Anadyr Islands
14-05-2007, 15:20
The Mahdi was not a young man anymore. Indeed, he was not an old man anymore either; He was practically ancient. His formerly lustrous and energetic face now cascaded with wrinkles and decoloration on his tan skin. His scraggly beard had become white, following what his hair had done only a few months ago, though this was unknown due to the large turban that adorned the top of his head. He seldom smiled anymore, as he had when he saw the glorious war of Conquest, 30 years ago. His only pleasure nowadays stemmed from his nearly constant praying and recital of his most holy poetry from the Kitab Al-Wihda, or The Book of Unity. Politically, he had left much of the nation's domestic and military affairs to be run by the General Mohammed De Santiago. He seemed to be a capable sort, and all the Mahdi wanted to do now was compose poetry and give sermons. He was not interested in politics, though there one burning desire that he had been pushing for recently. He wished to continue the conquest of Europe, if only taking the initial step of uniting Spain under the Sacred Union's Wihdaiste banner. The only problem was Iceland's infidel fascist regime, which controlled the areas closest to Europa.
Today, however, was a day of change. The Mahdi's constant ranting had finally reached the ears of the General, who had allegedly gathered enough troops to engage in such a conflict. All he needed now was a letter from the Mahdi himself to seriously commit themselves to the plan. The General stormed into the Holy Abode of the Mahdi, and placed himself in a chair most near to golden couch that the old Prophet was reclining on at the moment. He seemed to be sunk into an inescapable reverie, repeating various prayers and clicking the beads of his rosary together as he kept them moving in a steady pattern.
The general, surrounded by his bodygaurds, coughed, "Your Holiness..."
"Hmm... yes, yes, what is it now?" The Mahdi seemed startled, but awake. He sat up straight on the couch, and stared at the General with his most mystical eyes.
"Most Blessed One, if you remember our discussion on the Fate of Andalucia, I suggested we should engage in armed diplomacy. If this does not work, a glorious holy war will be launched. However, first, for diplomacy to work..."The General approached the frail, old Theocrat as a son would approach his senile, old father, pulling out a letter, written by a scribe and translated for the sake of the Infidels. "We only require a signature."
"Hmm..." Taking the letter, the Mahdi read silently for a few minutes. After removing his glance from the paper, he spoke softly, signing with a feather pen the general had handed to him. "Yes, this will be most sublime. I agree..."
The General smiled, and for the first time in a long time, so did the Mahdi. He held out his bony old hand for the General to kiss, which he did immediately. The General then took the letter and handed it to his advisor to send immediately, while the General remained behind to discuss further matters with the the Most Holy of Holies.
**********************************************************
The letter later arrived in the hands of a domestic official in Icelandic Andalucia, where it read like this:
Dear Esteemed Leader of Fascist Iceland,
We, the Most Blessed Among the Blessed, the Divine's Hand on Earth, do send you this letter of informing you that the current situation in your occupation of Southern Spain is rather unacceptable. You are foreign occupiers, and have no true lineage to this land. Why, then, we do ask, do you insist on continuing to control these lands?
We do not wish to enter into a conflict with you, and we are ready to settle this dispute rather easily. If you are willing to relinquish your claims and deliver Andalucia into Europa's open arms, we will reward you greatly. Trade agreements, a possible treaty or an arms trade agreement would be in order.
However, if you continue to stubbornly continue your pointless hold on these lands, we have no choice but to take them from you. We only wish to have what is part of our land, since we are not Wihdaiste, but also Spanish, and European at the same time.
As spiritual leader of Europia, I salute you and eagerly ask you to accept the peaceful resolution, for the sake of both our peoples. I would hate to have to resort to sending any of your troops to Hell any earlier than the All-Mighty orginally planned.
From His Holiness, The Mahdi Bahaúllah El Mukhtar
Today, however, was a day of change. The Mahdi's constant ranting had finally reached the ears of the General, who had allegedly gathered enough troops to engage in such a conflict. All he needed now was a letter from the Mahdi himself to seriously commit themselves to the plan. The General stormed into the Holy Abode of the Mahdi, and placed himself in a chair most near to golden couch that the old Prophet was reclining on at the moment. He seemed to be sunk into an inescapable reverie, repeating various prayers and clicking the beads of his rosary together as he kept them moving in a steady pattern.
The general, surrounded by his bodygaurds, coughed, "Your Holiness..."
"Hmm... yes, yes, what is it now?" The Mahdi seemed startled, but awake. He sat up straight on the couch, and stared at the General with his most mystical eyes.
"Most Blessed One, if you remember our discussion on the Fate of Andalucia, I suggested we should engage in armed diplomacy. If this does not work, a glorious holy war will be launched. However, first, for diplomacy to work..."The General approached the frail, old Theocrat as a son would approach his senile, old father, pulling out a letter, written by a scribe and translated for the sake of the Infidels. "We only require a signature."
"Hmm..." Taking the letter, the Mahdi read silently for a few minutes. After removing his glance from the paper, he spoke softly, signing with a feather pen the general had handed to him. "Yes, this will be most sublime. I agree..."
The General smiled, and for the first time in a long time, so did the Mahdi. He held out his bony old hand for the General to kiss, which he did immediately. The General then took the letter and handed it to his advisor to send immediately, while the General remained behind to discuss further matters with the the Most Holy of Holies.
**********************************************************
The letter later arrived in the hands of a domestic official in Icelandic Andalucia, where it read like this:
Dear Esteemed Leader of Fascist Iceland,
We, the Most Blessed Among the Blessed, the Divine's Hand on Earth, do send you this letter of informing you that the current situation in your occupation of Southern Spain is rather unacceptable. You are foreign occupiers, and have no true lineage to this land. Why, then, we do ask, do you insist on continuing to control these lands?
We do not wish to enter into a conflict with you, and we are ready to settle this dispute rather easily. If you are willing to relinquish your claims and deliver Andalucia into Europa's open arms, we will reward you greatly. Trade agreements, a possible treaty or an arms trade agreement would be in order.
However, if you continue to stubbornly continue your pointless hold on these lands, we have no choice but to take them from you. We only wish to have what is part of our land, since we are not Wihdaiste, but also Spanish, and European at the same time.
As spiritual leader of Europia, I salute you and eagerly ask you to accept the peaceful resolution, for the sake of both our peoples. I would hate to have to resort to sending any of your troops to Hell any earlier than the All-Mighty orginally planned.
From His Holiness, The Mahdi Bahaúllah El Mukhtar