... And then, two days later, the Soviet Bloc turns Fascist with help from the Czar, May Our Lord God Bless Him."

"Hmm.. You have a point... So, you're saying the Czar, May Our Lord God Bless Him, is evil? Cau-"

"No! I never said that. I love the Czar--May Our Lord God Bless Him--and I would never dissendt against him. Im just saying, I think the rumors are right, and it scares me, to a degree, that The Patriarch has so much control over politics. I know he helped the Czar--May Our Lord God Bless Him--into power; but exactly how much power does The Patriarch have?"

"Well you know, The Patriarch does have some influence on politics and the laws, of course so does Father Redfairm and Father Townley. And, everyone within The Church knows that Father Redfairm has The Phineas Priesthood, and Father Townley has the WKC."

"Yes, yes, I know. But still, imagine it, a world-wide secret society of men capable of killing heretics and people denouncing The State and its Christian ideals. And, what if they ever suspected us of dissention? Like I said, I would never think of doing it, and I'm sure you wouldn't either, but still."

"No, I would never go against the Czar--May Our Lord God Bless Him. It would be betraying God, Country, and the fellow White man. But, anyway, Father Mayer, I really must be going. I told Mary I'd be home an hour ago. She's going to have my head."

"Oh--I'm so sorry, go go. Wouldn't want the Mrs' never cooking her wonderful lemon cream poundcake for me, now would I."

"Haha. No, that would be a tragedy!"

The two men stepped out of the beerhall,"Father Mayer, can I atleast pay for your fair back to Jessup Raion?"

"No, I'll be alright. But thank you none-the-less."

At that, Mayer got into a black cab, aswell did Ercke. Ercke's left first. Mayers pulled to the stoplight. He instructed the driver to take him to the ferry rather than the bridge. He decided he'd admire the wonderful sights for awhile. He'd told his wife he'd gone to meet a friend and wouldn't be back until eleven, it was only nine-thirty, so he decided to take his time.

OOC: Okay, basicly this is an intructory thread to Il Militis Christi. It's secret and semi-closed. If you want in on it, IM me on MSN, TG me, or post here telling me what your overall plan is and I'll see if I can find a spot for you. This will be character roleplay.

I would be quite interested in joining in on this RP as possibly a contract killer for the Patriarch who kills those who know too much.

Of course, I'm still sort of inexperienced when it comes to RPing, but I believe that I could help make this story more interesting and action-packed.

OOC: Do you happen to have MSN or ICQ so we can discuss this further?

Yea I do. It's hippikiller2@hotmail.com

West Belarus-East Belarus Border:
A young man, identified to be a Soviet guard pushed a elderly man, around his sixties, across the border into the arms of two men. The two men were both wearing identical clothing--black trench coat, black short-brimmed hat, black relaxed-fit suit with black pants. The two men quickly grasped him. "Thank you Comrade," answered one of the two, West-Belarusians. The Eastern guard nodded as he closed the gate. The two men turned dragging the gagged prisoner off into a back alley. They turned off to a metallic door, quickly opening it and pushing him inside. "Sit down!" one of the men barked. The prisoner did so.

One of the forboding men sat down infront of him, placing a thick file on the table. He opened it. Within it showed a picture of the prisoner who was now identified as Abraham Greimstein. "Hmm.. Greimstein.. So your a German-Jew, no? Ah! A practicing German-Jew. Says here you've had a hidden synogouge--or whatever the fuck they are--in your home for the past three years... What, did you think the Soviets weren't watching you?!" The man reached across the table, smacking the Rabbi hard across the side of his face.

"Now, if you're wondering, why do Fascian's care what happens in Soviet borders? Well, if you hadn't noticed, Soviet Bloc has just recently turned Fascist. Not to mention, The Holy Fascian Orthodox Church has just become nationalised, and the Soviets thought they'd have more fun with you. The Soviets have already killed your family. What? Thought you'd get over here, make some money, and immigrate them out of Soviet territory before we'd find you? Were the Il Militis Christi, not the fucking Bavarian Illuminati. We make killing you blasphemous bastards a priority. Now, I already have lists of your 'bretheren'--aka: your Jew buddies--and intend on taking care of them aswell. But, as for you... The answer is simple..."

The man stood up abruptly, withdrawing a Walther PPKA from his inner-suit pocket, firing the .45ACP round through the Jew's skull. Grey brain matter splattered against the blank cement wall behind him, carmine fluids soaking his form. The Militis left the room locking it...

Гетто, Russia:
In Гетто, a group of armed men dressed in all block clothing, holding TC-112 assault rifles had stormed the small village. The village was a haven for Jewish, and ironicly, Catholic socialists. Both felt wrong at the newly founded oppressive government of Soviet Bloc, but didn't have enough money to immigrate to other countries. They thought of running, but the Hayden Regime was helping Soviet Bloc by keeping its borders on lockdown while the new Fascist regime was taking hold. A rumor had gotten out from some East Belarusians, to West Belarusians, that right across the border into Soviet Bloc, a village--Гетто--was a breeding ground for powerful Jews who--in the older, communist regimes--had been known to have great politically leway. The the Czar--under advice from The Patriarch, who had just recently made the heirarchy of his 'Fighters for Christ', as he put it--allowed a branch of Il Militis Christi to journey to Soviet Bloc to investigate these heretics. Upon further investigation, it was proven that there was a large amount of Jewish and Papist (Catholic) revolt, thus, a military arm of Il Militis Christi was issued...

Now, back in Гетто, Il Militis Christi had seized the entire Jewish and Papist population of Гетто--roughly 300 men, women, and children--and marched them four miles to a local, stagnant tributary of the river Volga. The Militis were wearing, what can only be described as, black cloaks. The onyx attire was completely unmarked spare one of the men wearing a rather ornate cross. The man--Father Schnyder, a resident pastor of a Fascian Orthodox chapel in West Belarus. He was rather old to be a resident pastor, but he was a widower with no children--lead the group of Militis and prisoners to the tributary, carring his TC-112 ready to fire. Once he stopped, he barked out orders, telling the men to tie each of the prisoners into groups of four. Once this was accomplished, the undesirables were ordered to stand on the egde of the large rail-way bridge. "By Our Holy Lord And Savior, Jesus Christ, you have been deemed unfit to survive. As a White Pastor, it is my duty to execute you, and encourage others to do the same. Maggio Lucifer la divora senza fine per tutta l'eternità."

At the final letter, gunshots wrang through the forest. Suddenly, there was silence. Gentle splashes were heard by the Militis as the infidelic corpses hit the water, and were drug to the bottom to be devoured by carnivous beings of the river...