NationStates Jolt Archive

The High Emperor of Agrandov stepped up, spreading his palms on the engraved podium. His fingers ran absent-mindedly over the patterns of clouds and eagles, but he was not nervous. His eyes flickered down towards his reading, but they did not linger; he knew it by heart.

And so the morning prayer of the Parliament began, as the Emperor himself read from the tome before him. Each and every minister listened intently, for every one of them was a believer, and they all knew the penalty for ignorance, in this life and the next. Armed soldiers were present as a testament to this.

'Think not that I am come to send peace on earth; I came not to send peace, but a sword' quoted the Emperor as he finished, 'Now, gentlemen of the Ministry, I would like to bring your attention to the following figures. Lower Monastery enrolment is down 5%, Upper Monastery graduation is down 10%, Academy enrolment and graduation is down 20%, and Holy Enlistment is down 10%. Execution of heretics is up 15%, and Cleric activity has almost doubled since this time last year.

'What we are looking at here, is a lack of faith in the people. Heretical thoughts flow freely through mediums we cannot control, and our people in these times are too easily swayed by greed and fear. That is why I am bringing a new set of laws into action, starting noon today. These laws include state-control of all TV, Internet and Radio as well as another purge of national libraries. There will be a new caste of police formed, above the standard Clerics, and another caste above them. We will also be screening all international shipping, and more readily enforcing the Visa system.'

He looked around sternly as several men took down notes, and then he continued. 'This is a war, gentlemen, against an enemy within that has already corrupted many. They are beyond redemption, and only by the destruction of their tainted bodies and heretical minds will their soul be free to embrace Our Lord.'

The morning assembly was over, and the Ministers stood to leave. Most would be going to the East Wing Cathedral for their midday prayer, while others preferred to do it at home.

The man was tall and proud, a sharp contrast to his shabby clothing. His tattered shoes made little noise on the wooden platform. He swallowed, sweating slightly in the sun and a look of deep horror on his face. People stared, well dressed and quiet, ordinary citizens of Agrandov. They had seen it before, and although few of them had enjoyed it, it was like watching a train wreck.

Two more men stepped up, one of them a standard-issue Cleric, his face obscured by the helmet and mask. He was clad in dark blue and a lighter grey, the afternoon sun glinting off the Name Disk embedded in his chest armour. In one hand he held the end of some rope, and in the other a pistol.

The other man was bald and robed in white, visibly a servant of the Church. He held out a book and began to read, his words gaining the immediate attention of the gathering crowd. The poorly-dressed man seemed transfixed, and he could do nothing but tremble as the Cleric forced the noose over his head.

A sharp slam echoed around the city centre as the tall stool was kicked from underneath him, and the man fell a foot or so before the rope became taut and his neck was snapped. The Cleric and the Priest moved down the line, as a strange duo of Judge and Executioner. Convict after convict fell; the third one, not falling hard enough, was left to choke to death.

All twelve bodies were left there as the Cleric regrouped with his squad, the rest of which had been keeping an eye on the crowd. They finished the patrol of their sector before heading back towards the Academy. The Priest made his way towards the Upper Monastery; he had a class this afternoon.

OOC: Is this open?

[OOC: Yes its open, though I'm not sure how you could get involved. Possibly a network of operatives in my nation for whatever reason, posing as either citizens or visa holders?]

Squad cars pulled up outside the tall stone building, each disgorging 4 Clerics into the street. Two took up position behind each car, aiming carbines at the heavy oak doors as the remaining four approached with caution. Trigger fingers tightened as a third car approached, a door opening to release a Knight.

Armoured completely in back, the newly formed Knights were intended to be the right hand of the Emperor. He stood with an air of invincibility, for there was no doubt the Lord was on his side. Although he did not wear a mask or helmet like the Clerics, his face was just as expressionless.

An elderly womad was behind a desk, penciling the latest additions to the library. She stood, alarmed, as the door was forced inwards by booted feet. The Knight drew a pistol, but did not aim.

'Everybody out. Now.'

Half an hour later, a van containing all materials deemed heritical left for the Incinerator. The Cleric driving had been blessed earlier by a Priest entirely for this task. The Knight and accompanying Clerics were already on their way to the next point of Purging.

Standard procedure for the Templar government was to insert an intelligence team to determine if a nation was suitable to open diplomatic relations with. They had been in place awhile, since before the the civil war back home, and at first it seemed that this country had a lot in common with Templa. Well, with the old Templa. But then this new act had by the emperor had come into law, something that not even the Church back home had been arrogant enough to try. While the forged documents that had kept them safe might have stood up to scrutiny before this madness, now he highly doubted they were worth much. Turning to his eight man team, he said "Transmit everything. Now. And then wipe the memory on all the equipment." As they moved to carry out his orders, he pulled out a cell phone and while looking out his third story window, watched the building entrance as he attempted to reach someone in the government here who was susceptible to bribery. In the other room, a massive transmision was sent back home. Something that size couldn't be missed by anyone looking for suspicious activity in the electronic medium, but they had their duty.

OOC: Is your society somewhat based on Equilibrium? 'Cause alot of the ambience reminds me of that movie.

[OOC: That’s one of my favourite films of all time, and certain aspects of their society are reflected in mine. The Church in Agrandov is essentially the government, the police, the army, the courts, the schools and the media; they destroy anything they cant control or at least manipulate.]

'Your Excellency, the new laws are now fully integrated and being enforced as we speak. We predict crime rates to fall somewhat... drastically. Is there anything else?'
'Yes... bring me the head of Civil Control, have him bring one of his Knights. I must say I'm curious as to these new servants of our Lord he has deployed.'
'Very well, my Emperor Sire, I'll have Wornson sent immediately.'

The Emperor waited for the aide to leave before taking his seat, and he reviewed the notes he had made since this mornings meeting. Things were going well, but they weren't getting there fast enough. A redraft of his new laws was in order.


'Attention, Clerics of His Holy Sword.' said Wornson as he addressed thousands of blue and grey figures in the gigantic stone garden, 'By order of the Emperor himself, members of the Church now have the divine right to annihilate heresy by any means necessary, and are forgiven of any sin evoked through this as it is no sin at all to do Our Lord's Holy work!'

A cheer echoed from the Clerics, and the head of Civil Control went on to finish his speech. Among the new changes to law, all Heretical material was to be burned on-site and Heretics themselves were to be executed where they stood; public or otherwise.


Meanwhile, the Templarian [?] transmission had gone unnoticed. With infrequent re-briefings and constant changes to law and order today, most people were too busy talking and thinking to consider an overly large file being sent.

One person, however, was alert that afternoon. A programmer working for Civil Control alongside a hundred others to develop a program that restricted most of the internet. He had been testing the file-scanner when he noticed the anomaly.

'Hey, Nick, come take a look at this' he started, and within minutes most of the office was peering into his cubicle. The file was very large, and being sent internationally over lines they didn’t know existed.
'What’s this, why aren't you working?' asked the manager, a holy symbol clearly visible around his neck.
By the time they filled him in, he was already dialling Civil Control.
'Is it encrypted?' he asked, as the dial tone filled his left ear.
'Of course it is,' replied the file's discoverer, 'But that's never stopped me in the past.'

OOC: Templar is the plural form as the nation is Templa.

"Rick" was growing frustrated, never before had he come across anentire government of honest officials. Turning back to his team, he said "Smash it. destroy the equipment, we're leaving." Not questioning his order, they set about wrecking the sensitive machinery. When they were finished, he nodded and they gathered their things. Wearing oversized clothing and a few overcoats to conceal bulletproof vests and a variety of small arms, they left the apartment. As they went down the stairs, "Rick" was formulating a plan. They would try to get a flight out of the country first. If they couldn't fly out, they would try a train. If not a train, a bus. And if that wouldn't work, they would have the uneviable task of sneaking out of the country on foot. As they reached the ground floor and strode out to the lobby, 'Rick' motioned to one of his men. "Anatoliy, make sure the coast is clear." The youngest meber of the group nodded and jogged to the doors before opening them and stepping out ot take a look around.

As the Templar operative left the building, a harsh sight hit his eyes as hard as the summer sunlight. A line of twenty people, mostly male, were standing against a brick wall. Some had their eyes shut tight, others were crying quietly.

'Ready!' came the bark from a squad leader, and five Clerics stepped forward in unison. They cocked their weapons simultaneously, and stood like statues.

'Aim!'
Each took a knee and levelled their carbines at chest height of the people. A child in the line was confused, not understanding why his parents were so afraid. A faint click came from the soldiers as safety catches were disabled.

'Fire!'
There was not a second's pause before the sound of gunfire and chipping bricks filled the air, distorting the shrill screams and dull thuds from the victims.

A line of bodies now lay slumped against the bullet-ridden and blood-covered wall. The Clerics reloaded their weapons and put safety catches back on, awaiting further orders. The squad leader stepped forward, movement catching his eye. He stilled a dying man with his boot, crushing his throat.

Anatoliy backed up through the doors, moving to where he could wathc without being observed by those outside and giving the no-go signal to "Rick". Rick didn't like this developement at all. he glanced back at the rest of the team. "Sergei, Molkov and Alexandre. Check the back entrance and the alleyway. Then report back." They nodded and moved off. Looking at the other three men he said, "Wait here."

Then he went to join Anatoliy. "What have you seen.?"

Anatoliy swore, "This is a messed up place, boss. There are five or six clerics out there. They just murdered twenty people! One of them was a little kid!"

"Shh. Easy, Anatoliy. No use getting all worked up, now. We can't do anything about it, so the best we can do is get home and tell people who can do something about it."

As the three Templar opened the back door, a man stood directly on the other side. His hands were raised in mock surrender, a half-zipped khaki coat revealed him to be wearing body armour, and there was a sizeable bulge under his left arm.

'Don't shoot me,' he said calmly, 'Just fetch your friends and follow me. I'm not alone.' The faint chatter of a helicopter was overhead, but the man seemed unconcerned. 'I'm Roy, and I'm here to help you.'

At the front of the building, things were taking a turn for the worst. An APC, flanked by motorcycle escorts had just turned into the plaza. An ominous black Civil Control squad car followed, which since this morning were renown for carrying the Knights into battle.

Seeing the danger approach, citizens walked briskly away to avoid being connected with anyone unfavourable the Civil Control were about to confront.

Inside the APC, the Clerics were getting a last-minute briefing.
'We don't know how many, but according to intel the apartment was rented by 8 men. This is the figure we're working with. We don't know what they've got, so we're assuming small arms with a little heavier ordinance. This is where the trace led, so be prepared. And, Clerics, these are potentially foreign spies; so keep those safeties off. Remember; shoot to kill, aim to capture.'
'Sir, yes Sir!' came the response from twelve Clerics, all of them wielding carbines.
'This is His holy plan, and our holy duty! Honour Our Emperor! Honour Our Lord!'

As Alexadre and Molkov covered the man and the rest of the alley, Sergei went to inform Rick. Once he was informed, Rick made his decision.for better or worse they had to trust this stranger. Seeing a rather ominous convoy heading his way, he said "Move now. Be quick, and if we are betrayed, strike fast." Kneeling by the door where it met the wall, he wedged in a little surprise for the clerics. Then he followed his men, makin g sure to be the last one out. Looking back he could see an APC pulling up front. He swore. Not good, he thought. If the enemy was smart enough to send men around back, they were as good as dead. quickly maling his decision, he pushed Anatoliy forward, "Go! You must hurry. Tell Demitry he is in charge." Turning around, he pulled a compact MP5K out from under his coat and kneeled against the wall of the hallway, just around the corner. Taking a deep breath, he fired a burst at the APC, knowing it wouldn't penetrate the armor, but just trying to buy time for his men. Besides, he thought as he pulled another object from under his overcoat, I have a couple of surprises for the clerics.

The rest of the team made it to the backdoor as Anatoliy let Demitry know what was going on. Demitry had a grim look on his face as he looked at Roy. "Alright, now what?"

'I was hoping you guys would tell me,' he said, and quickly drew angry looks, 'Joking, I'm joking... follow me before that gunship swings around.' True enough, another helicopter had just passed overhead, but it was still at altitude.

Roy made his way through the winding alleys, and seemingly at every junction someone lying in a pile of trash would get up and brush the litter off a sports bag. They had been moving for only a few minutes by the time ten people had joined them, all of them dressed similarly to Roy except one, thinner than most, and hooded.

Roy took a key and unlocked a uniform grey door, before making his way to the stairs inside. He crouched and rolled up a small rug, and opened a concealed door beneath it. This revealed another set of stairs, and he stood aside to let the Templar pass down.

'Welcome.'


Things were less hospitable to the Templar team leader, as the 12.5mm machine gun mounted on the APC returned fire. The half-inch rounds hammered into the front of the building, bricks proving no obstacle as they cut through plaster on both sides of the front room.

Doors on both sides of the vehicle swung open, as the Clerics came out shooting. All four motorcycles sped past to surround the building and the helicopter was above and descending.

'First squad! Covering fire, now!' roared the leader, 'Second and third squad! Mousehole that wall!'

Gruff reports were heard as four men opened fire and eight stepped up, rolling bundles of explosives towards the building and taking cover.

'Fire in the hole!' was yelled as each bundle exploded to open a door-sized hole in the wall. Three holes in all, the squads moved up and prepared to enter.

At the back, the bikers dismounted and secured the only exit. They radioed in.

The Civil Control patrol car stopped, with the APC between it and the building. A Knight left the vehicle, and checked his weapon, all the while talking under his breath.
'And they shall know I am the Lord...'

Grimacing, "Rick" Sprayed his SMG until he was out of ammo. Unfortunately he lacked grenades. As the Clerics entered the building, he tossed his useless gun out into the lobby. "I'm coming out!" he shouted. Grabbing the item next to him he slowly stood up and fiddled with something in his bag. Trying to take depp breaths, he knew his time was almost up, and proayed that the rest of his team would ake it out of this godforsaken country.

The rest of his team were looking dubiousely at the stairs in the floor. As the gunship passed overhead again, Demitry barked out an order, "Move. Now. Or do you want Itko-Rick's death to have been for nothing?" They could hear the firing and explosions from where they were. Reluctantly, the team went down the stairs and to safety, they hoped.

OOC: I didn't explain that very well. Templar is a national plural, the plural of that is Templars. Like American and Americans. That said, Are your guys Agandrovians? Or something else?

[OOC: It's Agrandovian, although in casual speaking it's usually shortened to 'Dovian.]

'GET DOWN!' screamed a Cleric, though not at Rick. From the other side of the plaza a trail of white smoke followed a 100mm Anti-Tank missile, the loud hissing extinguished suddenly when it exploded into the APC. It hit the weak join of hull and door but didn’t penetrate, as the Clerics scattered in search of the new attackers.

Sniper fire erupted from the same building, and in seconds two Clerics had hit the tarmac bleeding. The Civil Control gunship opened fire, its two chain-guns shredding the rebels but not before a second missile was fired. This one worked, as the whole APC was lifted two feet by the explosion of its own fuel and ammunition.

The Knight was thrown to the floor, but unscathed despite his proximity to the blast. The Cleric leader lay dead at his feet, and the Knight instantly assumed command.

'Fire up!' He ordered, 'Get into that building NOW!' He raised his pistol as a warning to any who had second thoughts on obeying.

At the back of the building, the four Clerics did not get another chance to report in. Cut down by silenced rifle fire from the shadows, they lay still until it was their bodies turn to be hidden in the nearby dumpster. Two more rebels opened the door and came up quietly behind Rick.
'Your friends are waiting for you, we've got this one covered, brother.'

Rick nodded, loosening his grip on the item in his hand. It was a Benelli M3 Super-90 semi-automatic shotgun loaded with twelve gauge slugs. Handing the bag to the newcomers, he said "Don't hold on to this for too long. It's a bomb and the timer has about two minutes left on it." Nodding to them, he took off for the back door.

OOC: Tiny post, I know.

The rebels nodded back and one of them took the bag upstairs while the other tipped a table as a makeshift barrier. He hid behind it, holding a shotgun of his own and a machine pistol on his knee. The Clerics were ready to renew the attack, and he was ready to stop them.

His partner emerged on the roof of the building, bag in one hand and a cylinder in the other. He threw the flashbang, and then the bag, down onto the street below and ran towards the stairwell door.

But he didn't make it, as the Knight below aimed and fired. The bullet clipped the man's skull and killed him instantly. Clerics around the Knight were covering their eyes, but one by one came out of the confusion. The Knight entered the building, holstering his pistol and unslinging the full-size assault rifle from his shoulder.

He looked at the table in the middle of the room, and put eight rounds through it. A muffled thud of head hitting floor came back, and a pool of blood seeped out from behind.

As he turned to leave, the bomb exploded. The bag had been thrown down amidst the rubble, and had gone unnoticed until its fireball engulfed both remaining Clerics in third squad.

The Knight got back on his feet once more, and as the helicopter gave the all-clear he marshalled his Clerics for debriefing.

"Rick" emerged in an alley and noticed stains on the ground. Hoping it wasn't from his men, he walked briskly towards the street, shoving the shotgun back under his overcoat. Seeking to immerse himself into the crowd of pedestrians of the city and hide in the tide of humanity, he slowed and joined a group of walking people. Hoping his men were safe, he moved in the general direction of the airport.

His team were still underground with Roy and the other 10 rebels. As they walked along dingy corridors the lights flickered and hummed, accompanying the rhythmical drip from leaking pipes. They turned into a room with its door wide open, and inside was a man with his feet up, watching a small TV.

'John and Kyle hit the headlines yet?' asked Roy.
'You bet they have, and the obituaries too.' said the older man, sitting up properly and brushing crumbs off his overalls.
'Shit.' came Roy's reply, 'And the spy?'
'I don't know, he's not on the news.'
'Then maybe you're on the wrong channel.' came a voice from the hooded figure who had accompanied them. Definitely female. 'I'll give Sid a call,' she continued, 'Roy, sort these guys something to eat.'


The Emperor sat at his desk, with four ministers in front of him. He did not look amused.
'It appears that certain members of the population are not embracing Our Lord's will as readily as we had hoped.' he said venomously, 'Set an example for them. This world may be between Heaven and Hell, but we are not in Purgatory; execute everyone serving a life sentence. And,' he said, a particular wave of malevolence crossing his face, 'Reopen the Guild of Knowledge. I want it fully operational by the time I finish morning prayer tomorrow!'

The ministers turned, silent in their shock. As they left, the national motto stood engraved into the high arch above the door;
Sword of Our Father, Shield of Our Children.

Demitry spoke up, "What about Rick? And who is this spy? Or is that something you can't tell us?" He was understandably suspicious.

"Hey, lighten up." That was Anatoliy, the youngest member of the team. "They mentioned food and I for one am hungry."

Demitry glared at the young man, "We need to know if Rick is dead or not. We need to know what's going on. We need to find out if, when, and how we can get home.

'This "Rick" guy is the spy, unless you guys are tourists. Our men had orders to relieve him and by the looks of things he’s still breathing.' said the man in overalls, 'I'm Simon, by the way, and you can find the restaurant three doors down.

Roy lead the way, and it soon became apparent that "restaurant" had been a bit of a euphemism. A man with a white apron stood over a surprisingly clean cooker, a large knife in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

'We're all outta menus, but that’s ok, he’s memorised both items on it.' grinned Roy.


On the surface, Clerics stood at every street corner and the feared back patrol cars were more regular than any bus. Although Rick's assumed identity and looks were not yet widely known, an investigation was already underway.

An APC wound its way up the hill behind the local Monastery, one of many in the Capital. It stopped at the top, just outside of an odd building perched on the peak.

It was odd because it was clearly a gigantic Cathedral, and yet it was built like a reinforced bunker. Instead of wide, stained-glass windows there were tall slits in the concrete. Instead of heavy oak for doors, they were instead made of riveted steel.

The tall spires were uniform and absolute, ringed with razor wire to prevent climbing. The APC was parked some way away because of the large concrete bollards designed exactly for that purpose.

Since the mid-20th Century the Guild of Knowledge had cast its shadow of fear and obedience over the Capital. From its depths came terrible rumours and even worse truths, for there was much more of this building below ground than above it.

It was, in short, a place of the acquisition of knowledge, that people would hide from the Lord's servants in Agrandov. It was a place of torture, and the Emperor planned to bring it to life once more with instruments dating back to its origins and also some newer contraptions.

Although it had been closed at the turn of the century, it would now be brought back into operation.

The occupants of the APC got out, and the steel lettering caught their eye;
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.

The team exchanged dubious glances. "Vwut do you mean, both items?" asked Boris, a previousely silent member of the group. It was readily apparent his [insert whatever your language is here] was rather heavily accented.

Another mumbled something before replying in the same hackneyed fashion, "It does not matterl, I am starlving."

"Hush, Nicholi. We are all hungery. And we all want to know how long it will take to find Rick. If it helps, he will try to get ot an airport first. That or a train or bus station. Unless he just tried to hoof it cross country. How long do you think until we hear something one way or the other?" Demitry asked, looking expectingly at Roy.

*************************************************

At that moment Rick was still walking along a sidewalk in the middle of the city.

*************************************************

"Hey, Bill. Take a look at this transmission from the guys in Agrandov."

"What the...at the end, is that-"

"Yep, that's the squawk code. Our guys are in trouble."

"I'll make some calls, see what can be scraped togetherfor an extraction."

"Right, I'll talk to a guy I know in the reconnaissance office and see if we can get a sattelite overhead.

'Don’t worry about it, but I don't expect your Rick to be an easy man to find, Demitry He'll surface eventually. We'll find him, unless they do first. That is when you should worry' said Roy grimly. It was clear he didn't want the issue pressed.
'As for food,' he said, brightening up, 'We have a thick vegetable soup, very good, or he'll fry you something up, also good.'


'Sid? Its Jen, listen, I need info on the spy I mentioned and fast, they're looking for him.' She stopped and confirmed something, and then scribbled out some details on waiting paper. 'Whe-' Jen started, but something on the TV caught her attention. It was an image of Rick scrabbling for cover, taken from the APC gun-mounted camera. Enlarged 600% his face was pretty pixelated, but more than enough for a positive ID. Especially with the Clerics this trigger-happy, she thought.

The news program cut to the building the violence had taken place, and several Clerics were probing the wreckage. Some charred scraps of electronic equipment, but not much more. Tracker dogs were also there, and Jen swore.

Rick was running out of time.

Rick was walking down the sidewalk when he passed a store that had Televisions in the front window. Slowing to watch the footage, he felt a chill run up his spine at seeing himself on camera. Moving quickly on, he flipped the collar up on his overcoat and hunched his shoulders as he lost himself in thought. There had been no mention of his team so he had to assume they got out unscathed. The same could not be said for him as he needed to come up with an alternate strategy. With his face on TV there was no way he would be able to get through an airport. The trains would be less watched, he was sure, but thought a bus station would be under even looser surveilance system. Besides, he thought, I can always walk home.