Mekugi
08-05-2005, 06:56
[OOC Note: Im am highly bored, and just felt like having alittle fun that was a bit different than most of the RP out there on I at the moment. I would prefer to keep the atmosphere light, and with as few OOC rants as possible, over all this is entirely open to those willing to put some effort into a reply. ]
Capitol city of Carina, Democratic Peoples Republic of Mekugi, near Mount Claire
A crimson carpet, dark, and ragged from many years of wear, sat at the center of a cavernous granite hallway. The walls were likewise covered in draping tapestries that formed the main source of insulation and decoration interspaced with the occasional Sparkcaster fixture, its three prongs set half an inch or so apart created a fluttering white light softened only slightly by a curved piece of frosted glass that diffused the light ever so slightly. Though the nation had long since had light bulbs, LEDS and other modern technology, spark casters were considered holy things… a throw back to a bygone era, and hence why they adorned the massive hallway providing adequate light with which to read and interact with other senators. Today the halls were empty except for the occasional armed guard that stood near their respective posts the walls were solid granite, in fact the entire building was solid granite a single massive piece of granite hewn to fine tolerances by the miners, and later stone masons who had created the former temple, it was just how things were done in the republic, to find perfection in minimalism instead of extravagance.
The mountains had been here for ages and ages beyond memory, but the people were relatively new in comparison… first they had taken shelter in the caves… learned the craft of mining, and shaping stone, and then began to improve on what nature had given them… the temple that stood silently on a hill was truly the collaboration of three thousand years of isolated development, and technique, and it was truly something to behold… What fractures there were in the rock had been exploited, and exaggerated to form windows, doors, indoor streams, statues, columns, and what have you. There were such fine tolerances of the smoothing of the stone both inside and out from a distance the building seemed as if conjured from the bones of some massive beast splitting form from the earth.
This was not the only building of this type in the land… not by a long shot, digging, mining, and art ran in the peoples blood, they were by no means serious fighter, aggressive when cornered, but in all honesty they had never really had to, their homes sat totally surrounded by fierce Seas and locked in ices one half of the year, the summer bringing only mud and rain to the imposing landscape. The Island sub continent of Mekugi had been formed eons ago and now rested as a geographic depression in once highly seismically active area home to collisions of tectonic plates that had sat dormant since the last ice age, and… for the moment… had been the definitive quiet artist community. Stone craft, Science, and Metal crafting dominated the peoples time.
The Repulic is a diverse, and intelligent nation whose inhabitants grew up in tight nit communities that usually sold their metal, stone, and wood worked products to the farmers every now and then in the markets, though a good source of trade for the communities, it rarely meant any political interaction between the nations, and there was little enforcement of the borders except by the ring of cloud topped mountains and shear cliffs that fell into an angry Antarctic seas that encircled, and harbored the nation.
The elected officials were -for the most part- complacent, and laidback, except for one man. Donovan Alexander, the Praetor of the Democratic Peoples Republic of Mekugi, was worried, and rightly so. The six foot man in his late thirties had promised the small and rugged nation of craftsman, inventors, and farmers, changes… something easier said then done with little political connection.
Standing up he began to pace back and forth in the lavish wood panel covering the stone walls, lost in thoughts, and regrets on his promise. In the three years he had been in office he’d done a fair amount in comparison to his predecessors, but the Schismatic party was demanding more…they were not reverent to the old ways, and kept threatening rebellion if their terms were not met, and his promises did little to quell there passion for change. His mind settled on an idea that worried him slightly, and it would take the senate by surprise, but he knew he had little room for option, He MUST open his borders to the world or face the consequences of his promises falling short.
“Alright I’ll do it…” he said to a female figure standing silently in the corner as Praetor Alexander collapsed defeated by his mental battles and contemplations “ You realize ‘liza that there is no turning back now, to take this stance we are risking everything we have fought for, Padua will not be--” .
“I’ll take care of It Don, no need to worry…” Eliza Meraz of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs interrupted abruptly and bowed reverently to the Praetor before opening the door walking out of the lavish office and onto the worn crimson carpet the a guard closing the door behind her as she walked off, leaving Alexander in his office face down on his desk. The People of Mekugi, Donovan being no exception, always treated major changes with slight suspicion and opening up their tiny nation to international conversation and trade was something that had worried him… but how the Cathedral of Padua would respond was something that had plagued his dreams, and his waking hours.
RCNN- Republican Central News Network 10:00 pm Local Issues
“In a stunning announcement today the Praetor overturned a ruling by the republican senate that would continue to allow hereditary titles to be continued on in the senate ending almost three hundred years of noble rule within the senate. This is a major upset to the almost two hundred and fifty noble birth senators caused a minor riot in government offices across the country as Praetor Alexander made his annoucement today that birthright alone should not prevent the people from choosing their represenetive in the senate.
This announcement comes as no surprise to a large amount of political correspondents after the lord Michael affair which ended up with six prostitutes, a goat and a midget were found dead in a compromising position due to a drug overdose.
In other news Jim Jacksons the infamous political stairist new books ‘CtP verbally abuses the Empire‘, and ‘My catfish is overdone’ are now both on the best seller lists with over one mill--”
Racal Monastery, Forestae
Abbot Kamara and two acolytes all dressed in long crimson robes Walked down the long dimly lit stone passageway one of hundreds that cut deep in Mount Claudaugh into a near fortress. Making his way deeper, and deeper into the passageways following a route few knew, and even fewer could remember coming to a large metal door its hinges bolted directly into the rock a circular lock set flush with its surface of the metal door was engraved with a flowing design of serpents and swords radiating from its center. The Abbot Placed three fingers on the design corresponding with three of the snakes heads and rotated it slowly a series of clicks, squeaks, and groans came from the inside of the door as it slowly unlocked and swung open with a creak of unoiled hinges. Revealing a pulpit of stone fringed with projections of amethyst and illuminated from above by a slowly tapering skylight that traveled several hundred feet to the surface lighting up a large metal covered book with a similar looking lock as the door frame sat on the pulpit dusty hanging in the air of the nearly ancient store room.
“Careful young acolytes the tome is not one to be under estimated, remove it from the pulpit and prepare it for its journey… the Cathedral has need of it…” The abbots words were slow, and steady as if the book were about to jump alive and consume them all… which from the rumors the abbot had heard in his many years of guarding it might not be far from the truth…
The acolytes did as they were told, and with the utmost caution removed the book and secured it in a red velvet bad before following the abbot out of the storeroom silently.
Two days later The Cathedral of Padua, Mount Padua
Setting near the exact center of the of the country sat a Cathedral of monstrous proportions the remnants of a once massive mountain had been shaped over the last two hundred or so years into a massive structure, that stood as the foundation of Mekugian Science, and Religion.
At its gargantuan entrance young boys sold white cloths to pilgrims, and priests as they walked in they were greeted by a waste high brass bowl spinning slowly a cleansing cloth sat at four points and wiped the sharpened edge clean. regularly pilgrims reached out and pressed their fingers or palms against the edge, its sharpened rim cutting deeply as their blood trickled down the sides of the bowl and washed down a central hole at the bottom the pilgrims using the small strip they had purchased outside the cathedral to cover the wound as the continued deeper into the temple content with their tithe of blood as they entered deeper into the temple to pray. Though the Anchrish religion was now only as minor majority of followers it had once commanded it had controlled the nation secretly for hundreds of years.
Stepping past the flow of Pilgrims stood Abbot Kamara his tattered and faded red cloak concealing his identity and the tome in its bag slung over his shoulder pushed past the crowd and silently entered a small side room. Were several priests, and abbots stood waiting.
“Do you have it?” most of them asked inquisitively
“Yes brothers, I have brought the tome from its protection as asked… ” He said hesitantly a bit shy, but deep down he was terrified, as to what the Cathedral intended its use for… surely such a relic would not be called out of centuries of protection with out the dire need of its use. “But why brothers? Surely you don’t mean to open it?!” the abbot realized his rising pitch, and tried to keep his voice down.
A man in the back stepped forward and pulled back his hood revealing a short trimmed salt and pepper style goatee, he was powerful figure, though the Abbot had never seen him before. “Give us the book and you can go back to your monastery… this issue need not concern you…”
The abbot was awe struck, who was this man, and who was he to order an Abbot of the Order of Padua about “ Now listen here! I don’t know who you are but I report to the Bishop, and the bishop alone! I should have you Arrest--” but before the abbot could respond one of the other abbots stepped over and whispered in his ear. Abbot Kamara’s eyes went wide with shock, as he bowed humbly. “my Apologies your Eminence…”
Kamara swung the satchel from off his shoulder and placed it on the table, turned and walked off not believing he had almost told the Arch Bishop where he could stick it…
“Gentlemen, Brothers, and Acolytes; the Praetor has decided that our hold on this nation is to be brushed aside and to allow the sin of the world into our home… I for one don’t feel we should stand for such undermining tactics… and within this book lies the goal to the continued purity of the Order…” The Archbishop smiled, and ran his hands over the velvet satchel.
Capitol city of Carina, Democratic Peoples Republic of Mekugi, near Mount Claire
A crimson carpet, dark, and ragged from many years of wear, sat at the center of a cavernous granite hallway. The walls were likewise covered in draping tapestries that formed the main source of insulation and decoration interspaced with the occasional Sparkcaster fixture, its three prongs set half an inch or so apart created a fluttering white light softened only slightly by a curved piece of frosted glass that diffused the light ever so slightly. Though the nation had long since had light bulbs, LEDS and other modern technology, spark casters were considered holy things… a throw back to a bygone era, and hence why they adorned the massive hallway providing adequate light with which to read and interact with other senators. Today the halls were empty except for the occasional armed guard that stood near their respective posts the walls were solid granite, in fact the entire building was solid granite a single massive piece of granite hewn to fine tolerances by the miners, and later stone masons who had created the former temple, it was just how things were done in the republic, to find perfection in minimalism instead of extravagance.
The mountains had been here for ages and ages beyond memory, but the people were relatively new in comparison… first they had taken shelter in the caves… learned the craft of mining, and shaping stone, and then began to improve on what nature had given them… the temple that stood silently on a hill was truly the collaboration of three thousand years of isolated development, and technique, and it was truly something to behold… What fractures there were in the rock had been exploited, and exaggerated to form windows, doors, indoor streams, statues, columns, and what have you. There were such fine tolerances of the smoothing of the stone both inside and out from a distance the building seemed as if conjured from the bones of some massive beast splitting form from the earth.
This was not the only building of this type in the land… not by a long shot, digging, mining, and art ran in the peoples blood, they were by no means serious fighter, aggressive when cornered, but in all honesty they had never really had to, their homes sat totally surrounded by fierce Seas and locked in ices one half of the year, the summer bringing only mud and rain to the imposing landscape. The Island sub continent of Mekugi had been formed eons ago and now rested as a geographic depression in once highly seismically active area home to collisions of tectonic plates that had sat dormant since the last ice age, and… for the moment… had been the definitive quiet artist community. Stone craft, Science, and Metal crafting dominated the peoples time.
The Repulic is a diverse, and intelligent nation whose inhabitants grew up in tight nit communities that usually sold their metal, stone, and wood worked products to the farmers every now and then in the markets, though a good source of trade for the communities, it rarely meant any political interaction between the nations, and there was little enforcement of the borders except by the ring of cloud topped mountains and shear cliffs that fell into an angry Antarctic seas that encircled, and harbored the nation.
The elected officials were -for the most part- complacent, and laidback, except for one man. Donovan Alexander, the Praetor of the Democratic Peoples Republic of Mekugi, was worried, and rightly so. The six foot man in his late thirties had promised the small and rugged nation of craftsman, inventors, and farmers, changes… something easier said then done with little political connection.
Standing up he began to pace back and forth in the lavish wood panel covering the stone walls, lost in thoughts, and regrets on his promise. In the three years he had been in office he’d done a fair amount in comparison to his predecessors, but the Schismatic party was demanding more…they were not reverent to the old ways, and kept threatening rebellion if their terms were not met, and his promises did little to quell there passion for change. His mind settled on an idea that worried him slightly, and it would take the senate by surprise, but he knew he had little room for option, He MUST open his borders to the world or face the consequences of his promises falling short.
“Alright I’ll do it…” he said to a female figure standing silently in the corner as Praetor Alexander collapsed defeated by his mental battles and contemplations “ You realize ‘liza that there is no turning back now, to take this stance we are risking everything we have fought for, Padua will not be--” .
“I’ll take care of It Don, no need to worry…” Eliza Meraz of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs interrupted abruptly and bowed reverently to the Praetor before opening the door walking out of the lavish office and onto the worn crimson carpet the a guard closing the door behind her as she walked off, leaving Alexander in his office face down on his desk. The People of Mekugi, Donovan being no exception, always treated major changes with slight suspicion and opening up their tiny nation to international conversation and trade was something that had worried him… but how the Cathedral of Padua would respond was something that had plagued his dreams, and his waking hours.
RCNN- Republican Central News Network 10:00 pm Local Issues
“In a stunning announcement today the Praetor overturned a ruling by the republican senate that would continue to allow hereditary titles to be continued on in the senate ending almost three hundred years of noble rule within the senate. This is a major upset to the almost two hundred and fifty noble birth senators caused a minor riot in government offices across the country as Praetor Alexander made his annoucement today that birthright alone should not prevent the people from choosing their represenetive in the senate.
This announcement comes as no surprise to a large amount of political correspondents after the lord Michael affair which ended up with six prostitutes, a goat and a midget were found dead in a compromising position due to a drug overdose.
In other news Jim Jacksons the infamous political stairist new books ‘CtP verbally abuses the Empire‘, and ‘My catfish is overdone’ are now both on the best seller lists with over one mill--”
Racal Monastery, Forestae
Abbot Kamara and two acolytes all dressed in long crimson robes Walked down the long dimly lit stone passageway one of hundreds that cut deep in Mount Claudaugh into a near fortress. Making his way deeper, and deeper into the passageways following a route few knew, and even fewer could remember coming to a large metal door its hinges bolted directly into the rock a circular lock set flush with its surface of the metal door was engraved with a flowing design of serpents and swords radiating from its center. The Abbot Placed three fingers on the design corresponding with three of the snakes heads and rotated it slowly a series of clicks, squeaks, and groans came from the inside of the door as it slowly unlocked and swung open with a creak of unoiled hinges. Revealing a pulpit of stone fringed with projections of amethyst and illuminated from above by a slowly tapering skylight that traveled several hundred feet to the surface lighting up a large metal covered book with a similar looking lock as the door frame sat on the pulpit dusty hanging in the air of the nearly ancient store room.
“Careful young acolytes the tome is not one to be under estimated, remove it from the pulpit and prepare it for its journey… the Cathedral has need of it…” The abbots words were slow, and steady as if the book were about to jump alive and consume them all… which from the rumors the abbot had heard in his many years of guarding it might not be far from the truth…
The acolytes did as they were told, and with the utmost caution removed the book and secured it in a red velvet bad before following the abbot out of the storeroom silently.
Two days later The Cathedral of Padua, Mount Padua
Setting near the exact center of the of the country sat a Cathedral of monstrous proportions the remnants of a once massive mountain had been shaped over the last two hundred or so years into a massive structure, that stood as the foundation of Mekugian Science, and Religion.
At its gargantuan entrance young boys sold white cloths to pilgrims, and priests as they walked in they were greeted by a waste high brass bowl spinning slowly a cleansing cloth sat at four points and wiped the sharpened edge clean. regularly pilgrims reached out and pressed their fingers or palms against the edge, its sharpened rim cutting deeply as their blood trickled down the sides of the bowl and washed down a central hole at the bottom the pilgrims using the small strip they had purchased outside the cathedral to cover the wound as the continued deeper into the temple content with their tithe of blood as they entered deeper into the temple to pray. Though the Anchrish religion was now only as minor majority of followers it had once commanded it had controlled the nation secretly for hundreds of years.
Stepping past the flow of Pilgrims stood Abbot Kamara his tattered and faded red cloak concealing his identity and the tome in its bag slung over his shoulder pushed past the crowd and silently entered a small side room. Were several priests, and abbots stood waiting.
“Do you have it?” most of them asked inquisitively
“Yes brothers, I have brought the tome from its protection as asked… ” He said hesitantly a bit shy, but deep down he was terrified, as to what the Cathedral intended its use for… surely such a relic would not be called out of centuries of protection with out the dire need of its use. “But why brothers? Surely you don’t mean to open it?!” the abbot realized his rising pitch, and tried to keep his voice down.
A man in the back stepped forward and pulled back his hood revealing a short trimmed salt and pepper style goatee, he was powerful figure, though the Abbot had never seen him before. “Give us the book and you can go back to your monastery… this issue need not concern you…”
The abbot was awe struck, who was this man, and who was he to order an Abbot of the Order of Padua about “ Now listen here! I don’t know who you are but I report to the Bishop, and the bishop alone! I should have you Arrest--” but before the abbot could respond one of the other abbots stepped over and whispered in his ear. Abbot Kamara’s eyes went wide with shock, as he bowed humbly. “my Apologies your Eminence…”
Kamara swung the satchel from off his shoulder and placed it on the table, turned and walked off not believing he had almost told the Arch Bishop where he could stick it…
“Gentlemen, Brothers, and Acolytes; the Praetor has decided that our hold on this nation is to be brushed aside and to allow the sin of the world into our home… I for one don’t feel we should stand for such undermining tactics… and within this book lies the goal to the continued purity of the Order…” The Archbishop smiled, and ran his hands over the velvet satchel.