Industrial Experiment
12-03-2005, 07:17
On board a simple and quite obviously deteriorating Pulkr'e bulk transport cargo ship, one of the smallest classes of transport vessels, there were but ten men. The normal ship's crew, a total of 28 men, had disappeared sometime several months before, at least to the outside world. On Mainland, of course, they had become only several of thousands of new adherents to the Cult of the Purifying Flame. The ten men who had replaced, them, however, each was easily three times the man he had replaced. The tenth man, of course, was several orders of magnitudes greater.
In the deepest darks of the abandoned cargo hold was a hastily cleared space, from which eminated a single, flickering light. Upon closer inspection, one could ordain that it was, in fact, just a campfire. The oddness of a campfire being lit in the cargo hold of a tanker was of no concern to the man who had built it. He was currently hunched over it, seeming to be warming his hands, but it was hard to tell due to the over-large cloak and hood that covered every inch of his body and hid all of his features.
All of them except very eeriely glowing eyes.
The cargo ship, now plunging through a storm the likes of which Mainland hadn't seen for years but were apparently common place in the region, was slowly inching its way up through the Arabian Sea, pushing its way towards Iran. Due to the recent collapse of the colonial powers in charge of Iran, and her fellow nations of the United Arab Emirates and Oman, it had been decided that these nations would be a perfect launching point for the conversion of the world to the Cult.
Iran was the natural first stone. A people already used to religious devotion and, yes, extremism, it was deemed that it would be an easy task to convert a significant portion of the populace and...convince...the rest. From there, Iran would serve as a spring board into the UAE and Oman.
Now, however, the ship was still sailing the seas. The man in the cargo hold, nearly invisible but for the light provided by his meager fire, hadn't moved since he had boarded the vessel weeks ago. His nine subordinates could handle pretty much everything the sea could throw at them and, if they couldn't, he was within easy enough reaching distance.
So it was that, twenty hours after the fact, the ghost-like ship pulled into the port of Chabahar, one of the freeist areas in Iran, but still a hopelessly oppressed area when compared to the rest of the world.
Here it would begin, the nation of Iran was destined to be the first nation completely taken over by the Cult. The Flames of Purification were sparked, now they could only spread.
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5:00 AM, right after morning prayer, Chabahar, Iran
Gira Azod, an Irani merchant, was just gathering his prayer mat when the nine strange men and the single hooded figure entered the square. They were met with stares of speculation, for white men usually did not come out this early in Iran, especially white men who were obviously not Moslem. Gira, being a rather forward thinking man, began to make his way towards the men through the crowd of Irani men gathered for morning prayer. It took him a few minutes to reach the strangers, but he pulled up alongside them as they were making their way towards the front of the crowd.
He began to speak in a rather halted English but, as he continued, gained confidence, "Hello sirs. I am Gira Azod, why be you here during the early hour? This is time for worshippers of Allah to come pray to Him".
One of the nine un-cloaked men stopped and turned to face Gira. His eyes seemed almost blank at first, but as soon as he caught Gira's the fire behind them was plain to see. The man was completely bald and bare-chested, with only a loose pair of what closely resembled the lower half of a black gi, the same look the other eight sported.
After a moment of starring, something seemed to snap in the man's head, "Yes, we are here for a purpose. My Master would speak to the assembled crowd".
Wondering what the stranger could mean by this, it took Gira a moment to realize he would probably want to use the PA system that was used for leading prayer.
"Sir, you must speak with Aziz, he runs the speaker system. He will allow you to address the others".
"Very well, thank you...Gira. Your assistance shall be remembered".
With that, the stranger turned and rejoined his fellows, but now he was leading them, walking towards a nearby building from which the wires that were connected to all the speakers in the plaza. Upon reaching the building, they all stood a moment, as if conversing silently with each other. At last, the robed and hooded man entered the building alone.
He was in there several minutes before he emerged, followed by Aziz, who had jury-rigged a micro-phone with a long wire to allow the hooded figure to address the crowd over the loud-speakers. The figure made its way to a raised portion of the plaza, roughly at the center of the gathered worshippers, followed by his obvious underlings and, now, Aziz.
Aziz himself seemed to be in some kind of a trance, starring at the mysterious man with a mixture of adolation and horror. As they all reached the raised area, Aziz stopped at the edge and went to his knees, bowing in worship to the stranger. No one noticed, though, as all attention was riveted on the man now holding the microphone.
Silence reigned for a short time as everyone sub-conciously leaned in towards the platform in hopes of hearing what the man had to say.
In a sudden burst of motion, the man three his cloak off, revealing his features. Instantly, half the crowd was mortified, but the entire crowd was mollified. Without the stranger saying a word, the entire plaza was soon bowing before him.
The Lord smiled. His plan was going well.
Then, he spoke, "I am Lord Purgatto de Flamme, The Purifying Flame. I am your God now".
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Similar scenes played out across the city over the next week and, in the space of only several days, nearly half the population had found a new diety to worship in the form of Lord Purgatto. In a fortnight, three quarters of the city was under his thrall. By the time a month had passed, everyone had either converted or been slain or driven off by adherents.
It took only a few months afterward for the Cult's influence to spread across Iran and, by the time the winter that followed the Summer of Fire (as it was now called by the Irani people), nearly 90% of the nation now worshipped Lord Purgatto exclusively.
The wildfire of the Cult of the Purifying Flame had spread better than any mere forest fire. Within a year, Oman had been converted with equal success and the UAE was approached and recruited in the space of four months.
The fire that had been awakened on the Earth fourty years ago had finally begun to find new fuel, new blood, to further its burning.
In the deepest darks of the abandoned cargo hold was a hastily cleared space, from which eminated a single, flickering light. Upon closer inspection, one could ordain that it was, in fact, just a campfire. The oddness of a campfire being lit in the cargo hold of a tanker was of no concern to the man who had built it. He was currently hunched over it, seeming to be warming his hands, but it was hard to tell due to the over-large cloak and hood that covered every inch of his body and hid all of his features.
All of them except very eeriely glowing eyes.
The cargo ship, now plunging through a storm the likes of which Mainland hadn't seen for years but were apparently common place in the region, was slowly inching its way up through the Arabian Sea, pushing its way towards Iran. Due to the recent collapse of the colonial powers in charge of Iran, and her fellow nations of the United Arab Emirates and Oman, it had been decided that these nations would be a perfect launching point for the conversion of the world to the Cult.
Iran was the natural first stone. A people already used to religious devotion and, yes, extremism, it was deemed that it would be an easy task to convert a significant portion of the populace and...convince...the rest. From there, Iran would serve as a spring board into the UAE and Oman.
Now, however, the ship was still sailing the seas. The man in the cargo hold, nearly invisible but for the light provided by his meager fire, hadn't moved since he had boarded the vessel weeks ago. His nine subordinates could handle pretty much everything the sea could throw at them and, if they couldn't, he was within easy enough reaching distance.
So it was that, twenty hours after the fact, the ghost-like ship pulled into the port of Chabahar, one of the freeist areas in Iran, but still a hopelessly oppressed area when compared to the rest of the world.
Here it would begin, the nation of Iran was destined to be the first nation completely taken over by the Cult. The Flames of Purification were sparked, now they could only spread.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
5:00 AM, right after morning prayer, Chabahar, Iran
Gira Azod, an Irani merchant, was just gathering his prayer mat when the nine strange men and the single hooded figure entered the square. They were met with stares of speculation, for white men usually did not come out this early in Iran, especially white men who were obviously not Moslem. Gira, being a rather forward thinking man, began to make his way towards the men through the crowd of Irani men gathered for morning prayer. It took him a few minutes to reach the strangers, but he pulled up alongside them as they were making their way towards the front of the crowd.
He began to speak in a rather halted English but, as he continued, gained confidence, "Hello sirs. I am Gira Azod, why be you here during the early hour? This is time for worshippers of Allah to come pray to Him".
One of the nine un-cloaked men stopped and turned to face Gira. His eyes seemed almost blank at first, but as soon as he caught Gira's the fire behind them was plain to see. The man was completely bald and bare-chested, with only a loose pair of what closely resembled the lower half of a black gi, the same look the other eight sported.
After a moment of starring, something seemed to snap in the man's head, "Yes, we are here for a purpose. My Master would speak to the assembled crowd".
Wondering what the stranger could mean by this, it took Gira a moment to realize he would probably want to use the PA system that was used for leading prayer.
"Sir, you must speak with Aziz, he runs the speaker system. He will allow you to address the others".
"Very well, thank you...Gira. Your assistance shall be remembered".
With that, the stranger turned and rejoined his fellows, but now he was leading them, walking towards a nearby building from which the wires that were connected to all the speakers in the plaza. Upon reaching the building, they all stood a moment, as if conversing silently with each other. At last, the robed and hooded man entered the building alone.
He was in there several minutes before he emerged, followed by Aziz, who had jury-rigged a micro-phone with a long wire to allow the hooded figure to address the crowd over the loud-speakers. The figure made its way to a raised portion of the plaza, roughly at the center of the gathered worshippers, followed by his obvious underlings and, now, Aziz.
Aziz himself seemed to be in some kind of a trance, starring at the mysterious man with a mixture of adolation and horror. As they all reached the raised area, Aziz stopped at the edge and went to his knees, bowing in worship to the stranger. No one noticed, though, as all attention was riveted on the man now holding the microphone.
Silence reigned for a short time as everyone sub-conciously leaned in towards the platform in hopes of hearing what the man had to say.
In a sudden burst of motion, the man three his cloak off, revealing his features. Instantly, half the crowd was mortified, but the entire crowd was mollified. Without the stranger saying a word, the entire plaza was soon bowing before him.
The Lord smiled. His plan was going well.
Then, he spoke, "I am Lord Purgatto de Flamme, The Purifying Flame. I am your God now".
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Similar scenes played out across the city over the next week and, in the space of only several days, nearly half the population had found a new diety to worship in the form of Lord Purgatto. In a fortnight, three quarters of the city was under his thrall. By the time a month had passed, everyone had either converted or been slain or driven off by adherents.
It took only a few months afterward for the Cult's influence to spread across Iran and, by the time the winter that followed the Summer of Fire (as it was now called by the Irani people), nearly 90% of the nation now worshipped Lord Purgatto exclusively.
The wildfire of the Cult of the Purifying Flame had spread better than any mere forest fire. Within a year, Oman had been converted with equal success and the UAE was approached and recruited in the space of four months.
The fire that had been awakened on the Earth fourty years ago had finally begun to find new fuel, new blood, to further its burning.