NationStates Jolt Archive

Somewhere on the Mediterranean Coast of Egypt (Warning: Explicit Content)

The cool Mediterranean breeze blew in from the North, enveloping the city of Midian and its occupants. Shutters fluttered open and closed as curtains, tabards, and banners fluttered in the whirling wind. The city appeared vacant and devoid of life. A cat scurried across the cobble-stone street, chasing after a small wood mouse that had darted across before him. It was as if an entire civilization, an entire people had been removed from their place in the world. No hustle or bustle like modern metropolitan centers. No violently active markets or commercial districts. In fact, no stores lined the Mediterranean-influenced streets. It seemed that modern, capitalistic culture had stopped at the city walls. Along with a lack of these modern things, no street-poles for electrical wiring were present. No substations could be seen amidst the tightly-packed city streets. Electricity and other modern comforts seemed to be lacking. But why?

A gentle pounding began to echo from the South-East portions of the city. A large, ornately structured building could just be seen over the roofs of the two and three story high apartments. Smoke could be seen rising in the same trajectory; with that smoke, however, traveled a much more sinister companion: a distinct smell that could be identified by any individual who had ever been blessed with its scent before.

The pounding grew louder closer to the ornate building. Finally, upon arrival, the small press corps that had been permitted into the city (a collection of international stations), witnessed a thing of horror to those outside of the Forbidden City: centered in a massive square, surrounded by pillar-walls that extended from the ornate complex in the East of the city, sat a group of inverted crucifixes. Upon further inspection from the relative safety of their location, they would be horrified by the sight of men and women having been nailed to the oaken constructs. Hooks lay imbedded into the flesh around their cheeks and waists, and through the use of several mechanical contraptions, their dermal layers had been peeled back, revealing their internal organs that now lay flayed across the ground, rapidly being consumed by the amassed crowd.

Drawing their horrified facades from the central gore, the entirety of the situation was revealed: surrounding the crucified and disemboweled individuals was the entire population of the city. Yet, the actions they took was what truly drew back the reporters; for the population of Midian lay with one another, their bodies - man and woman, woman and woman, man and man, and various arrangements with beasts - entwined in various amalgamations of carnality and intercourse. A truly ghastly sight for any individuals who came from beyond the walls of the Forbidden City. A sight that would now be cast around the world for all to see.

A beginning for the Forbidden City. A new beginning for the Midianites.

+++

Carnal Palace of the Potentate, Midian

Newly appointed Potentate Hierophant Abdullah Alhazred stood on the massive balcony above the New Dawn Ceremony (removal of the old Potentate and his Hierophants and the replacing with a new Potentate and Hierophants), his dark eyes scanning the happenings below. As he stood, ebon-cloak-clad figures amassed about him. A leather-coated limb extended from one of the nearly 9-foot-tall beings, placing its digits upon Alhazred’s shoulder. ”It’s a new world. The Ones Who Dwell Without demand penitence from this world. They demand it from you, Hierophant.”

Without pausing, the Potentate extended his right wrist, rolling it to expose his veins. The beast behind him lowered his digits to Alhazred’s extended forearm, slicing its index finger across his flesh, releasing a sudden rush of vermillion-hued fluids. The being that stood to Alhazred’s aft dropped, a face extending from beneath the veil of the hood: a face devoid of flesh, with muscle tissue sunken into the very skeletal structure of the facade; large, ivory teeth extending from both maxilla and mandible; and a forked tongue that rolled from between his lips. The beast pressed his maw against Alhazred’s arm, digging into the wound, the flesh rising as the forked appendage rolled about beneath the dermis.

After obtaining his fill, the scarlet-soaked being rose, the flesh of the new Potentate healing quickly, a queer scar forming across his flesh where the being had bitten. ”You will serve the Term in the Grand Court of Azathoth, and you will prosper with the sects of the world. Ave.” With the simple utterance, the beings departed, leaving the Potentate to his desires, his oculars peering down to behold the mating of man to woman and woman to beast. He watched as peculiar beings slithered amongst the sprawled masses, encouraging them to consume the flesh of the former Hierophants and their Potentate - something they did with much enthusiasm.

Alhazred watched as the reporters from around the world filmed the atrocities and strange acts, making sure to note the arcane symbols that adorned the walls, pillars, and stone-floor of the square. A journalists, shuddered, fell, and even vomited amongst some of the acolytes below, regurgitating his lunch due to a combination of the non-Euclidean architecture of the Carnal Palace and the New Dawn Ceremony that happened only a few feet away. A reporter jumped back as a disfigured... thing lunged at him, its flesh being pulled back from its visage, exposing a rapidly decaying muscular layer, metallic pins driven directly into its skull. The beast that lunged was revealed not to want the man, but his regurgitated dinner, its tongue rolling against the masonry floor, lapping up the saliva, food, and acid mixture.

Over the next several hours, the reporters watched in awe and disgust as men and women pampered their deepest, darkest desires. Several of the international spectators fled after the fourth hour of the Ceremony, deciding to flee to the relative safety of their chartered vessel. The remainder stayed to witness the acts that would most-certainly appal most - if not all - modern religious groups (most-notably, the Vatican - due to its close proximity to the Forbidden City). They would grow weary, eventually being forced to retire after several female members of the populace began dramatically displaying affection toward the crucified Hierophants, forcing many of them to hold back from too vomiting their meals of the day.

As the troop returned to their vessels, the sounds of screams began to echo from the direction of the Palace, plumes of fresh smoke rising from the square. Yet, tired and exhausted, the reporters refused calls by the Press Chief to return to the seen of the acts. Instead, they marched onward, through the empty streets of Midian, traveling in the Twilight Hour to their chartered vessel from Cyprus. They quickly boarded and disembarked, retiring to their cramped chambers in an attempt to dislodge the images that had imprinted themselves onto their Mind’s Eye. Yet, most - if not all - of the journalists could not slumber, and forced themselves to the upper deck of the small vessel, staring blankly out at the night sky in the direction of Midian.

”It was... beautiful,” announced one of the reporters, immediately drawing several stares from the rest of the group.

”Are you fucking serious? They killed their rulers, mutilated them, ate them, and - with what was left - had sex with it!”

”Yes, but did you see their eyes? It was complete passion and adoration. Their eyes were glazed over with pleasure, their minds - I’m sure - ablaze with carnality and lust. It was beautiful.”

”Did I see the same thing you did? All I saw was a mass of flesh and faces; most of which, where twisted into various forms of agony.”

”Psh, fucking bullshit. You saw it; you had to! I mean, who wouldn’t love to live in a place where they could - daily - fulfill their deep desires? It was like Heaven.”

”If that was Heaven, then send me to Hell.”

The reporters remained quiet, keeping to themselves. Suddenly, the reporter that had remarked of the beauty of Midian rose, ”I must return!” He charged to the aft of the boat, and launched himself over the edge. The rest of the crew ran after him, but, upon inspect of the water below, were in awe as no man could be seen in the blackness of the Mediterranean Sea: no rippling waves, no disturbed water - nothing. It was as if he had simply vanished from the ship.

Upon arrival at Cyprus, the crew quickly reported the happenings to their various agencies, requesting that the footage be broadcast immediately (live documentation was forbidden by the Midianites) to the world. In most cases, it was. CNN, Rueters, and various other news-networks picked up the broadcasts and began relaying them around the world. Within a matter of forty-eight hours, the entirety of the civilized world new of the barbarian-like nature of the city of Midian.

The world had seen lust, and would now turn to dust.

(OOC: Basically, I would like responses from the international community. I would not, however, like to be completely obliterated. I used to roleplay on the forums as Laurasia, and as many people know, I only roleplay conflicts that have been previously discussed. So, if you'd be interested in something other than sending people, reporters, reporting, etc., contact me.)

Bump.

OOC: Oh this is beautiful....Amazingly done, so very Lovecraftian and Barkerish. So baroque. Bravo. Makes me wish I had an MT side to get involved with...

(OOC: Thanks. I've read a lot of your stuff; you're very articulate - and somewhat graphic [beautifully] and I always enjoyed reading your work. If you have MSN or AIM, perhaps we could discuss at least some form of connection between Chronosia and Midian.)

really impressive writing. spelled scene wrong. but im splitting hairs, overall it was awesomly done. i second the bravo. good imagination, if you have more to the story, i would love to read it.

(OOC: Thanks. Yeah, I was writing it in a hurry while talking to my ladyfriend. So, excuse any typographical and grammarical errors encountered. I'll get around to correcting them, just not at 11:30 at night. >.>

What I'm looking for is other nations to at least report on it before I can really move the story along. So, meh.)

OOC: Very amazing I will send a responce immeaditly.

IC: Effil Essi sat in one of the many conferance rooms in the Central Government Tower in Sylvan Downs. He had copies of all the broadcasts from...he looked at the paper breifing him on this place...ah yes it was Midian. He had his fingers splayed and touching at only the tips in front of his neck and chin with the tips of his index fingers right under his nose, his index fingers were tapping against each other as he watched these scenes.

He sat unmoving, except for his index fingers which kept tapping, staring at the now black television screen. How could such a culture evolve that way? Why would it? So many questions so few answers. Thoughts such as those and many others floated lazily through his mind. After a short time he came up with an answer. His hands went down to the table and he took out a piece of paper and started writing.

To: The government of the city of Midian
From: Cortellen

I have personaly watched all the broadcasts from the veiw you have given the world. I do not know why you chose to do that but I would like to send over people to study your history and devolopment as a culture and a civilzation. Please send back instructions on how to get to your island city and any limitations you may wish to impose.

Signed

Effil Essi
Head of State, Cortellen.

http://img102.imageshack.us/img102/769/midianstateflagmedcw9.png

Official Epistle to the
Government of Cortellan

On behalf of the Congregation, I would like to thank you for your inquiry into the happenings within the city-state of Midian - the Forbidden City of which my ancestors spoke. We are thankful that such nations as yours are willing to learn and understand the happenings within our unique social structure and cultural traditions.

Yet, before permission is granted to your commission, we would like to clarify several things:

- The city-state of Midian is not an island country. It lies on the Mediterranean Coast of North-Eastern Egypt. (See attached image (http://img292.imageshack.us/img292/4738/midiands0.png).)

- The purpose for the New Dawn Ceremony is the removal of the former Potentate and his Hierophants. It occurs every twenty-three years in order to renew the Faith and the Congregation. It is taught by the Great Outer Emir that no man should ever serve longer than the Term.

With these clarifications made, I would like to personally invite a Cortellan commission of anthropologists, religious scholars, and sociologists (along with others) to come and study our unique city-state. However, this commission is required to depart Midian within forty-eight hours of arrival. I also recommend that - due to no nearby airports or stations - the commission disembark from Cyprus and travel to our docks.

The Congregation would like to - once again - thank you for your interest in Midian and the Midianite traditions.

Sincerely,
Alhazred
Potentate Hierophant of Midian and the Faith

(OOC: Bump.)

After Halladi television and the Halladi News Network released some footage of the happenings in the Midian State, the public and government were horrified and intrigued. The Halladi government sought to gather information about this new society -- for science and for espionage. As such a team of anthropologists, relgious scholars (both muslim and christian), sociologists, and psychologists were assembled. Secretly put into the group were several Workers' Protection Agency operatives, who were to discover the military capabilities of the Midian State and gather other intelligence useful for espionage.


TO: Alhazred, Potentate Hierophant of Midian and the Faith
FROM: Anwar Al-Bajir, People's Commissar of Education and Culture
SUBJ: Expidition

Comrades,

The Halladi Workers' Republic is intrigued by your nation. As such, our people wish to learn much more about your city -- its people, history, culture, etc. We would like to send in a 12 person team of Halladi anthropologists, relgious scholars, sociologists, and psychologists. We would appreciate co-operation in this matter.

In Solidarity,
Anwar Al-Bajir
People's Commissar of Education and Culture
The Halladi Workers' Republic

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v15/Belovia/NationsOnline/Hallad2.png

http://img102.imageshack.us/img102/769/midianstateflagmedcw9.png

Official Epistle to the
Government of Hallad

I thank you for your nation’s interest in Midian and the Way. We cordially welcome your team of scholars and researchers to Midian. However, upon arrival, the Halladi team may dwell in Midian for no more than fourty-eight hours. We also suggest that you come by way of the sea from your prospective port-of-departure.

We hope this will be a great beginning for Midianite-Halladi relations. The Congregation and the Acolytes believe that this truly is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Our reasons vary.

Sincerely,
Alhazred
Potentate Hierophant of Midian and the Faith

A Halladi looked at the list of names under the dim light of his cabins desk lamp. There were eleven others on the ship with him whose destination was Midian. He glanced down at their names and their profession(s):

1. Faraj al-Munir - Male, 32, Anthropologist (Buraydah College)
2. Gamil Ahmed bin-Hamid - Male, 29, Anthropologist (University of Ryydra)
3. Rusul Aqil - Male, 38, Archaeologist (Al Anbar Regional University)
4. Gawahir Shafaqat - Female, 27, Sociologist (University of Ryydra)
5. Atanas bin-Henrik - Male, 45, Sociologist (Ha'il College)
6. Haifa Galila - Female, 32, Archaeologist (Umbar College)*
7. Khayriyya Badr - Female, 54, Anthropologist (Buraydah College)
8. Ayman Imtiyaz Haytham - Male, 49, Imam
9. Ibraheem Abdul-Aziz - Male, 46, Imam
10. Malika Nur - Female, 35, Psychologist (Al Haradrim Regional Universrity)
11. Ata Hosni - Male, 26, Psychologist (Al Halladrim Regional College)*

The twelfth name was his own name: Rashid Hassan. He noted the comment on the bottom of his paper; it explained the asterisk marks next to some of the names. These marked the undercover Workers' Protection Agency operatives in the group. Under no circumstances were their true professions to be exposed. In morning, the team would arriving at Midian, so Rashid decided it would probably be best get some sleep for the night. He turned the light off and hopped onto the bed -- he had been given a solitary room. Most of the others had bunks in their quarters.

* * *

He had a bad feeling. He was not awake, but dreaming now. He could tell he was dreaming -- his movements were so fluid and there was the lingering feeling of something eerie and wrong. It was surreal. Rashid found himself outside a city by the sea, looking up at the huge walls that surrounded this relic in time. He was very curious to know more and merely by his will power, it seemed that he had transported into the heart of the city. He was not pleased with what he saw now. Blood. Gore. Horrors.

Surreal and grotesque monsters surrounded him, feeding on humans -- some still living. It was then he caught sight of a beautiful woman on the edge of the chaos. The short woman beckoned to him, and Rashid -- even with all his self control -- could not help himself from moving toward the perfect figure.

"I will tell you the secrets you wish to know," she said so softly, but to him it was as if she were screaming.

He struggled to speak, his mind captivated by her beauty. "Tell me everything! Please!"

The woman giggled, sending a shiver down Rashid's spine. "It comes at a price," she stated.

Quickly the Halladi retorted. "Anything."

She turned, motioning for him to follow. He was led down an alley way, then down a street. All around were more acts of carnal lust and explicit violence. He kept his eyes straight, following the woman’s movements. He feared looking to either side would make him sick. Then there was a magnificent building, a government building or perhaps some sort of temple? He had not the time to ponder such questions, because his body instinctively followed the woman.

A few rooms he was led into, until they came to what appeared to be dead end hallway. But it was soon proved not to be. The woman did some sort of hand motion, then touched the wall, and read some sort of incantation. The walls shook viciously and a staircase was suddenly visible in front of him. It led down -- down into a deep darkness. He could sense there was more to this darkness than a lack of proper lighting. She began to descend, and he was at first unwilling to follow.

"The answers are here." The woman stated simply.

Rashid lifted his leg, moved forward to plant his foot on the first step downward.

* * *

"Rashid,” yelled Atanas bin-Henrik, as he slapped Rashid awake. Rashid jumped up exhaling heavily, then taking a deep breath. He was sweating, he noticed -- so did Atanas. "Get up, Rashid, we'll be docking soon."

"Oh," said Rashid, catching his breath. "Okay. I'll be on deck in a little while." Atanas nodded and walked out of Rashid's room.

Rashid sat at his bed side for a moment, recovering from the dream. He hadn't gotten his foot down. He never made it on to the stairs. And now he was more curious than ever, and unsure if it really meant anything. He got up, and went through his bags, getting dressed. He noted that his papers had been moved around slightly on his desk. It could have been the ship's movements, but he suspected Atanas had taken a little look. They'd need to have a 'talk' later.

Ten minutes later, Rashid was on deck with the rest of the team. They all stared at the shore, so close now, and onto the city. The same he'd seen in his dream. The team was awestruck as the Halladi ship docked.

OOC: I dunno if you want to do anything with the dream. I just threw it in there cuz I felt like writing something weird like that. XD

The Sanhedrin Hall, Carnal Palace, Midian

Alhazred sat in his throne within the Sanhedrin Hall, surrounded by the upper echelons of the Way and the State, Hierophants surrounding him in the council-chamber. The room was dark, lit only by queerly-illuminating candles, stone masonry lining the walls, floor, and ceiling. Ornately designed fabrics and banners hung from the ceiling, the crest of Midian hung above the Potentate’s See, signs of ancient esoteric knowledge engraved amongst the chair itself. It was six hours before the arrival of the Halladi commission, and the Potentate had called a meeting of the Sanhedrin (executive council of the Faith and State) in order to discuss what exactly will be revealed to the visitors.

”Nothing,” announced Secretarial Hierophant (head of foreign relations for Midian and the Faith) Abel Haziri, ”They are outsiders and should be treated like outsiders.”

”Yes, Brother Haziri,” spoke a priest, ”But what of the ‘Magnum Innominandum’? Hmm? What of Their plans? You know we are only servitors - acolytes - to the Great Dread.”

”Damn the Outer Gods!” announced a particularly heretical Hierophant. As suddenly as his last syllable rolled from his tongue, the candles flickered out, silence enveloping the entirety of the Hall. Suddenly, a scream pierced the blackness, the sound of scattering Hierophants heard in unison with the sound of splattering fluids and crunching bone. A sprawl of thick liquid slung across the center of the chamber, tainting the arcane symbols that were engraved there-upon.

Just as soon as the lights flickered out, too, they returned. Where the heretical priest had sat remained only tattered clothing and a scarlet-soaked seat. The Hierophants around him simply sat still, staring at the vermillion liquids that tainted the floor, watching as it slowly drained into the engravings, trickling into small pores in the floor, draining into the vast under-belly of the Palace.

”What we will do,” - finally - spoke Alhazred, ”Is keep them on tight leash. We keep our eyes on them the whole time. They know better than to go snooping around too much. If they do, they may find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’re at least giving them a chance by warning them to leave after two Solar Passings. We’ll get some Horrors to keep an eye on them. After all, the Dreadful Sultan has given them to the Magi to be used as we see fit, no?

“Also, I have taken it upon myself to investigate into these Halladis. I searched the Sanctuary for text regarding them and found that they may be of use. They appear to be descendants of Ancient Men of the Sands. Thus, many of them have a connection to the Forbidden City and the Elder Ones. They seem to be able to perceive us, and the City’s desire for them.

“I do not believe they will simply be another useless people. They may be an asset in the future plans for His Royal Court.”

His remarks received an overall acceptance to his plan. It was passed: the visitors would be treated with respect, but distrust and inquiry. They would not, however, be given board within the City. They would also be advised to tread softly and quickly. No one truly knows the horrors that lurk within the Forbidden City of Midian.

+++

East-Side Docks, Midian

As the Halladi vessel approached, Sanhedrin Hierophant Marcus Alzif awaited, watching as various men prepared the dock for the arriving vessel. He pondered what information could be obtained by such a... primitive people. Yet, they were part of His plan, and thus must be of some use. Alzif only wondered why now? Why not one hundred, one thousand, or a millennia ago? Was it the dawn of the 21st Century that was the mark for the Deep Ones and Those Who Dwell Without? Was that the final sign for the Reclaimation?

Several men helped the Halladi’s tie off the vessel to the docks, placing a large staircase up to the deck of the vessel to allow the Halladi’s to depart. He watched the men and women step from the deck and onto the wooden planks of the East-Side Docks. He eyed each of them in their climate-appropriate attire, his own cassock-like robe seeming out of place for such a place. He approached the man that would later be known as Rashid, extending a hand in greeting to the man, shaking his firmly. ”Welcome to Midian,” Alzif greeted the individuals. He watched as the deck-hands began removing the passengers luggage, then interjected, “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.” He watched as the commission gave peculiar looks, ”Research personnel are not permitted to stay within Midian during your commission. Your party is requested to stay on-ship during your night here. We also would like to state that wandering off without a guide is not a wise decision - neither is eating non-designated produce. I hope, sirs and madams, that this will not be of any consequence.”

Alzif eyed the small party, continuing to ponder their part in the plan of His Most Dreaded. The same question kept flashing through his mind, the same, mind-numbing question: why now?

OOC: Am joining this, just need acess to the post I wrote awhile ago... Should be up later today.

"No, of course not," said Atanas, though the Hierophant had clearly greeted Rashid. Atanas was the official leader of the expedition, a burly man who's unusally straight hair (curly hair in Hallad was very, very common) was balding in that typical male fashion. None the less, he wore it long, slicked back into a ponytail. Though ussually in Hallad he'd taken up a habit of wearing more traditional robes, in order to look 'professional' he'd picked out a more western garb -- a blue buttoned down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a simple belt that pushed into his gut, and some blue jeans.

Atanas moved forward through the group, elbowing Rashid -- who hadn't even gotten a word out -- out of the way and extending his hand to Marcus. "Atanas bin-Henrik, sociologist. I'm the leader of this commission, and I must say it's a pleasure to be here. May I inquire your name, comrade?"

[OOC: Laurasia? Why does that seem familiar? Oh, yes. Fascist Confederacy! The USSR! What's going on, man? Great post. Very very good. Of course, I'll plead that I'm in too many other RPs at the moment to post, but hopefully I can get one in.]

”Ah,” Alzif uttered, ”Hello, Mister Henrik. You may call me Alzif. I will be your guide into the City and your point of contact. The Potentate wishes to offer his apologies for not being able to guide you personally. He is currently busy with other matters.” Alzif continued to eye Rashid as he spoke to Henrik, pondering his true motives behind his coming to Midian. ”Well, I can see all of you came prepared for a long two days. I assume you are ready to begin?” With that, Alzif motioned for the troop to follow him. He began walking toward the city walls, his feet stepping lightly on the wooden planking of the docks, the sweet smell of salt-water flaring at his nostrils as the Mediterranean waves crashed against the rocks at the shore.

After passing the city walls, his eyes caught a faint shadow on a roof-top to the direct opposite of the gate. He glared for a moment, but it quickly vanished, slithering into an opening between two buildings. He awaited the troop to enter the City officially, watching them marvel at the strange architecture of the metropolis. ”Now, sirs and madams,” he waved to the large, oak and iron gate behind the small group, arcane symbols adorning the finely-crafted gateway, ”At sundown every night, the gates to the City are closed and are not re-opened until dawn the next day. I advise each of you that you be outside of the City before the sun falls behind the horizon. If you are caught within the City at night - ‘Ave omnipotes Deus’ - I can not guarantee your safety.” His oculars, once again, glanced to the point of his former inspection, before waving the group farther along.

”Here,” Alzif stopped the group, pointing to a large inscription engraved on the streets below them, ”According to our Traditions, these designs protect against the Evils of the World. They are here to protect us.” Alzif almost couldn’t hold back a smirk. They didn’t have to know the real reason for the designs: they were numerous across the city and drawn by the Old Ones themselves in order to create sacrificial areas for their bloodlust to Those Who Dwell Beyond. The researches needn’t know that the cracks beneath the designs lead far-below to the very bowels of the ancient Midian.

Alzif continued to guide the group around the City, stopping to remark on certain forms of architecture and lecture on aspects of Midian society: the lack of any form of currency in exchange for a mixture between a gift and barter economy, the lack of a police force of any kind, and the lack of a standing military force within the City. Heh, he pondered, They need not know why we do not need such things. He knew that even if the group was guided by a holder of a tight leash, they would probably find out some information to their use. The Sanhedrin knew it, the Potentate knew it, and the whole of the blood-lusting Midianites knew it. They wanted them to know some things.

(OOC: All right, can’t wait to hear your response, Pudu. And hello, Yafor. I hope you can get involved in some way.)

Effil Essi frowned while reading the responce. 48 hours? He was going to figure out why before sending anyone.

To: Midian
From: Cortellen

Why must we be out within 48 hours?


Signed

Effil Essi, Head of State, Cortellen

It is of our concern to be concerned for you.

Ave,
Haziri
Secretarial Hierophant of Midian and the Faith

Effel read this message not liking it but he still wanted knowladge about this place so he assembled a group.

Nuyra Eglefy, 37, Head of Anthropology team
Hefy Urajohru, 25, Anthropologist
Jrude Ovyerr, 23, Anthropologist
Erula Innermu, 30, Anthropologist

Gegera Okkuy, 40, Head of Sociology Team
Gre Ilann, 30, Sociologist
Soddehe Fyad, 35, Sociologist
Elruk Likreyvo, 21, Sociologist

Sarullik Fyufrar, 42, Head of Archaeology Team
Odi Drurdu, 37, Archaeologist
Nyib Oggudis, 29, Archaeologist
Fyadde Orrulna, 24, Archaeologist

***
The tweleve Cortellens sat on the ship they chartered from Cyprus as they headed to Midian. Each of the three teams had their equiptment and they prepaired as the city state neared. They had slept as much as they could and and pouches of Coca leaves to keep themselves awake for the 48 hours they had. They were going to work more or less seperatly for this time and were planning on using all 48 hours to find out all they could.

East-Side Docks, Midian

Young acolyte Masai Aziz sat upon a large pylon that held-up the wooden planks of the East-Side Docks, watching as the Cortellan vessel docked and the crew began departing the vessel. He had received word that the Cortellans would be sending three separate teams for inspecting the city. Due to this, the Sanhedrin had decided to give the Cortellans a bit of free roam. However, the young Aziz carried detailed instructions as to where the Cortellans were allowed to travel, along with three maps of the city to help direct the three teams.

Aziz watched as the teams assembled on the docks, Aziz stood and approached Mr. Eglfey, tapping his shoulder to gain his attention, ”Sir, I am Aziz and I am here to give you this.” The young acolyte handed the man the letter and maps, then dismissed himself and returned to the city without further interaction.

The letter entailed:

Dear Cortellan Commission,

Due to a shortage of hands in this time of trouble and business, we will be unable to personally guide your visitors through this wondrous City. However, this may not necessarily be a plight for you, as you may discover things the guides did not discuss. Yet, we are leaving you detailed instructions as to your boundaries and cultural dos-and-don’ts.

- You are advised not to remain within the City walls at night. Security is relaxed, and even though our population is of high-moral-standing, it is not recommended to lurk within Midian past sundown.

- You are not permitted to eat non-sold produce. Produce used for visitor consumption is sold within the small market near the center of the city (indicated on the maps provided).

- You are not permitted to enter the Carnal Palace for any reason. Failure to follow this command will result in immediate expulsion from the City.

- You are not permitted to explore beyond the designated marks on the maps provided.

We hope these restrictions will not behest your pursuit of knowledge about the Midianites and our Traditions. We hope you enjoy your stay and enjoy your time here.

Ave,
Haziri
Secretarial Hierophant of Midian and the Faith

Attached maps (http://img184.imageshack.us/img184/8279/tourmapor0.png)

The news was disgusting. King Haakon IX turned it off partway through. He didn't usually watch the TV news, preferring instead the paper, but that day he had been watching, having some time to himself while the princess and prince were out skiing and his wife was with her old friends. From the start of the gruesome scene, the political gears in his head had been working, but it hadn't really taken long to decide what his country was to do about the whole affair. Nothing. They had more important things to worry about than the strange customs of a far flung nation. Though the spectacle was nauseating, it appeared upon learning a bit about the country that those who died knew full well their fate when they accepted their positions of authority, twenty three years in the past, and somehow it was worth it to them. A random thought crossed his mind. Ilona would be fascinated. Upon further reflection, he realized that perhaps the depraved but acclaimed physicist and historian (he'd always thought it an odd combination) was. His thoughts drifted to other matters. Likely Parliament would do absolutely nothing about this, though Fascist members would want to declare war. They always did. But others would point out that Callisdrun had to worry about attacks against its own religion rather than attacking that of others.

He turned out to be right on all counts.

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

The government of Midian soon recieved a letter, handwritten on rather nice paper inside a cream colored envelope that bore the Batory clan crest on it black, a dragon making a circle by biting its tail, and inside, three barbed fangs. It was from the professor.

"To the government of Midian:
I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits after your celebration. Perhaps I am getting above myself, but I reason that there is no harm in asking. From what I saw on the news and read about in the paper the next morning, the culture of your people quite fascinates me. Would it be permissable for me to take a tour of your city to learn more? It would be most excellent if a guide could be spared to point out things that I might not otherwise see, but I understand if that is too much of a trouble for a single person. I assure you, I am not acting in some covert fashion at the behest of the government, who, if they are consistant with their foreign policy, are of a mind to let Midian be without interference, but out of personal curiosity.
-Shamelessly, Dr. Ilona Batory"

She did not introduce herself or expound upon her position. There was no need, the government of Midian would find out exactly who the sender of this random letter was, and in doing so, would come to know all they needed to. Most was public knowledge, and what wasn't, was widespread rumor. The fact that she was one of Callisdrun's most esteemed university professors, if not the most, would be easy to come across, as would the history of the Batory Moroii clan of which she was a part, as it was quite significant. Many of the High Priestesses of Ithtyr through out history had been Batorys, indeed, they seemed best for the service of the lustful and vengeful goddess. Other interesting tidbits, such as Ilona's quirky... tastes, would be more difficult to uncover, but not too hard.

She of course, always signed letters with some amusing adverb rather than the boring old "sincerely."

Haziri - a close friend to the Potentate - sat down with Alhazred in his fine living chamber within the Carnal Palace. He placed the letter on his bed, watching as the newly appointed Potentate dined on his morning fill: a combination of lamb from Cairo, bread from Cyprus, and other various fruits from across the Middle East. ”Milord, it appears that a Callisdrunian citizen by the name of Doctor Ilona Batory has shown some personal interest in Midian.”

Alhazred chewed his lamb, then drank a small bit of his freshly-squeezed blood-orange juice, rolling his tongue across his lips after doing so. ”What do you think, old friend? Should we allow her to come?”

”I did a bit of research on her ‘clan’: the Batorys. They appear to have more of a bloodlust than the other moroii of Callisdrun. Do you know of them, milord?”

”Yes, I do. They were mentioned to me in my trails through the Dreamworld by wandering monks, acolytes, and moon-beasts. The Batorys are an extremely lustful and vengeful breed of the moroii. They delight in sadistic rituals and tantra. They are followers of a deity known as ‘Ithtyr’: possibly one of the Great Old Ones and known as the ‘Hyperborean Mistress.’ This would lead me to conclude that - whether or not the Callisdrunians know - they are descendants of the voormi: true inhabitants of the Lost Civilization of the North. There is said to be many Hidden Cities in the region. She could serve as a great ally.”

Haziri nodded, ”But would she be willing to commit the deeds necessary?”

Alhazred smiled, biting into another chunk of lamb, his canines and bicuspids tearing at the meat, several trails of crimson juice running across his chin, only to be wiped up by his napkin, ”I believe she would.”

+++

Dear Doctor Ilona Batory,

Your letter did find me well and in great be-merriment after the great Ceremony. No, madam, it did not come too soon; it met me at precisely the moment in which it was meant. I have heard that our elaborate display met with some disgust in your region; I hope it has not made a bad reputation for us so soon. I hoped we would at least be halfway through the game before it was made such.

Now, as for your visit, madam, I believe it would truly be an excellent experience for the two of us. I have no mistrust of you and your desires, madam. Your family is one of much respect and reverence within the Denomination - as is your Goddess Ithtyr. I believe that your visit would be a great experience. It would give me a chance to learn of your culture, and you to learn of mine. Any meeting of two individuals for such a purpose is surely blessed.

Thus, I wish to accept your request for a visit and I will personally guide you through my great City. I will personally dine and personally discuss with you all you wish to know, madam. I expect you as soon as you are able, madam.

Cor Ad Cor Loquitur,
Alhazred

Ilona stood at the prow of the boat that carried her towards the dock at Midian. She had spent a day in Malta on the way, but now could feel... something... as she came closer to this primal city that had appealed to her tastes in desire. Her ghostly skin shone with multiple latherings of sunblock, as the nearest star's golden rays were far more intense here than in her northern home (when theys showed themselves there at all). Her eyes were invisible behind very dark sunglasses. Moroii had vision accustomed to nighttime in Callisdrun, not daylight in a desert area. Aside from her face, the rest of her body was protected from the light by a loose gown of a dark red color. Concerned about heat, the dress was an incredibly thin fabric, and quite breatheable.

When the boat had tied up to the pier, Dr. Batory picked up her bag and looked around, wondering if someone was to greet her.

"Yes, yes, Alzif -- quite ready to begin." Said Atanas, as the members of the team grabbed cameras, sketch pads, and note pads.

The members of the team followed Alzif closely, listening to him intently. Rashid did the same, feeling increasingly awkward. Rashid noticed that, while the Midian was talking to the group, he was being eyed the most. He wasn't sure why -- perhaps something he was wearing, or something to do with his customs? It was... relatively unimportant at this point.

He -- as did the other agents in the group -- found it most interesting that they had no police, no militia, no soldiers. He wanted to know why! It pulled at his heart, now it was no longer a mission, it was a quest for knowledge. He desired to knowledge of everything that was Midian.

When the group had finally calmed down about all the calamity of the new city, it's inscriptions and architecture, Rashid spoke up for the first time since he'd walked on Midian soil. Alzif was explaining something about some custom when Rashid interrupted him.

"Why," asked the Arab, bluntly. "None of this makes any sense without knowing why, comrade Alzif." He paused. "Pardon my interruption, but It's just that I will find it difficult to publish any sort of report, or essay, or book on this beautiful city if I do not know why such inscriptions exist on your roads, gates, et cetera."

There were murmurs from the group of Halladis in agreement with Rashid, as if before they hadn't realised it.

East-Side Docks, Midian

Haziri waited, escorted by several younger acolytes, for Ms. Batory to arrive. He watched as she stepped from the vessel, carrying her luggage with her. He admired her grace and beauty, noting her thick layers of sun-lotion and sunglasses used to protect her sensitive body from the perils of the Egyptian sun. ”Why hello, Dr. Batory. I am Haziri, Secretarial Hierophant for Midian and the Faith. I am here to escort you to the Palace.” He smiled cordially, his form stepping to her to take her luggage, instructing several of his escorts to carry them. He smiled softly, motioning for her to walk with him, his robes trailing several inches above the wooden planking.

He lead the moroii through the streets of Midian, noting the lack of any cars within the City, leading her to the front doors of the Palace. ”Madam,” he spoke, leading her up the left-side of the grand staircase to the thick doors at the front of the Palace, ”The Palace was constructed many years ago by our Benefactors. As you can see,” he pointed to the door and the Midianite crest above it, ”It was designed to be the home to both the head of Midian and the leader of the Faith.” Along with the Crest, the facade of the building was adorned with sculptures of weird and peculiar beings: hounds with wings, serpentine creatures, and other beasts. Various symbols in arcane and unspoken tongues danced across the ledges and angles, accompanied by various circular inscriptions and text.

Haziri pushed open the door to the Palace, leading Dr. Batory into the Grand Hall of the Palace. The building was massive, a great room with walls and floors of marble, stone edifices of various sculpts and facades jutting out from the walls. In the center of the floor sat inscribed the Crest of Midian and the Faith, embossed directly into the floor. Far above laid paintings of Angular Beings and creatures of the Tradition. The room was marvelous, burgundy, crimson, and black adorning nearly every wall. It would be almost overwhelming for any mere man to lay eyes upon. It was as if Beings from Beyond the Stars had constructed the queerly-designed architecture of the Palace. Yet, a sense of soothing calm pervaded from the walls: serenity.

At the center of the room stood a black-robed individual: Alhazred. Haziri stepped a head of Batory, bowing to one knee, and kissed the extended hand of the Potentate. ”Hello, milord,” he uttered before rising, ”This is Ms. Ilona Batory, the woman of which we spoke.” Haziri stepped aside, allowing Alhazred to see Ilona in her fullness, stepping behind the Potentate and bowing his head in respect.

”Hello Ms. Batory. I am Alhazred, Potentate of Midian and Hierophant of the Faith. It is truly wondrous that I may finally lay eyes upon you.” Alhazred smiled, his aged, bearded face contorting into a smile. He kept his eyes upon her own, pondering if she truly would be such a great ally in their quests. He hoped as well.

+++

Central Market, Midian

Azlif continued to guide the individuals through the streets of Midian, showing them and lecturing them on the various edifices and inscriptions that adorned nearly every inch of the City. He kept his eye trained on the Rashid, wondering about him. He also kept his eyes on the Horrors that seemed to lurk throughout the City, monitoring the happenings of the small troop. Upon the utterance of the question by Rashid - his first time to speak throughout the trip - Alzif began in the first of a long lecture of the Midianite culture:

”The inscriptions and edifices of this City all serve a purpose. The inscriptions were drawn-out by our Benefactors in order to prepare for the Return. Each inscription is assigned to serve a specific purpose. Each edifice, too, was designed as such. Here,” Alzif pointed to an inscription upon which all but himself stood, ”This inscription was originally used - by our ancestors - in order to offer sacrifice to Those Who Dwell Beyond. A priest of the Faith - a Hierophant - would stand approximately where I do, recite the proper incantation, and offer those that stood much where you do, to the Gods. It was usually for the purpose of blessing the coming year or for other reasons mentioned in the Texts.”

Alzif believed he knew the reason for such inquiry: this individual was Attuned to the City, Those Who Dwell Beyond, and the other members of the Pantheon. Perhaps, also, he was not merely a researcher, but an agent for the commission’s senders. But would the Halladi state be so foolish as to attempt to subvert the Faith? No single individual has ever undermined the Pantheon. None ever would, lest they wish to suffer under the vengeful wrath of the Daemon Sultan.

I sleep.
But look for the Moon,
The dark mother's shadow
And blood
And bile
When they are spilled
And devoured by the hedonism
of our children.
That is when we strike.
Strike hard.
Strike fast.
Reclaim our empire.
Take it from the ones
Who walk
Who think
Who never know.
_______________

"There is forbidden fruit that needs plucking, children. Don't forget your duties." An ominous statement that didn't register with the hands, yet the soft and unassuming Greek of the woman made the intent of a statement that could be so sinister much more palatable to the young ear. The children just nodded at the dark skinned woman and moved almost immediately to get to work on the issue that was most pressing, that of fixing the boat. She slid her finger across her chin a bit in thought, watching the old yacht being shoddily put back together. This didn't seem to be the best of arrangements, but it would have to do. It's not like she had much choice.

Nicosia had not been kind to their cadre. They had been driven out from their home by the sudden feeling of attraction towards the southern shores of the Mediterranean. It was enough to make some of the cadre thing there was something to go look for. However, this woman was hardly convinced of the matter. Stretching her arms upward she watched one human go to the other in detached curiosity, a few of the local nuns leading some school children away, much too many orphans. Much too many, so many in fact that the nuns were not able to notice the dozen or so that were left in the market as the old bus began to totter off. In Nicosia, you want to forget things. That is what this woman had tried to do for a very long time.

A thousand years is a long time to try and forget, but you end up just getting more and more memories.
_______________

The message was sent by unknown means. In fact, the herald could not specifically remember where he received the delicately crafted parcel in his hands. It had been lovingly shaped out of the hide of something akin to leather, although frighteningly enough it was unknown what the material actually was. There were no markings upon it save for a strange symbol, a sigil that was vaguely familiar to some, though to most, even in this place where the ways of the Great Old Ones were common, the mythic markings beared no meaning beyond a simple, unnerving familiarity. Yes, familiarity. Many had seen the symbol before, they were sure of it. And within Midian, such "feelings" were not easily disregarded. The herald moved onwards, very nervous about his dealings, for any small interruption could very well mean his life. To show the utmost, courtesy? If that's what you wish to call it.

Trotting up behind the incoming envoy from a rather new player in the field, the herald bowed his head nervously and clutched to the leathery parcel as if it was for dear life. He could feel his heart beating in the very presence of the potentate. Usually he was not so nervous, but there was something about this thing, this situation, that was driving him. Perhaps he was ready to be snapped like a twig, nearly on the hair-length brink of falling off the knife. What a tempting thought. He would not interrupt the conversation and address of the woman however, that was for the Potentate to decide when to address the herald and his "message".

The group began to write down notes on what Alzif said. That is, until he came to the part about the Halladis standing where heirophants sacrifice people. The group slowly looked down, then moved out of the circle. Rashid lagged behind a while, looking at Alzif in the eyes, before moving to the side. Rashid remain silent, but he was getting rather annoyed with Alzif, who he could tell was only telling half-truths for most things. There must have been something else.

Just then the arab looked up, as Haifa Galila -- a female archaeologist and a Workers' Protection Agency operative -- asked some question regarding the local artitechture. There it was, up on the building across the way! Something! Something wrong and disgusting! It was nothing more than a shadow, but a chill ran down the Halladis spine and he visibly cringed. Then, a moment later it had gone, disappeared behind another building.

He shook his head, as if it were nothing, or he were trying to get an image out of his head. But, indeed, Rashid was -- the image of carnage from his dream. After all, this had been the spot where he saw the horrors of the city, and that woman, in his dream.

Carnal Palace, Midian

As Alhazred was speaking to Ms. Batory, a young Acolyte ran up beside him, bowing his head, and awaiting to be addressed. Before Ms. Batory began speaking, he turned, ”Yes, my son?” The young Acolyte lowered himself to one knee, bowed his forehead to the ground, and kissed the marble before the Potentate before rising and addressing the Arch-Hierophant.

”Milord, a letter from the Isle of Cyprus has just been... recieved,” the Acolyte spoke, handing it to the Potentate.

”Thank you, my son,” spoke Alhazred, ushering off the herald.

Alhazred noticed the small strap binding the leather-esque package. He unraveled the small parcel, flipping open the flaps, revealing a long-forgotten - and long forbidden - sigil. Alhazred stared blankly to the small crest, knowing exactly of what it meant. He quickly ushered back the Acolyte, scribbling on a small piece of paper the correct text to be sent to the Isle. Upon the paper was a simple Crest of Midian with the words, ”Dum Vivimus Servimus. (‘While we live, we serve.)’” inscribed upon the small note.

After ushering off the Acolyte once more, he turned back to Batory, ”Forgive me madam. Business is always coming to me. Now, may I lead you to the Scarlet Square?” He smiled, motioning for the other side of the vast hall. While motioning, his mind fluttering, drifting back to the Ancient Texts of Old, noting the symbol for later research.

+++

Central Market, Midian

Alzif noticed one of the group-members cringe. He quickly turned, spotting the trailing end of the being that followed the group. He quickly turned to the woman, turning her about, arms extended in order to usher the group back to the East-Side Docks, ”Now, now, it’s getting dark and you all need to be returning to your charter.” As he spoke, the sun seemed to be glimmering in the distance, dancing tendrils of red and maroon dancing across the Egyptian horizon. The night would be perilous and long - as it always was.

As the group approached the East-Side Docks, the sound of the pounding waves grew near. Alzif continued to lecture - quickly - on various items of interest and answer various questions put-forth by the commission. He kept his eyes to the gate of the East-Side Dock more than the actual people in the group. He also kept a close eye for Hounds and Horrors, keeping his wits about him for the commission. As they drew near to the gate, the final rays of the sun were flickering onto the City. He pulled-up the hood of his robes, tying the nape close about his neck.

”Now,” he began, watching the group step to the docks, ”I am afraid this will be the last of our talks for today. Tomorrow we will conclude with the remainder of the City. Sleep well.” Before they could comment the versa Alzif had closed the massive gate and locked it from behind the walls. He turned, pressing his back to the door, a Hound suddenly appearing from the corner between two buildings: it was dark and only held a vague shape; its orbs were of crimson; and its structure resemble that of a canid. It snarled at the Hierophant but soon turned and vanished into a home of one of the Midianites. In response, Alzif said a small prayer to the Dreaded Emir, thanking Him for giving them some power over His Children, and began making his way back to the Palace.

This would truly be a very long night.

Presidential Palace, City of Rose

It was just another beautiful day inside the Republic. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the flowers blowing in the air, the people being happy and is that man eating a vagina?

Sergei was looking at the Rosian version of History International, where they show documentaries on foreign subjects. The Midian State, was very foreign. The documentary was called Midianites: Barbarian Beauty. Sergei, being very bored with no nations to declare on, parties to go to, or wife to have sex with, decided to see the television. He saw, uncensored because TIOR is liberal darn it, the insane things these people did. Eating flesh and having sex with them, gluttony, and the undeserved worship of Yes. I don't care if Rick Wakeman has a cape, darn it.

How then, did this documentary team arrive inside the city and get out alive? That is a good question that I would rather not get into detail about because I'm not that creative.

Usually the Republic would open an Embassy with nations that decided to come out of the dark. The Foreign Ministry would send a dossier to the National Assembly and to the President. Of course this one was a special case, the National Assembly voted a resounding no and the President was ignorant to all of this.

Mind you the Republic has Embassies in nations where genocides are the rage.

Nevertheless Sergei felt he needed to do something, something more then a condemnation. Something so drastic that it would blow the entire world out of the way. I mean like whoa and stuff, I mean, more dramatic that a friggin' nuclear explosion.

Official Statement of the Rosian Republic
http://img165.imageshack.us/img165/4542/tiorseal0jakn7.png

The Rosian Republic just has one things to say to this... OMG WTF EWW. Also, use rubbers.

Sergei Ilyanov
President of the Republic
The Island of Rose

Well, now that that's over. Let's see what else is on, oooh True Hollywood Stories...

We will take the Rosian advice under question.

Sincerely,
Haziri
Secretarial Hierophant of Midian and the Faith

Haziri waited, escorted by several younger acolytes, for Ms. Batory to arrive. He watched as she stepped from the vessel, carrying her luggage with her. He admired her grace and beauty, noting her thick layers of sun-lotion and sunglasses used to protect her sensitive body from the perils of the Egyptian sun. ”Why hello, Dr. Batory. I am Haziri, Secretarial Hierophant for Midian and the Faith. I am here to escort you to the Palace.” He smiled cordially, his form stepping to her to take her luggage, instructing several of his escorts to carry them. He smiled softly, motioning for her to walk with him, his robes trailing several inches above the wooden planking.

He lead the moroii through the streets of Midian, noting the lack of any cars within the City, leading her to the front doors of the Palace. ”Madam,” he spoke, leading her up the left-side of the grand staircase to the thick doors at the front of the Palace, ”The Palace was constructed many years ago by our Benefactors. As you can see,” he pointed to the door and the Midianite crest above it, ”It was designed to be the home to both the head of Midian and the leader of the Faith.” Along with the Crest, the facade of the building was adorned with sculptures of weird and peculiar beings: hounds with wings, serpentine creatures, and other beasts. Various symbols in arcane and unspoken tongues danced across the ledges and angles, accompanied by various circular inscriptions and text.

Haziri pushed open the door to the Palace, leading Dr. Batory into the Grand Hall of the Palace. The building was massive, a great room with walls and floors of marble, stone edifices of various sculpts and facades jutting out from the walls. In the center of the floor sat inscribed the Crest of Midian and the Faith, embossed directly into the floor. Far above laid paintings of Angular Beings and creatures of the Tradition. The room was marvelous, burgundy, crimson, and black adorning nearly every wall. It would be almost overwhelming for any mere man to lay eyes upon. It was as if Beings from Beyond the Stars had constructed the queerly-designed architecture of the Palace. Yet, a sense of soothing calm pervaded from the walls: serenity.

At the center of the room stood a black-robed individual: Alhazred. Haziri stepped a head of Batory, bowing to one knee, and kissed the extended hand of the Potentate. ”Hello, milord,” he uttered before rising, ”This is Ms. Ilona Batory, the woman of which we spoke.” Haziri stepped aside, allowing Alhazred to see Ilona in her fullness, stepping behind the Potentate and bowing his head in respect.

”Hello Ms. Batory. I am Alhazred, Potentate of Midian and Hierophant of the Faith. It is truly wondrous that I may finally lay eyes upon you.” Alhazred smiled, his aged, bearded face contorting into a smile. He kept his eyes upon her own, pondering if she truly would be such a great ally in their quests. He hoped as well.


After greeting Haziri, and saying the usual "pleased to meet you," and all that, Ilona followed him across the dock to the city proper. Well, not exactly followed, as she walked beside him, her boots sounding audibly when they hit the wooden planking. Sometimes the wind caught her garment and pressed it close to her body, which, due to the thinness of the material, somewhat robbed the imagination of picturing what was underneath. She did not appear to care.

The Callisdrunian thought it a bit odd that there were no cars in evidence, but then, the city was fairly compact for its population, so that might have been the reason, except that there were no modern trappings of any kind in view. Quite odd indeed, as well the engravings on the streets. She did not ask about these yet.

Ilona was clearly somewhat impressed with the scale of the Palace. To her, it seemed more similar to one of Callisdrun's temples than to its royal residence, or any of the moroii clans' homes. Like most members of major moroii clans, she had grown up not in a palace, but in an ancient fortress. Not even the King lived in a palace. Her eyes traced over the seal and then studied each statue and gargoyle and relief in detail. "Very nice," she said. "So this is a sort of theocracy then, but thankfully not an Abrahamic one." It was no secret that while she didn't hate Christians, Jews and Muslims themselves, she had nothing but loathing for their religion. Thankfully, grad students of these faiths rarely applied to study under her. Once inside, she noted that the decor here was equally impressive, easily as massive and imposing as the exterior facade, yet... for some reason... oddly relaxing. Her eyes took in all the details though she said little.

Though not a woman easily surprised or overly impressed, Ilona nonetheless thought that Alhazred had the appropriate air for the leader of not only a state but a religion as well. Few in her opinion could do both. Even though her kinswoman, Eszti Batory, cut an awe-inspiring profile as High Priestess, the younger woman would not seem to fit so well as a national leader as well.

At the Potentate's words, Ilona actually blushed, to the extent a vampiress could, meaning that there was an ever so subtle change in the color of the center of her cheeks. "I am honored to meet you as well" she said, extending her slender hand, with its black painted nails, in greeting. She did not bow, presumably Alhazred would know that Callisdrunians never did. It had never risen as a practice with them, and upon discovering that foreigners did this, it became a point of pride among Callisdrunians not to do so. Ilona Batory was no exception. She had noticed that they incorrectly addressed her as "Ms." but she would correct them later if need be. First impressions counted. Even so, she grinned, revealing her barbed fangs. "Is the Scarlet Square where the ceremony I saw covered by the press happened," she asked, still grinning, teeth practically gleaming. Her voice was low and husky, and of course, like all moroii, there was a strange hissing in the background when she spoke, this trait even more pronounced in members of her clan. She had taken off her sunglasses and so now her black eyes met Alhazred's.

Alhazred watched her marvel and bathe in the glow and aura of the Great Hall. He smiled at her stout and un-compromising attitude. As she smiled, he noted her barbed canines, but did not acted surprised or disgusted. He had respect for the moroii species and their ancient customs. He often spent nights by the fire of his massive bedding-chamber, studying the Ancient Texts for their ancestors and reading newspapers and medical studies of the modern era regarding their unique culture and conditions.

”Yes, madam,” he responded to her query, ”Midian is - what is called in today’s tongue - a ‘theocracy.’ And yes, we do not worship the ‘gods’ of Abraham and Noah. We are servitors to a much older - much more powerful and esoteric - pantheon. Those Who Dwell Beyond the Gate and the Great Old Ones are our benefactors. We even revel in your Goddess Ithtyr; according to the Scribes of Old, Goddess Ithtyr was one of the Great Old Ones, walking amongst the Dread Cthulhu and the others. But I’m sure you knew of this. I hear you are of great learned nature.” As he spoke, Alhazred continued to lead the moroii into the Scarlet Square, stepping through two ornate doors in the Great Hall, leading her onto the grounds of the Square itself. ”Yes, madam, this is the square in which the New Dawn Ceremony is preformed - along with several others.”

Alhazred watched her eyes as they darted about the square, hidden behind her tinted glasses. He began to give a small lecture of the Square, stating its purpose and history, ”The Scarlet Square is the oldest portion of the City. It was originally one of the original sites where one of the Great Old Ones dwelled far before the birth of man. Many years later, it was the site of the worship to the said Ancient Ones. Upon it was built the City itself. A city built to exalt the Great Old Ones and the Nobility of the Nuclear Chaotic Court. Yet, after many years, portions of the City fell beneath the sands of Egypt. We hope to one day return the Forbidden City to its former glory. But that, madam, requires many a sacrifice by many a person.” Alhazred stood still, his form pivoting to her own, surely noting that she would inquire upon said sacrifice.

The Old Ways had found a new prophet.

"Well, actually, I had only just learned that Ithtyr, one of the two most powerful members of the Callisdrunian pantheon, also was a deity in Midian's religion, as we only just acquired some texts of your rite, they're not easy to find, you know." By "we" she meant the University of Callisdrun, though, it had really been her purchase with their money. After all, Ilona thought it was a worthwhile thing for the University to have, that book. "I was greatly surprised, to say the least. Some cultures have a religions that are a bit similar to ours, but I have never seen one that knew of the Mother of Moroii, though you of course have your own name for her," she mused, her rich voice heavily accented but still clearly understandable.

The vampiress followed the Potentate of Midian out into the square. It was a very large space, larger in person than it had looked on television. Of course, it had far fewer people in it than it had then, when Ilona had watched the coverage of it almost in a trance. "So you use it fairly often, that is good. We just finished celebrating Ithtyr, strangely enough. Well, and Loki and Skadi as well, but December 21st mostly belongs to Ithtyr."

Ilona simply listened in silence as Alhazred explained more about the square and Midian's history. She arched a thin black eyebrow above her shades when the Potentate referred to a sacrifice. "Oh? What manner of sacrifice? Centuries past, priestesses of Ithtyr used to tear out the throats of [Callisdrunian word for non-moroii], at which time they'd drink some of the blood and let the rest drain into the ceremonial bowl, which drains to the soil. You are probably aware of the fact that this has changed somewhat in that those whose blood is given are not killed and often return again and again. But every vengeance and every act of lust is still considered homage to the Queen of Howling Wolves." Callisdrunians had many names for the goddess Ithtyr, and of course, though normally her tone was casual, mildly interested in everything but not too excited or serious, Ilona spoke of the moroii's mother-lover with utmost reverence.

Alhazred stood still, listening to inquiry, being sure she had rolled the last of her most-beautiful syllables from her lips, ”Well, madam. The darkest history and purpose of the Scarlet Square has yet to be revealed to you. For, madam, it is a deep secret that only Midianites and the Cults to the Other know. But, as I’m sure you can understand why, the Sanhedrin believes that you could be of great importance to our goals - and us to yours. You see, this Square was originally the site of a mass-suicide of over five hundred individuals in an attempt to shift the celestial bodies to a more favorable position for the Other Gods and the Old Ones. However, this did not work as the sacrifice was not sufficient. Yet, it was able to raise small areas of this City from the depths of the desert.

“You see, the Gods do not feed from prayer, from love, or from adoration so much as they feed from the very life-essence of their followers: blood. In this sense, they are not much different from Ithtyr’s Children. But, to speak of what I was, this blood does not simply sink into the soil, as you can see,” Alhazred pointed to small pores in the mason floor of the Square, ”It drains to the very depths of the City where - we believe - the Great Old One Y’golonac the Defiler dwells. But, in order to free him - or at least prepare for his return - and resurect His Forbidden City from the depths of the desert, we must offer thousands - perhaps a million or more - souls to him. We hope, this is where you would come into play; for we know of your former conflict zone of Altar Rang. We hoped that you - an individual of great status in your Mother Country - would be able to herd tribesmen of this forgotten Altar Rang for culling in Midian.”

Alhazred stood silent, noting her different facial patterns. He also noted her absence of an immediate response, and took the speaking-time for his own charge, ”’Beyond a gulf in the subterranean night a passage leads to a wall of massive bricks, and beyond the wall rises the Defiler to be served by the tattered eyeless figures of the dark. Long has He slept beyond the wall, and those which crawl over the bricks scuttle across His body never knowing it to be the Defiler; but when His name is spoken or read He comes forth to be worshiped or to feed and take on the shape and soul of those He feeds upon. For those who read of evil and search for its form within their minds call forth evil, and so may the Defiler return to walk among men.’ But, Ilona - if I may - we currently do not have the adequate influence in order to herd such a sacrifice without preying upon our own population. We need you, Ilona. In exchange for this, the Other Ones will treat you with the locations of your own Hidden Cities in your Hyperborean Callisdrun, and esoteric knowledge far-beyond the simple understanding of ones own faculties.”

Alhazred had hoped the promise of knowledge would quench Dr. Batory’s thirst. The Faith truly did need her if they were to resurrect their long-forgotten City. True, it could be achieve by their own means, but it would continue to take years; while using this moroii and her already despised neighbors, it could take months or even weeks for the City to be returned to its former glory.

Only time could tell...

Central Market, Midian

Alzif noticed one of the group-members cringe. He quickly turned, spotting the trailing end of the being that followed the group. He quickly turned to the woman, turning her about, arms extended in order to usher the group back to the East-Side Docks, ”Now, now, it’s getting dark and you all need to be returning to your charter.” As he spoke, the sun seemed to be glimmering in the distance, dancing tendrils of red and maroon dancing across the Egyptian horizon. The night would be perilous and long - as it always was.

As the group approached the East-Side Docks, the sound of the pounding waves grew near. Alzif continued to lecture - quickly - on various items of interest and answer various questions put-forth by the commission. He kept his eyes to the gate of the East-Side Dock more than the actual people in the group. He also kept a close eye for Hounds and Horrors, keeping his wits about him for the commission. As they drew near to the gate, the final rays of the sun were flickering onto the City. He pulled-up the hood of his robes, tying the nape close about his neck.

”Now,” he began, watching the group step to the docks, ”I am afraid this will be the last of our talks for today. Tomorrow we will conclude with the remainder of the City. Sleep well.” Before they could comment the versa Alzif had closed the massive gate and locked it from behind the walls. He turned, pressing his back to the door, a Hound suddenly appearing from the corner between two buildings: it was dark and only held a vague shape; its orbs were of crimson; and its structure resemble that of a canid. It snarled at the Hierophant but soon turned and vanished into a home of one of the Midianites. In response, Alzif said a small prayer to the Dreaded Emir, thanking Him for giving them some power over His Children, and began making his way back to the Palace.

This would truly be a very long night.

The Halladis stood silently, after being rushed out of the city. Just for a moment, there was dead silence. But then Atanas spoke up. "Alright," he said in his deep, gutteral voice, "Let's get back to the ship and prepare for tomorrow. I want you people up at dawn -- we must use the last day as best as possible!"

Rashid let out a audible sigh, and the Haifa put her arm around him, steering him back towards the ship. The two fell behind the group, along with Ata Hosni, and began talking quietly. "Troubled, Rashid?" Asked Haifa.

"So many questions remained unanswered." Rashid retorted.

Ata let out a grunt, "That's for sure. They're definately not telling us something."

Rashid look up just then, to see Atanas staring back at him, giving him an uncomfortable look. Atanas had essentially confirmed Rashid's fears -- that he'd seen his documents and knew they were government agents. It seemed the talk would happen sooner than later. "Atanas needs to be talked to," stated Rashid, looking at his comrades. They both noded, catching his meaning. "And," he continued, "I want to go back into the city tonight. Around... 12AM."

Both of his partner concured.

* * *

At 11:30, they gathered on the deck of the Halladi ship. Atanas had been talked to already, and uneasily signed a document essentially making his life forfeit if he were to tell anyone the true identities of Rashid and his comrades. That is to say, Atanas was threatened at gunpoint. On the deck, the three met. They had with them rope, camoflauge, cameras, and most important -- guns.

The three of them ventured out onto the land, coming up to the walls. Rashid -- being the strongest of the three -- threw a grappling hook attached to the rope. It went over the wall, and he tugged on it tightly to ensure it was secure. He noded to his comrades, and Haifa began to scale the wall. One by one they made it up to the top, and atop the wall. Once they'd all made it, the took a moment to observe the city.

"I don't trust this place for a minute." Ata stated, in all seriousness. All of them agreed and said so.

"Okay, let's get moving. We should stay together for now." Rashid said, and they began to descend into the city.

Midnight in the Forbidden City (Warning: Graphic Content)

As the Halladi agents would reach the peak of the towering city walls, they would be treated with a decadent sight. Across the city, on virtually every street, stood large pyres of flame and wood, smoke billowing into the cool, night air; about these pyres were dancing Midianites, some adorned in ceremonial robes, others roaming in the bare, arcane symbols painted across their bodies; yet, what would mostly frighten and disgust the Halladis were the Hierophants and their Hieromonks, each standing around a fire, the Hierophants slicing their wrists, allowing the vermillion fluids to drain into the fire, causing the blazes to launch higher. Yet, there was yet another horror to this displays, for around each pyre were lurking beasts that appeared to be canid in nature, spare their almost incorporeal translucency and their glowing, fire-like eyes. These Hounds seemed to be circling just outside the radius of the flames radiance, delighting in the blood that spilt into the blazes.

Along with these dancing circles of sorcery and magickians, the streets and alleys were littered with men and women indulging in one another’s flesh. Just below where the agents stood was a man and a woman, the woman’s spine pinned against the wall, her ankles locked about the mains lower-back. She released a loud groan, her head tilting upward to the agents, her eyes squinted tightly shut; but suddenly, from her parted maw launched several slithering tentacles, bile and vile fluids dripping from the propelled appendages. These newly revealed limbs flailed wildly, but soon coiled themselves about the neck and head of her lover. The man suddenly released a loud groan - in unison with her own. At the moment of the carnal peak, the slimy limbs suddenly jerked, tearing the skull from the man’s spinal cord, yanking and ripping the flesh around his nape. The man’s corpse fell to the ground, the woman quickly pealing the flesh from her former lover’s cephalo, vermillion streams splattering across the walls and ground. After consuming all but the ivory of the individuals skull, her body fell over-backward, her head abruptly pivoting one-hundred and eighty degrees, allowing the woman to walk on all fours, her palms and soles of her feet against the ground, her head now plunging into the newly disemboweled body of her former lover.

The Halladis would no-doubt be disgusted by such a scene in the streets of the Forbidden City. Yet, they would find that the roof-tops of the city were clear of the debauchery and revelry. They would have a much better chance to scale the City from roof-to-roof than attempting to walk amongst the population below. Just as the Halladis were realizing this, they would catch the sight of a dark shadow slithering across a roof several hundred yards away. It seemed to slither across the tiling of the roofs, scratching sounds heard where the Halladis stood watching the beast jump from building to building. Soon, they would note that there were other being crawling the buildings and streets of Midian. Yet, it would still be the safest route for the Workers’ Protection Agency agents - or so they hoped.

Ilona listened in silence as Alhazred explained the history of the city. Apparently this was only one small part of it, though already it was a large enough metropolis, though an archaic looking one. Dusk was approaching, and in the twilight, she took off her sunglasses, allowing her black eyes to be seen. They frightened some, as if you looked deep into them, you might think you saw something... unsettling, in them.

She wasn't sure she believed in their deities. Of course, Callisdrunians, if they were pagans, almost never believed in any gods but the ones of their rite. The reason for such was that Ithtyr was said to be a very jealous goddess, and quick to anger over percieved dishonoring of her name by the worship of gods she regarded as false. Thus, Callisdrunians believed, she was prone to visit agony upon those who dared worship any foreign deity.

But what if they both exist and there is some other reason for Ithtyr to be so disposed? Ilona thought, her mind's gears working frantically. What had happened here, the raising of the city, apparently could not be explained scientifically, and so there was strong evidence for the existance of the Midian gods. Yet, she had seen... things... that suggested strongly to her that her own gods were present, especially Ithtyr, though of course, she was also a goddess to the Midianites.

She continued to think in silence as the Midian leader explained to her his, and presumably his people's goals. This Y'golonac must be their patron god or something similar. If he and Ithtyr are two of the same kind of thing, peers as it were, why then do the sagas of our gods make no mention of him? This deity of theirs sounded a bit ominous, even to her. Ithtyr could be cruel and destructive, and of course was always vengeful and filled with lust, but the vampiric goddess was not evil. She did not punish the just, and treated those of her children and followers who greatly pleased her most kindly. Her mind seemed to twist and turn, trying to wrap itself around the problem, that being the absence of mention of Midian's patron in any of the sagas pertaining to Ithtyr. All this happened in a few seconds, as her mind soon worked out a possibility. Perhaps Ithtyr, sought to carve out her own private domain, that being Callisdrun, or Hyperborea as they call it, and guards it jealously. This still did not account for the other Callisdrunian gods, of which only Odin was Ithtyr's equal in power. Had they already been there and Ithtyr had simply had to agree to reign cooperatively with them? Were they also these, Great Old Ones that Alhazred spoke of? Or something else?

She was still pondering this when Alhazred finished, but now Ilona was also attempting to understand what she was being asked to do. It would be a huge undertaking, and she had no idea how she could accomplish it. "Alhazred, if I may call you that, you can call me Ilona if you'd like, as if what you propose does come to pass we will need to be on a familiar basis... anyway, this is... a monumental task. I am a professor, a scientist, a scholar, and of course, could be called a serial murderer, but I am not a Queen or Prime Minister." She paused to add gravity to her words. Her voice was still rather sensual, it was always that way, it could not sound otherwise, even when it was also serious. "I would like to help you, and it would seem, help myself at the same time, as all knowledge is worth having. I would hate to disappoint you, but I have never done such a thing." Looking at the sun quickly setting beyond the horizon, as she strolled a few paces, idly, around the square and then looking back towards Alhazred, she continued "It would be easy of course, for me to kill a million Altar Rangians there, though not as fun as tearing out the throat of one and feasting in person. I could get an atomic bomb and smuggle it to one of their cities. But leading a million of them to die here? That will be much more difficult." Walking back over to him, or swaying rather, she regarded him with an odd, somehow, knowing look. "And as I'm sure you must have predicted, your revelations have aroused some questions in my thoughts." She smiled, Alhazred was no fool, he would of course have known about Ithtyr's tendencies, having apparently made sure to study their shared deity before Ilona's arrival. He would probably be able to guess at least the general area of things a Callisdrunian might wonder about. "Perhaps you even know what they are," she said slyly.

Sacrifice Square, Carnal Palace, Midian

Alhazred stood, his hands folded before him, watching Ilona walk about the Square, noting her awe and deep thought in response to his query. He watched the thoughts of his proposition roll about in her skull, the thoughts of the sacrifice needed the be made, and the amounts of preparation that would be necessary in order for such a monumental task. Alhazred pondered of exactly what was rolling about her mind: the unexplainable way in which the City rose from the sands of Egypt, the unique way of life that has survived in the City, and the population’s explanation for almost everything. It was all too much to take-in during one sitting. If it were anyone other than the doctor, it would have caused mental anguish and breakdown. Luckily - especially for the Potentate - an individual of high intelligence was meeting with him, not an unenlightened knave.

He listened to her small lecture, continuing to stand rigid as she spoke, keeping his eyes on her own. He listened to her explanation, and the hundreds of problems entailed within the proposition. ”Madam,” he finally uttered, ”There are certain tasks which could be undertaken in order to place you as both Queen and Prime Minister. If this were to take place,” he smiled, his elderly, learned, and even comforting face beaming to Ilona, ”Do you believe that you could achieve such a monumental undertaking?” He grinned wider, watching as her form drew closer. He had planned for such a lecture before her coming. It would be fairly simple, really. All that was necessary was to empower the Batory family of Callisdrun with Ilona installed as matriarch of the clan, form an insurrection or - perhaps - even simple political maneuvering, and place her as Empress of the Callisdrunian Empire and All of Her Dominions, Realms, and Territories. With this amount of power, Ilona would be capable of relocating troublesome individuals to the region surrounding Midian. With this undertaking accomplished, it was only a matter of how to slaughter the poor mounds of flesh.

”Perhaps, Ilona,” Alhazred smirked, his oculars peering directly into her own. ”Perhaps such knowledge as we have could be bestowed upon you; but, as I’m sure you know, this would require the completion of your portion of the yet-to-be-finalized contract. A - what the Westerners call - a ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch your back’ situation. In exchange for power, knowledge, and control, we would receive protection, commerce, and necessities.” Alhazred stepped closer to her, placing his hands behind his back, placing his right shoulder close to her own, ”Would such a situation be satisfactory to the Mistress from the North?” He chuckled faintly, his orbs darting to her own as a cool breeze swirled about them.

Yes, he thought, this may be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

"We can talk about 'what if' situations all we want, but that does not change the fact that I could never become the monarch and would stand little chance of being elected Prime Minister," she said, not yet fully realizing what he meant, so far was the thought from her mind. "The only anti-moroii law left on the books is the one barring a female from marrying into the royal family or ascending the iron throne. Even if that law were repealed, the only clan that would be able to make any sort of claim to it would be the Sorviks, which is ironic since they are communists."

"No doubt, with that kind of power I could..." Her voice trailed off, as what Alhazred had been suggestion fully dawned on her. The thought of assassinating Callisdrun's leaders and seizing power had surprisingly been so far from her mind that she hadn't even realized what he was proposing. Ilona's black eyes narrowed, clearly, the answer was no, to that specific means only though, not to the general project of killing thousands of Altar Rangians. "Alhazred," she began, slowly, trying not to say things too harshly, as the man clearly thought much of her, if he had been prepared to do whatever he could to somehow get her on the iron throne. "Many assume, mistakenly, that because of the manner in which I take my recreation, that I have no sense of honor or morals." She paused, and one might see almost a hint of regret in her eyes. Not for her behavior, she clearly made no apologies about that and would do it all again, but at the assumptions that people made about her. "They misjudge me," she continued finally. "While it is true that most Altar Rangian lives mean nothing to me, and that I don't limit myself with the views of other people regarding my sexuality, I am nothing if not a patriot. I will not commit treason, there is nothing worse than a traitor." She let that sink in, just to make sure they were perfectly clear. Her face adopted a much softer cast. "Besides, I know the Pendrunsks and though they don't approve of how I spend my free time, we are friends of a sort, and my niece, the High Priestess, who I care about quite a lot, is very good friends with the crown princess. I assure you, I want to help you in this, and I think we can still generate a workable plan, but treason is not the way." Also, present in her thoughts, was that he had not answered her more philosophical and religious questions, perhaps she'd have to ask them explicitly.

Alhazred watched her, listening to her retort to his plan. He pondered her nature for a moment: she was brutal, efficient, and intelligent; yet unwilling to do something as simple as ascending to the throne. He kept his orbs on the moroii, contemplating his own return. As she finished, he noticed her faint hint of distress at his “assumption.” Yet, his plan had to be enacted - at any cost, ”Ilona, there are reports and rumors that you are one of - if not the - most intelligent individual in your homeland. Your colleagues praise you and elevate you to such a tier that no man could ever even dream of reaching. Yet, you allow incompetent leaders rule your country and attempt to act in the ‘best interests’ of your people. Your monarch, while an intelligent individual, he is old fashioned and unwilling to push Callisdrun forward. He is unwilling to revolutionize the country of Callisdrun.

“Yet, you, Ilona, are intelligent, charismatic, and dare I say beautiful. And I believe that it is time for a truly intelligent woman to come to power in Callisdrun. Have you ever wondered why?” He stepped closer to her, his deep, aged, learned eyes peering directly into her own, ”Have you ever stopped to think that maybe - just maybe - that they - the government, the King, the Prime Minister, et cetra - fear you? Have you ever thought that because of your gender and your nature that they are afraid? I have no doubts that you are a patriot, Dr. Batory, but perhaps your coming to power is patriotic. Perhaps it is something that could pull your country back into the power that it once was.”

The Potentate stepped back from her, keeping his form peering to her own. A strange aura seemed to permeate from his construct, his learned grin seeming to release a queer-sense of power and control. He continued to await his reply, keeping his figure before the Batory, watching as the gears within her crown rolled about and clicked into place, contemplating exactly what he was saying.

As night enfolded the sky with its shroud, Ilona seemed more in her element. To many foreigners, the tall, pale woman would have been a nightmare come to life. Not here of course, though of course vampires were always more impressive at night. Her black eyes revealed that she was, as her ancestors were, a nocturnal predator.

However, at the moment, they had a more reflective look to them. "My talents are not the ones most suited to political office, I am a scholar and an advisor. I can do much more in secret and behind closed doors than I ever could elevated to the throne, as if it could happen anyway." Though she spoke of things she was unable to do here, she somehow radiated confidence at the same time. Ilona Batory knew herself very well, and knew her abilities and limitations. "The constitution is very strict about succession. Even if the law against moroii ascending the throne were repealed, I'd still have no chance. Batory clan is not linked by blood to the house of Pendrunsk in the slightest, and I doubt any Batory is specified on the secret list of heirs."

She paused, putting her hands on her sensuous hips. "Of course they fear me. Not because of my gender or the fact that I'm moroii, though. Callisdrun is a traditionally matriarchal society, and there have been moroii Prime Ministers before. No, the reason why everone fears me is because I'm well... me." An almost maniacal laugh followed the last sentence. "The leadership we have is hardly incompetant. Despite a third of our population being wiped out in war seventy years ago, the nation has been built back into more than it was before. I really can't fault the Pendrunsk family, they've served my country for over a thousand years, and managed to keep us alive, even surrounded by those who want to destroy us." There was the tinest hint of admiration in her voice.

"The people would not accept a Batory monarch, and they shouldn't, we blew our chance at leadership. You see, once we ruled Istengrad and the lands around it. Unfortunately, the ancestors of mine in power grew too fond of it, and became more concerned about their own trappings of power and luxury than about governing Istengrad, and so, after Callisdrin and Drun unified, were deposed by their own citizens, who greeted annexation into Callisdrun quite gleefully. It took us four hundred years to fully redeem ourselves." There was a bit of bitterness in her voice, though not at Callisdrun, but at her own ancestors who had run Istengrad into the ground. "My apologies," she said, her tone suddenly different. "I didn't mean to ramble. I am a sometime historian after all."

Her hands were still on her hips, highlighting her feminine form. Ilona looked up and around before speaking again. "The sky is so beautiful at night, though the position of certain stars is different here," she mused. There was another long pause before she spoke again. "I don't see why you think it is necessary for me to somehow take the throne to help you in this. I'd probably be able to do less in the effort from there, as I wouldn't be able to be as discreet. Besides, you needn't worry about attack from foreign nations, I know with a little nudging, my government will be only too glad to stop what they'll see as religious persecution." Her eyes narrowed and a smile came to her face. "I think I've found a way to get Altar Rangians here very quietly, as well."

OOC: Jeez, whenever I want to write something long, I can't, and whenever I'm not trying to, I end up doing so. Blah.