Waldenburg 2
07-08-2007, 00:50
Moisture clung to every leaf, to every frond, and every sweating brow. It had always been this way and the native could walk through it without breaking a sweat, apparently able to halt at a moments notice for a game of football without collapsing of heat stroke.
“They are a novel people, surely less civilized, and of course their brains are much small but they have adapted to their environment and live there happily.” A jeep was pulling it’s was sluggishly through the mudding excuse of a road, it’s internal fan melting the sweat on the brows of the occupants. Who happen to be in ranges of importance from bishop, prelate, captain and native the grand scale of Waldenburg. “It must be said for them they know how to sow good coffee, perhaps that is why the Emperor kept this place?” There was a ripple of polite laughter the native who could not understand most of the words started laughing half way through on the indication of a smile from the captain.
Bishop Howarez did not join the small group in their laughter but continued, with pious control to bight down the heat stroke, it perhaps had been unwise to wear full choir robes, but you had to put on a show for the natives. “It that it?” He asked as the jeep started to pull to a halt outside what would be a one-horse town provided it weren’t half way out into the jungle where the only horse would be taken down by some of the less deadly sort of parrots.
“Yes,” the native mumbled and brought the jeep to a halt, spraying mud over the side of an adobe house. As far as the occupants were aware there was no one alive on the streets, there were a few chickens walking morosely and pecking at the mud, but nothing suggesting there was someone there to great them.
“So the rumors are true?” The Prelate asked stiffly, “Probably just trying to get out of a good days work lazy bastards. “Perhaps your Grace you should wait in the car while I find the man responsible for this.”
The Bishop daintily stepped out of the car, or at least began to before he noticed the puddle right underneath his door. The Bishop snapped his fingers and the native driver threw himself down for the Bishop to step down. “If we are to believe the rumors then this is not the work of sloth or disease but that of the devil. Prelate, search the town see if anyone still breathes.” It was a simple affair to search the few buildings, and a great relief when the Prelate rushed out holding a cross in his hands, and mumbling in Latin.
“No one is there,” he reported short of breath, “no bodies no people, all the possessions stacked neatly nothing out of place, the church was empty and there was no priest.”
“Laziness still prelate? No, but Captain please search the area I do not want any stone unturned find what had happened to these people. It is my belief that the peasants are telling the truth on this one, not all of it perhaps” The Bishop turned to the driver and yelled, trying to make up for the fact they didn’t speak the same language, “Go with him.” The driver only smiled.
“Go with the captain!” Still only a smile, “My God I don’t know why I bother.” Howarez turned and whispered his last condemnation down the barrel of a Mauser C96 pointed at his forehead, before he went home.
St Michael’s Cathedral Blünderburg 7 Days Later
“Your Grace,” the young priest rose and bowed from the waist nearly smashing a candlestick over as the Archbishop flowed by robes billowing behind him and hands clasped in religious humility. The Archbishop gave a curt nod, to every desk he passed and as he walked down the great passageway his neck must have been of fire. There were literally hundreds of young priests folding and stacking thousands of pieces of paper, lined at little rickety desks behind whom great scenes of the Church were played out in massive ten meter high windows. It truly was a sight to see, provided you hadn’t seen the rest of the cathedral. It flowed out from a massive tower, roof of silver, and walls of white marble.
Thousands of men worked there everyday, and it seemed everyday that more people would die in fires surrounding the grand tower the smoke darkening the white tower. Usually the marvel was lost on the Bishops, and they walked around the massive halls only to reach their destination. “Corporal,” the Archbishop waved to two men at the double doors at the end of the hall, which two guards flung open to the private office of the Cardinal, the head of the Waldenburger Church.
“James,” The Cardinal stood and waved off the bow of the Archbishop. “Thank you for coming so quickly, most of the provincial Bishops take days.”
“Thank you your Grace, but I had some assistance some of the monks are compiling a map and it was quite helpful.”
“I imagine they do, they are straying quite a lot from the orders they receive they are getting ideas above their station.” The Cardinal cleared his throat and pulled at his hair which came down in clumps over his forehead, “There are strange things happening in your diocese, If I am correct another bishop has vanished and two towns have been mysteriously wiped of population is this correct?”
“In so many words yes, though we found some survivors of the towns their testimonies have been discounted as quite absurd.”
“What are these things they say?”
“They all make reference to a black monster, or shadow, or beast, only the black remains a constant. The bishops are drawn to this sort of thing by nature, they believe the way to advancement is how many exorcisms can be done in under an hour. Three so far have disappeared along with their entourage. I put out a warning after the first but the black shadow drags them in.”
“I shall put out an Bull on the matter, we can’t have this spreading.” The two men shared a moment there in the sun bathed study of the Cardinal, it was a all to their own moment and both understood that shadows can be burned away. “But I believe that is only a start to the problems we are having, the ‘Shadow’ must be force away, whether it is a demon or simply men disobeying the Heavenly Ordinances we shall see.”
“There have been stories, mainly from the conquistadors of old magic in Brazil, terrible things summoned by Inca priests and set upon those who worship the one true God. They still persist today in the smaller villages no matter what methods we use to crush these lies.”
“I,” The Cardinal said standing and began rummaging around for the last accessories of his choir robes, “have always been under the impression that the only evil that surrounds you is that which you bring with you.” He rammed his hat on his head and fit a ring of ruby upon his finger, “in several days an expedition will be sent to Brazil to ascertain the exact nature of this threat faced by the Church. You, as senior Archbishop will take charge and are given pardon for any sins that you may commit while wiping this stain from the earth. You are allowed any methods, any resources, heresy must be destroyed quickly, or we shall face the never-ending torment of the Devil’s work.” The Cardinal began to stroll to the doors from which James had entered, “Take the Divine Legion and perform your Divine task. “ He stopped turning to face the Archbishop who kneeled to receive his blessing, The doors were flung open to the desk and the sun of a new day.
“They are a novel people, surely less civilized, and of course their brains are much small but they have adapted to their environment and live there happily.” A jeep was pulling it’s was sluggishly through the mudding excuse of a road, it’s internal fan melting the sweat on the brows of the occupants. Who happen to be in ranges of importance from bishop, prelate, captain and native the grand scale of Waldenburg. “It must be said for them they know how to sow good coffee, perhaps that is why the Emperor kept this place?” There was a ripple of polite laughter the native who could not understand most of the words started laughing half way through on the indication of a smile from the captain.
Bishop Howarez did not join the small group in their laughter but continued, with pious control to bight down the heat stroke, it perhaps had been unwise to wear full choir robes, but you had to put on a show for the natives. “It that it?” He asked as the jeep started to pull to a halt outside what would be a one-horse town provided it weren’t half way out into the jungle where the only horse would be taken down by some of the less deadly sort of parrots.
“Yes,” the native mumbled and brought the jeep to a halt, spraying mud over the side of an adobe house. As far as the occupants were aware there was no one alive on the streets, there were a few chickens walking morosely and pecking at the mud, but nothing suggesting there was someone there to great them.
“So the rumors are true?” The Prelate asked stiffly, “Probably just trying to get out of a good days work lazy bastards. “Perhaps your Grace you should wait in the car while I find the man responsible for this.”
The Bishop daintily stepped out of the car, or at least began to before he noticed the puddle right underneath his door. The Bishop snapped his fingers and the native driver threw himself down for the Bishop to step down. “If we are to believe the rumors then this is not the work of sloth or disease but that of the devil. Prelate, search the town see if anyone still breathes.” It was a simple affair to search the few buildings, and a great relief when the Prelate rushed out holding a cross in his hands, and mumbling in Latin.
“No one is there,” he reported short of breath, “no bodies no people, all the possessions stacked neatly nothing out of place, the church was empty and there was no priest.”
“Laziness still prelate? No, but Captain please search the area I do not want any stone unturned find what had happened to these people. It is my belief that the peasants are telling the truth on this one, not all of it perhaps” The Bishop turned to the driver and yelled, trying to make up for the fact they didn’t speak the same language, “Go with him.” The driver only smiled.
“Go with the captain!” Still only a smile, “My God I don’t know why I bother.” Howarez turned and whispered his last condemnation down the barrel of a Mauser C96 pointed at his forehead, before he went home.
St Michael’s Cathedral Blünderburg 7 Days Later
“Your Grace,” the young priest rose and bowed from the waist nearly smashing a candlestick over as the Archbishop flowed by robes billowing behind him and hands clasped in religious humility. The Archbishop gave a curt nod, to every desk he passed and as he walked down the great passageway his neck must have been of fire. There were literally hundreds of young priests folding and stacking thousands of pieces of paper, lined at little rickety desks behind whom great scenes of the Church were played out in massive ten meter high windows. It truly was a sight to see, provided you hadn’t seen the rest of the cathedral. It flowed out from a massive tower, roof of silver, and walls of white marble.
Thousands of men worked there everyday, and it seemed everyday that more people would die in fires surrounding the grand tower the smoke darkening the white tower. Usually the marvel was lost on the Bishops, and they walked around the massive halls only to reach their destination. “Corporal,” the Archbishop waved to two men at the double doors at the end of the hall, which two guards flung open to the private office of the Cardinal, the head of the Waldenburger Church.
“James,” The Cardinal stood and waved off the bow of the Archbishop. “Thank you for coming so quickly, most of the provincial Bishops take days.”
“Thank you your Grace, but I had some assistance some of the monks are compiling a map and it was quite helpful.”
“I imagine they do, they are straying quite a lot from the orders they receive they are getting ideas above their station.” The Cardinal cleared his throat and pulled at his hair which came down in clumps over his forehead, “There are strange things happening in your diocese, If I am correct another bishop has vanished and two towns have been mysteriously wiped of population is this correct?”
“In so many words yes, though we found some survivors of the towns their testimonies have been discounted as quite absurd.”
“What are these things they say?”
“They all make reference to a black monster, or shadow, or beast, only the black remains a constant. The bishops are drawn to this sort of thing by nature, they believe the way to advancement is how many exorcisms can be done in under an hour. Three so far have disappeared along with their entourage. I put out a warning after the first but the black shadow drags them in.”
“I shall put out an Bull on the matter, we can’t have this spreading.” The two men shared a moment there in the sun bathed study of the Cardinal, it was a all to their own moment and both understood that shadows can be burned away. “But I believe that is only a start to the problems we are having, the ‘Shadow’ must be force away, whether it is a demon or simply men disobeying the Heavenly Ordinances we shall see.”
“There have been stories, mainly from the conquistadors of old magic in Brazil, terrible things summoned by Inca priests and set upon those who worship the one true God. They still persist today in the smaller villages no matter what methods we use to crush these lies.”
“I,” The Cardinal said standing and began rummaging around for the last accessories of his choir robes, “have always been under the impression that the only evil that surrounds you is that which you bring with you.” He rammed his hat on his head and fit a ring of ruby upon his finger, “in several days an expedition will be sent to Brazil to ascertain the exact nature of this threat faced by the Church. You, as senior Archbishop will take charge and are given pardon for any sins that you may commit while wiping this stain from the earth. You are allowed any methods, any resources, heresy must be destroyed quickly, or we shall face the never-ending torment of the Devil’s work.” The Cardinal began to stroll to the doors from which James had entered, “Take the Divine Legion and perform your Divine task. “ He stopped turning to face the Archbishop who kneeled to receive his blessing, The doors were flung open to the desk and the sun of a new day.