NationStates Jolt Archive

The Citadel, Urbus Doomanus, Imperium Doomanum

He was alone in the dungeon that was his mind. He lie there in his death bed, one of the most powerfull men on the planet. A man who had commanded mighty armies, who had killed literally billions of people in the name of his God. In his years, he had forged a vast Empire from virtually nothing. At eight-six years of age, he was a tired old man. Weary from war, weary from governing. Weary from living.

Even as he lay there dying, he still clutched his sword tensely, which sat upon his armored chest. He had kicked his doctors out of the room a few hours ago in order to spend time with his wife, Empress Anja, and his ten children. They had reminicsed of their time together and of past glories, of great and noble deeds.

Of the times he had totally purged the Empire of that vile belief known as communism, of times he had, on a mere whim, totally destroyed entire nations and enslaved their people. He made it perfectly clear he had no regrets about his life. He had accomplished what entire armies of men could not accomplish in a thousand years in his lifetime.

And now he left his life achievement, his Empire, to his son, Maximus. Emperor Helldawg V still considered him a mere boy, even though he was now thirty-three years old. He was his first son, and therefore the clear heir to the throne. Well, his first legitimate son, at least.

He was a beast of a man, standing at six-foot nine and very muscular. It was this man that had brough the Empire onto the world's stage by defeating the Sarzonians in the Inkanan War. He was a proud warrior, although there were some that may have disagreed with his ascension. For one, he was half-Generian, not of pure Doomani blood. He also was not much of a politician, at least as far as anyone could tell. His brother Marius, on the other hand, was seen to be an outstanding statesman.

Maximus was a rather simple man, a soldier by birth. He had known nothing but hardship most of his life, and that had hardened him to a level his siblings could not even imagine. It was for this reason that his father had chosen him without question. This was a man that knew what it was like to take a few bullets to the chest and keep swinging your sword, for he had been there. He also knew how to lead armies better than any other man in the whole Empire. He could inspire men to do tasks that otherwise would be unthinkable. He could lead and follow. He was perfect for this last task his father had left him.

Caesar's chambers had been emptied, now. Only Maximus remained at his father's side. He was covered from the neck down in gleaming black armor, his blade at his side. He was down on one knee beside his father, totally silent. His scarred, hardened face conveyed no emotion, his brown eyes staring at the winkled old face of his father, totally attentive.

The old man spoke in a weazy voice, "You have been trained well, my son," he managed before he was overcome by coughing.

Maximus offered his father a glass of water, but that was shoved aside.

"My son, I am dying. In fact, from what the doctors have told me..." he smiled a bit, "I should be dead within the hour."

Caesar seemed totally unconcerned with his own fate, only smiling as he spoke of his own death. It was uncanny.

"Father..." Maximus began tediously "I have served you my whole life...what would you have me do?"

He had long awaited this moment. The moment when his father would fall. Yet when the moment came, even mighty Maximus found himself caught offguard.

"Maximus Alexius Doomanus..." Caesar spoke in a tone of total seriousness, placing his bony old hand on Maximus' forehead, "You have proven yourself through a life of unflinching loyalty and self-sacrifice in the name of the Empire and Jesus Christ. You have stood out among all other men as the greatest of warriors and generals..." he coughed as he reached for something on his bed, managing the strength to pull a gold-encrusted black marble box onto his lap.

Opening it, he withdrew the object it contained.

It was a golden crown, his own. At the center was a polished golden skull, a cross protruding from the top. The crown itself was designed to look like a laural in the Roman fashion. Maximus nearly fell back as his father placed it upon his head, weazing as he did so.

"Maximus, you are Emperor..." were Caesar's last words as he fell back against the bed, silent, and ceased living.

Maximus waited a few seconds before rising and closing his dead father's eyes.

The tall oaken doors at the end of the room were cast open as doctors and family members swarmed in. The Emperor's vitals had gone dead, and they moved in to see what happened.

Maximus turned to face them and they all stopped dead seeing the crown on his head. Standing, he was the biggest in the room. His guilded black armor and grown seemed to create an aura around him, the golden cross emblazened on his brest plate only magnifying that. His new subjects fell to their knees before him, seeming to forget about the man that now lay dead in his bed.

"Rise..."

OOC: ...What!? But he can't die!

ze tag

Today was not your average day in MassPwnage. For one, it was clear and sunny. This alone was not normal, because it was the rainier season. There hadn’t been a single sunny day in the rainier season in recent memory. People looked up at the blue skies and wondered just what the hell was going on.

Pwnage Defense Minister Marcel Han also wondered just what the hell was going on, but not because it was sunny outside, but because a large, beefy looking man in a suit of black and gold armor had just run up to him and hugged him in glee. Nearby, other men in black and gold armor were dancing around in circles to a gigantic speaker system spewing forth the loud noises of black and death metal. All of them were pretty well liquored up, there were the golden amber bottles of Pwnage Maotai and obsidian bottles of Generian Black Death Vodka strewn all over the street. Some of them had rifles out. They sent entire magazines worth of tracers up into the air on full auto, white streaks flying across the blue heavens. There were other men, in the sleek, jet black parade armor worn by Pwnage soldiers. They too were firing into the air, screaming wordless joy at the top of their lungs like savage men. Some of them waved the Doomish flag, others had it draped across them.

Why was the Pwnage Doomish community holding such an unplanned celebration at six in the morning? Marcel’s bodyguards just shrugged.

The man that had just hugged Marcel let go and screamed “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HEEEEEELLLLLL YEEEAAAA!” at the top of his lungs before he drew a pistol from his belt holster and began firing it into the air.

“Umm… excuse me… what’s this all about?” asked a baffled Marcel.

The man stopped firing his pistol into the air just long enough to shove the morning paper into Marcel’s face.

“WHOA! Dude…. Fuckin’ Helldawg’s kicked the bucket!” a shocked expression crept up onto Marcel… well, not crept, more like lunged upon his face like an entire pride of lions pouncing upon a single antelope. Marcel quickly digested the article before continuing on his way.

When Marcel got into the conference room, everybody else at the table gave him a nod, besides one of them, the young hybrid woman with fiery red eyes and hard fangs beneath perfect lips.

“You’re late Marcel.”

“Sorry, I just got some news Maia.”

“Like what?”

“Our favorite Catholic nutjob is dead.”

“What?”

Marcel nodded.

“But… she seemed so young.” Maia seemed rather shocked.

“Maia, who are you talking about?”

“Wait, you mean Christina Aguilera isn’t dead?”

“I was talking about Helldawg.”

“You just found out that out Marcel? I thought you read the email.”

“Well… I… I didn’t check my email last night.”

“Who replied to it then?”

“Remind me to kill my daughter when I get back home.”

“Consider it done. Well, now that you know why we’re all here, what do you think?”

“Well, to be truthful, not much at all”, Marcel took a seat, “Helldawg would have picked the son most like him to be Emperor. I’m guessing its Maximus.”

“You guessed correctly. Maximus is the new emperor of Doomingsland.”

“Well, then we can relax.”

“No, no we can’t Marcel. Maximus might rebel against his father’s policies, he might just be unpredictable, and he has a way with people that his father never had. His first action as Emperor would probably be to declare war on everyone and everything, maybe just to prove himself.”

“Do we have to deploy in support of another crazy Doomish crusade against… whatever?”

“No Marcel, no we don’t. All we’re going to send him right now is a basket of fruit.”

“And?”

“Nothing else. Not now in any case.”

“Fair enough. And if he overreacts?”
“He won’t. He needs us.”

“And can anybody explain what’s going on with the Doomies here today? Seriously, they’re usually not like this.”

This time, it was Aman Abd Fajr, Minister of Demographic Affairs that spoke.

“Well Marcel, think of it like this: The Doomish in MassPwnage are here for a reason. Otherwise they would have stayed in their deserts and never come over. Obviously, they don’t feel much loyalty towards the home country. It’s like how homophobes would celebrate if Mike Sarzo died.”

“Oh, right. Right.”

~*~*~*~
Sometime later, Emperor Maximus would get a basket of fruit delivered to him. It wouldn’t be anything fancy… just a basket of fruit. The same sort that MassPwnage delivered to every other newly minted leader on these sorts of occasions. If Maximus wanted anything else, he had to prove himself worthy.

Najaster, Capital of Kahanistan

Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Margaret Delray, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, was on a trip in Xirnium. However, she had exchanged e-mail with Deputy Foreign Minister Mohammed Hassan ibn Malik, who was currently sitting in the Foreign Minister's office. She knew of the death of Helldawg, but urged Ibn Malik to allow some time for the funeral to take place and the new Emperor to grieve and adjust to the changes before pushing matters of state upon him.

A few days after the initial international response died down, Ibn Malik wrote to the Government of Doomingsland.

DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN
Ministry of Foreign Affairs

The Government of Kahanistan wishes to know what the policies of the new Emperor Maximus will be, in regard to domestic affairs and also foreign policy toward the Soviet Republic.

Signed,
Mohammed Hassan ibn Malik,
Deputy Foreign Minister

OOC:I'll respond to both you guys once I RP Maximus' first big uber dictator speach at the funeral.

Castle Von Wolf, north-western Romania, the Dominion

It was a quiet day until the news of the death of Emperor Helldawg V came through the castle radio system. A proud warrior like Helldawg dieing as an old man. Strange how the world works. Helldawg, man that the Count like and treated him like his own blood. Well, Helldawg never knew that because the Count never show it.

When the news of the death hit the large onyx desk of the Count, the only thing he could say was…“Oh Hell, the dawg has die. Damn, I’m going to out live all of them. J.L., the Shah, and every one of them” He pulled up the sons of Emperor Helldawg V and found out which would be the next Emperor.

“Maximus Alexius Doomanus.” he said out loud. “The best man for the job.”

Then the Count got to work and send a message to Maximus.

------------------------

I’m sorry about the way for your father died. A man like him should have die in honorable battle over dieing as an old man. Emperor Helldawg V will be missed by me and the rest of the Dominion. I will have my jet ready to come to your empire, so I can be at the funeral of a man that was a good friend to me.

I will see you there, Emperor Maximus.

Signed,
Count JWolf
The God-Emperor of the Dominion.

--------------------

About two hours later, the Count was aboard one of his private jet heading toward Imperium Doomanum. In the back of his mind, he was thinking who would die next and what Maxius would do as the new Emperor.

Bhalk walked over towards the waiting attendant and gave him his large claymore. Behind him lay several dead Shoobans, they just didn’t give the flare they used to in a 10 on 1 fight to the death. Wiping his face of blood and sweat Bhalk replaced a face towel on a golden try an took a swig of Justice Pale Ale from another tray. Stretching out his arms he accidentally smacked a silent man waiting behind him.

“Well what the hell, you gotta speak up if don’t want to be hit in the face.”

“Sorry sir. News from Doomingsland.”

“Eh? More war I presume.”

Bhalk took the folded paper from the man’s hand and unfolded it and began reading it with a single motion. As his eyes moved down the page the light smile on his face, always brought on by war, began to slope and curve down until his mouth fell open a little bit. His eyes slowly bloomed open as his entire arms began to shake, the paper going up and down in front of the man’s face. Bhalk suddenly felt his knees wobble and put himself down on the nearest chair.

“I…I…get me…ummm…Ok…Get me a messa…message to send and the…a…uh….my plate.”

“Plate sir?”

“Plane, sorry.”

Official Imperial Communique:

To: The New Emperor Maximus Alexius Doomanus
From: Chancellor Licinius

I was recently informed of the sad news that your father passed away. He was a great man leaving behind a legacy that only few can ever hope to match. I will be on my way shortly to attend the funeral and afterwards I suggest we sit down to meal, merriment, and discussion on how you would like our relationship to be.

End Transmission

OOC: Tag...I will rp something when I get the chance.

King Nellis sat back in his newly remodeled office checking his emails for anything interesting...

"...Debt Consolidation....Enlarge...Reminder to met with the Council...Doomingsland leader Helldawg dies, son takes over...Debt Consolidation...wait...what the hell was that."

The King opened the file and much to his dismay and delight read it. Wow, this could be interesting...

OOC: Tag...I will rp something when I get the chance.
[OOC: Me too!]

The new leader of the United Military State of Xharn was sitting in his private office in the Grand National Palace. He had just left the National Chancellery and had begun reading various intelligence files brought to him by the External Intelligence Agency.

The EIA had submitted several reports and one of them had already caught Patron Joseph Stormberg's eye. It was a report about the Imperium Doomanum. The report stated about the death of the Emperor and a bit about his successor Maximus Alexius Doomanus.

The Patron Joseph Stromberg wanted to meet these people. They had managed to build a strong international presence and expand their faith across the globe. It seemed only fitting to learn from them and try and make an alliance with their new Emperor.

Patron Joseph Stormberg sent a message to bring Grand Ambassador Namato to his presence immediately. His Excellency was going to send a personal message to Emperor Maximus Alexius Doomanus.


Official State Directive......

The United Military State of Xharn
The Ministry of Foreign Relations

I am terribly sorry to hear about the untimely death of your father. I hear he was a great man that managed to crush the infidels and corrupting influence of communism. I myself have begun to purge my own nation from this filth that plagues my Fatherland. I was hoping to attend the funeral of this great man that has inspire me to continue my fight to bring an end to the religious decadents that plagues my own homeland.



Signed,

The Patron Joseph Stormberg
His Excellency, The Patron of the Fatherland.

OOC: Oh eye!! Thought i might as well post and get ICly in your sights(hopefully in a nice way).

IC:

[i]It had been a long day for President Roberts, what with conflict and foreign issue poping up on his plate all the time. He had his navy mobilising submarines in preparedness for a possible nuclear attack, foreign officials hoping to send aid to a nation with a suspected terrorist threat on its hands and to top it all off he was heading a treaty conference to try and resolve peace between two powerful sides.

Now he just wanted to go bed and ponder upon the day, but as he stepped into his car a sheet of paper headed "Doomingsland" was shoved into his hands. Alas, it was news of the emperors death. Although he knew little of doominsgland he had a deep respect for them, for he knew Sarzonia to be a great nation whom Hotdogs2 often purchased navy ships from and yet here was an emperor who had defeated them...And so it was that he scribbled down a direct Communique to be sent to Maximus, the new emperor of Doomingsland.

Hotdogs2 Communique

Dear Sir,

We deeply regret to hear of your fathers untimely death and wish to make our sadness known to you as you step up to take his great place. He was a strong man who sturck fear into many peoples heaarts and this day must be a sad one for you. However we wish also to acknowledge your new power and hope that this will lead to new ties with your nation.

Regards,

[Signed]
President Roberts

OOC:Everyone who wants to send people to the funeral just assume they're there already, I'll have a monster post with the funeral and Maximus' first speach sometime today, I'll RP all your people as being at the funeral.

OOC: Ok, do you need to know names?

If so i'll send Vice-Minister Michael Winters to it, plus a few security personnel but nothing big.

OOC: Ok

OOC: That is ok with me. I will send Patron Stormberg and several Death Korps Legionaries to be his personal bodyguards.

St. Michael's Square, Urbus Doomanus

The scene arrayed before the national leaders and diplomats that had arrived to pay their respects to the fallen Emperor was absolutely breathtaking. Seated upon a balcony high above the square where the previous monarch had preached to the masses, they were treated to a grand view below.

The square, upon which the Palace of Justice, Sentate, Inquisitional Headquarters, the mighty Cathedral of St. Michael (within which the proper ceremonies had already occured), and numerous other key government structures were located, was absolutely packed with mourners and soldiers. Millions of them. Amassed before them within the square were countless Imperator tanks, painted up in their grey parade colors, seemingly hundreds of massive, neat blocks of soldiers standing at perfect attention amongst the crowds. Clad in their parade armor, one could have been blinded from the shimmering aura of their black and gold armor, the polished silver of their bayonets and swords, their standards hoisted high above the vast cohorts of the Imperium.

However, there were not only soldiers. Regular imperial citizens, far outnumbering the already vast numbers of soldiers, filled the square around the formations of soldiers. Carrying portraits of their beloved former leader, signs declaring their sorrow and support for their new Emperor, and crosses. Millions of crosses.

The cacophonous roar below was continuous and unending; it was almost like a strange music.

Of course, for the important individuals seated in the balcony along with Maximus' brother and personal advisor, Marius, there was someone missing. The Emperor was nowhere to be seen. They had not seen him at all since they had arrived.

Suddenly, there was silence. Dead silence. Not even a baby cried. It was surreal, the millions of Doomingslanders suddenly struck mute. Then it all became obvious to the men on the balcony high above.

Slowly and soberly marching from the Cathedral's entrance were eight men carrying a large golden coffin. All of them were obviously mighty warriors; close friends of the former Emperor. One of these mighty men stood out amongst them all. He was a towering figure clad from neck to toe in finely polished black and gold armor, a golden cross emblazened on his brest plate, a gladius hanging by his side. He bore both the likeness of his fearsome father and his Generian mother, the Empress. As the column came to a halt, they lowered the coffin onto a large golden and obsidian table at the foot of the Cathedral's steps. The warrior that had been leading them, now obviously none other than Maximus himself, stepped away from his father's casket, onto the steps above his comrades, and turned to face the people. All that could be heard were the clanking of his footsteps. In a mighty roar, he called to his masses:

“Citizens, friends, countrymen, I stand above the coffin of a great leader. A leader who was more than a man; who was a king. The Emperor Helldawg V, may he rest in peace, led this nation into a new era, an era where the simple mention of our great Empire’s name brought a shudder to the spine of the world’s other occupants, the unenlightened and heathen masses, who had good reason to fear our might. It was an era where we stood shoulder to shoulder in brotherhood with our allies, the great nations of the CAD, who fought with us time and time again these past years to accelerate our glorification. It was an era of great achievements on the world’s battlefields, where enemies fled blindly at the sight of our great legionnaires. Several great victories come to mind: the defeat of the Sarzonian infidels during the Inkanan war, the liberation of Generia from the hands of the junta and the restoration of the great Alexian dynasty, ViZion, Sovieten; the list continues. These campaigns made our nations great, our legions renowned, and our name feared across the continents and in the hearts of infidels the world over!

But it was not war alone that this great man, my father, brought to this nation. No! His leadership strengthened our nation through faith, and loyalty, rooted out the dissenting traitors, heathens, infidels. He brought back the cross as well as the sword, and wielded both to make our nation into a bastion of unity and strength. He brought this nation strong allies, who shared our vision and our hatred for the infidel souls. Generia, Freudotopia, Borman, all names worthy of respect for their unflinching loyalty to the CAD.

But as with all men, great or common, his time has run out, for he was still subject to the cruel timeframe that the Lord gives us all. With his passing, I ascend to the throne, and I swear to you now one thing: that his legacy will not die with his physical body, but will live on in me, and with his eternal soul!”

The shouts of the crowd were deafening, but as the new Doomani Imperator raised his hands for peace, there was utter silence.

“My brethren, we stand on the verge of a new era! As my father brought greatness to our Imperium so it shall be with me at the helm! I promise you a world where the name of this Empire will continue to ascend, and where our star will blaze brightly for one thousand years! A world where our armies will bring war to the infidels who would dare stand up to our might, and where not only the nobility of our nation, but the glory of our faith will advance with them!

Doomingslanders! You stand before me here, proud as your ancestors, with your heads held high and your faces turned to the sun! I swear to you my sovereign oath; that as long as I rule this nation, your faces will not fall away, for your kingdom is not only here on earth, but above you!”

The response was immediate. The once deafening, unruly sound of the horde swiftly began to change over to an almost harmonious sounding chant.

"HAIL CAESAR!"

St. Michael's Square, Urbus Doomanus

The Count relaxed in his balcony‘s seat, looking out at the soldiers and civilian in the area. He rolled a cigar in his fingers as he looked. He was dressed as normal, his black duster over black pant and a black t-shirt. Black motorcycle boots and his famous cowboy hat rested on his left knee. He wore a black pair of sunglasses.

General Rudolph Falke (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/RudolphFalke.jpg) sat beside him, on his right side. On the left side was Ken'ichi Sasaki (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/kenface.jpg), in the Dress Uniform (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/BWDU.jpg) of the Black Wolves. Both had a watchful eye on the surrounds of the balcony and the square. One was the Wolf General of the Beta Division of the Black Wolves and the other was Master of the Feared Path of the Hellish Blazes.

Behind the Count and his men were two los guardias de Diablo, the royal guards of the Dominion, in their armor (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LosguardiasdeDiablosArmor.jpg) with small version of their flags (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LosguardiasdeDiablosFlag.jpg) on their chest. They stood unmoving like two stone statues, their shield resting on the ground and their hands on the hilt of their swords.

The Count just smiled at the sight of millions of crosses, he was to old to be harmed by those crosses. Or maybe it was that fact they were to far away to do harm. Nobody will know about him and what harms him. The only most people know is that the sun does not harm him.

The Count and his men meet with almost everybody that has something to with the government but the new Emperor himself. As they waited, he asked himself When I’m going to met this man, this warrior.

Then his question was answer as the long golden coffin came out of the Cathedral's entrance. His eyes zoomed in on the man in front. The new Emperor. Damn, he is bigger then I thought he was. JWolf could see the man’s father in his looks. He listened to Maximus’ speech, his powerful speech. At the end with the chants of “Hail Caesar!” filling the air, the Count added his own “Hail Caesar!” with a bow of his head at Maximus. If Maximus could read lips, he would get this message from the Count. “You will do good, young one.”

Vice-Minister Michael Winters clapped with the cheers of the crowds; they really were awe inspiring. But so was the massive figure of the new Emperor. Standing tall in his amazing armour he stood out clearly even for those much further away. The Vice-Minister had felt so safe here, despite all the crowds, that only two security Personell accompanied him, and only they would stay with him on his trip.

He felt majorly underdressed, his guards were both military Personell and were wearing their full regalia, and yet even they were outshone by even the lowliest of the Doomingsland troops in their glistening armour.

He would have something to talk to his family and friends once he got back to Hotdogs2, this surely was one of the greatest moments of his life, he couldn't begin to think of what the Emperor would feel like.

bump

His Exalted Excellency, Patron Joseph Stormberg was sitting in his seat next to Grand Field Marshal Hector Bison (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c309/Xharnia/GrandFieldMarshalHectorBison.jpg)the supreme head of the Death Korps Legions. They looked upon the endless horde of Doomingslanders armed with crosses. The sight was awe inspiring as they continued to scream their hails to the new Emperor..


The Patron and his associate were dressed in their ceremonial military uniform. It was styled like an S.S. officer uniform. The armband however instead of having a swastika had the Xharnian Flag insignia. The Xharnian representatives showed no signs of emotion. This was because the Patron had to maintain an image of absolute control at all times. Bison's excuse was because of his specialized gas mask he always would wear. It was well known that Bison's face had never been seen by anyone within the State.

The Patron had four of his personal bodyguards (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c309/Xharnia/shadowkorps.gif) with him. The bodyguards were Death Korps Legionaries of the 1st Red Wolf Legion. They were in their standard Kelvar battle armor that was covered over by their regular military uniform. They had their traditional gas masks and standard issue M-16A2 rifles and their 9mm sidearm pistols. They even were specialized martial artists. They looked with indifference at the display and showed no emotion.

The Patron looked over at the Count as he cried out his own personal hail to the new Emperor. The Patron smiled and gave a salute in the direction of the new Caesar. His subordinates all of them including the guards repeated this gesture to show the support of the United Military State of Xharn to the new Emperor Maximus…