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fluffiest_archadian“Emperor Gramis Gana Solidor has been murdered.”
Consul Amondsham (a severe, greying man dressed in muted military grey) had had every division captain, along with Major Ronick, summoned to his chambers, with instructions to come immediately. There's no preamble to his announcement: Ronick starts forward at it, eyes wide, while Captain Vanna looks like she might throw up. Captain Beor's hands tighten into fists.
Amondsham slides his fingers across the desk, and a glimmering hologram of Judge Magister Bergan in full armour appears.
“This is an outgoing message from the Ministry of Law to all consuls and governors of the Archadian Empire,” Bergan growls. “At approximately seven-twenty this morning, His Excellency Emperor Gramis Gana Solidor was poisoned and murdered.
“Param Gregoroth, Chairman of the Imperial Senate, has confessed in full to the murder and beset by grief and shame, taken his own life. The Senate in its entirety has been arrested under charges of treason, conspiracy and fraud, and await the investigation of the Ministry of Law.
In addition, Judge Magister Drace has been found guilty of treason, having bared steel against His Excellency Vayne Solidor with intent to cause harm. Judge Magister Gabranth has passed the sentence of death upon her, and her family has been detained until preparations for their exile might be made.
In absence of senate to aid the election of a new emperor, and with the Rozarrians yet arraying themselves for war, the Ministry of Law has imbued Vayne Solidor with the power of autocrat, as is our right. Until this crisis is resolved, His Excellency Lord Vayne shall assume control in full of the Empire.
In this time of crisis, it is necessary that His Excellency the late Emperor Gramis' family are kept safe. To this end, if Lord Larsa, currently on pilgrimage to the holy peaks of Mt. Bur-Omisace, should pass through your territories, you are permitted by the Ministry of Law to detain him until he can be retrieved and returned to Archades.
That is all.”
The message ends abruptly, the glimmering image fizzling out. Amondsham pours himself a glass of wine, mulling it about. He seems entirely unsure how to follow up the message.
“Obviously, we are in a strategically important position. This news will begin reaching the people before long, and we cannot allow our security to be compromised. Captain Maduin, see to the readiness of the Western defences. Captain Beor, I give you full discretion to attend to any uprising of insurgents that may be bolstered by this news, and to contain any panic.”
Sherral glances over at Beor. The man is a brute, and everyone – except, perhaps, Amondsham – knows it, and he looks positively delighted at the excuse to cause trouble.
---
'Trouble' of a sort comes in a captain's meeting three days later.
“The insurgents yet hide in Lowtown, and there they ferment,” Beor insists. “It is a place consumed by rebellion, and sedition is the faith of everyone who dwells there. I request permission to conduct a large-scale raid there.”
“Captain Beor exaggerates,” Major Ronick says quickly. Amondsham raises an eyebrow, pouring himself some wine. “The insurgents do indeed make their home in the tunnels of Lowtown, but it is mostly the poor and destitute, who are no threat to the Empire. The reason we have not raided those homes and businesses is because they are packed so densely that for each true insurgent we found we would do injury to a hundred innocents.”
Beor scoffs. “They do not even pay taxes to the Empire.”
“We don't charge them taxes. Emperor Gramis commanded that Lowtown be left free of taxes, as it was during the reign of King Raminas,” Sherral says sharply.
“His Excellency lies dead,” Beor replies.
“And his body is not yet cooled before you suggest disregarding his express commands,” Sherral says. He turns to Amondsham. “A raid on Lowtown will only inflame rebellious feelings. We will see the Insurgency double in number if we do this.”
Beor scoffs again. It's an incredibly annoying sound and Sherral wants to punch him. “Perhaps we should worry for the West wall. When the Rozarrians arrive you will give them tea and biscuits so as not to agitate them.”
“With all due respect, only one of us has actually served on the front lines during a war,” Sherral says. “Although I'm sure your wealth of experience guarding – what was it, the East wing of Draklor Laboratory during the war? - will be of enormous use should the insurgents be mostly research staff.”
Beor scowls. “Consul Amondsham, permission to administer Captain Maduin twenty lashes for being discourteous to a fellow officer.”
Amondsham sips his wine, mulling it over. “Not this time, Beor. Conduct your raids, but I expect to hear you acting with care and thought. The tax issue will remain for another day when our emperor's death is not so fresh.”
Beor inclines his head.
Amondsham lifts a finger before he can say anything. “Captain Maduin, you will accompany Captain Beor on these raids. Arrange for six of your men to accompany you and make provisions for the West division to be run in your absence. Mark well, while on this mission you will be under Beor's command as one of his men. I will expect reports from both of you on the outcome.”
Beor's scowl is back, but he inclines his head and salutes anyway. Sherral does the same.
---
The raids are disastrous.
Beor is the worst kind of soldier: Short sighted, violent, and in love with power. As the raids progress through Lowtown, Beor treats the citizens there as if they were prisoners of war, pushing them into kneeling in the street – and as he increasingly finds no evidence of insurgents, he becomes more anxious, and the anxiety trickles out to his troops. Before long Beor has them ransacking houses and businesses at his whim, while he yells for the Lowtown citizens to admit their treachery. Sherral knows why: As hard as Beor pushed for this, as many men and gil and time that he poured into it, if he finds nothing he will draw the ire of Major Ronick and Consul Amondsham, or worse, the Judge Magisters – and drawing the ire of the latter always means death.
His panic grows, and like an infection it is passed to the men of the City Guard. By the last quarter of Lowtown, their organisation and discipline is breaking down. It's a disgrace to the Empire, and Sherral wonders for how long before this Beor's nature has been eroding their discipline.
Sherral finds Beor and pulls him to one side. His objections are met with a stern command to remove his helmet. He does, because he is under Beor's command and duty bound to follow, and he has a moment to see Beor pull up the visor of his own helmet, and then an armoured fist across the face, then another to the same spot that brings him down to the ground, and then a third to the back of the head that leaves him seeing spots.
Beor puts a boot on the base of his neck and warns him that the next time Sherral interrupts his work, he'll be made a proper example of. He demands that Sherral confirm that he is being clear. Sherral does. The demand is made again. Sherral confirms again.
The raids continue. Sherral picks up his helmet and follows on wobbly legs. When they reach the end of Lowtown, Beor yells for another sweep.
---
It is but two days later that the next message comes through. This one isn't from the Empire. It comes filtered through refugees arriving through the Estersand on chocobos.
Gran Kiltias Anastasis is dead. The pilgrim's village upon Mount Bur-Omisace is burning. Worse still, it is the work of the Archadian Empire. A Judge Magister and his men slaughtered their way through the town and murdered the Gran Kiltias in his temple.
That night, a group of drunk Dalmascans throw glass bottles with burning rags and needles in them at the barracks and scream about them being murderers. Nobody is injured.
The next day, Amondsham declares a curfew, to be enforced by the city guard. It isn't until it's nearly evening that a message comes from the Empire: A long-winded thing explaining that Judge Magister Bergan, Judge Magister Zargabaath, and Judge Magister Gabranth approached the Kiltia at Bur-Omisace peacefully, seeking only the return of the Emperor's youngest son, Lord Larsa. Seeking to consolidate political power and in illicit alliance with Rozarrian intelligence, the message says, Anastasis had held the young lord against his will. Judge Magister Bergan was forced to intervene, and in so doing perished in battle.
It is the most obvious pack of lies Sherral has ever read.
It's enough, however. Amondsham, Ronick and Beor apparently believe it, or pretend to. The Kiltian chapels of Rabanastre are quickly shut down, and the Kiltia who tend them imprisoned.
Consul Amondsham (a severe, greying man dressed in muted military grey) had had every division captain, along with Major Ronick, summoned to his chambers, with instructions to come immediately. There's no preamble to his announcement: Ronick starts forward at it, eyes wide, while Captain Vanna looks like she might throw up. Captain Beor's hands tighten into fists.
Amondsham slides his fingers across the desk, and a glimmering hologram of Judge Magister Bergan in full armour appears.
“This is an outgoing message from the Ministry of Law to all consuls and governors of the Archadian Empire,” Bergan growls. “At approximately seven-twenty this morning, His Excellency Emperor Gramis Gana Solidor was poisoned and murdered.
“Param Gregoroth, Chairman of the Imperial Senate, has confessed in full to the murder and beset by grief and shame, taken his own life. The Senate in its entirety has been arrested under charges of treason, conspiracy and fraud, and await the investigation of the Ministry of Law.
In addition, Judge Magister Drace has been found guilty of treason, having bared steel against His Excellency Vayne Solidor with intent to cause harm. Judge Magister Gabranth has passed the sentence of death upon her, and her family has been detained until preparations for their exile might be made.
In absence of senate to aid the election of a new emperor, and with the Rozarrians yet arraying themselves for war, the Ministry of Law has imbued Vayne Solidor with the power of autocrat, as is our right. Until this crisis is resolved, His Excellency Lord Vayne shall assume control in full of the Empire.
In this time of crisis, it is necessary that His Excellency the late Emperor Gramis' family are kept safe. To this end, if Lord Larsa, currently on pilgrimage to the holy peaks of Mt. Bur-Omisace, should pass through your territories, you are permitted by the Ministry of Law to detain him until he can be retrieved and returned to Archades.
That is all.”
The message ends abruptly, the glimmering image fizzling out. Amondsham pours himself a glass of wine, mulling it about. He seems entirely unsure how to follow up the message.
“Obviously, we are in a strategically important position. This news will begin reaching the people before long, and we cannot allow our security to be compromised. Captain Maduin, see to the readiness of the Western defences. Captain Beor, I give you full discretion to attend to any uprising of insurgents that may be bolstered by this news, and to contain any panic.”
Sherral glances over at Beor. The man is a brute, and everyone – except, perhaps, Amondsham – knows it, and he looks positively delighted at the excuse to cause trouble.
---
'Trouble' of a sort comes in a captain's meeting three days later.
“The insurgents yet hide in Lowtown, and there they ferment,” Beor insists. “It is a place consumed by rebellion, and sedition is the faith of everyone who dwells there. I request permission to conduct a large-scale raid there.”
“Captain Beor exaggerates,” Major Ronick says quickly. Amondsham raises an eyebrow, pouring himself some wine. “The insurgents do indeed make their home in the tunnels of Lowtown, but it is mostly the poor and destitute, who are no threat to the Empire. The reason we have not raided those homes and businesses is because they are packed so densely that for each true insurgent we found we would do injury to a hundred innocents.”
Beor scoffs. “They do not even pay taxes to the Empire.”
“We don't charge them taxes. Emperor Gramis commanded that Lowtown be left free of taxes, as it was during the reign of King Raminas,” Sherral says sharply.
“His Excellency lies dead,” Beor replies.
“And his body is not yet cooled before you suggest disregarding his express commands,” Sherral says. He turns to Amondsham. “A raid on Lowtown will only inflame rebellious feelings. We will see the Insurgency double in number if we do this.”
Beor scoffs again. It's an incredibly annoying sound and Sherral wants to punch him. “Perhaps we should worry for the West wall. When the Rozarrians arrive you will give them tea and biscuits so as not to agitate them.”
“With all due respect, only one of us has actually served on the front lines during a war,” Sherral says. “Although I'm sure your wealth of experience guarding – what was it, the East wing of Draklor Laboratory during the war? - will be of enormous use should the insurgents be mostly research staff.”
Beor scowls. “Consul Amondsham, permission to administer Captain Maduin twenty lashes for being discourteous to a fellow officer.”
Amondsham sips his wine, mulling it over. “Not this time, Beor. Conduct your raids, but I expect to hear you acting with care and thought. The tax issue will remain for another day when our emperor's death is not so fresh.”
Beor inclines his head.
Amondsham lifts a finger before he can say anything. “Captain Maduin, you will accompany Captain Beor on these raids. Arrange for six of your men to accompany you and make provisions for the West division to be run in your absence. Mark well, while on this mission you will be under Beor's command as one of his men. I will expect reports from both of you on the outcome.”
Beor's scowl is back, but he inclines his head and salutes anyway. Sherral does the same.
---
The raids are disastrous.
Beor is the worst kind of soldier: Short sighted, violent, and in love with power. As the raids progress through Lowtown, Beor treats the citizens there as if they were prisoners of war, pushing them into kneeling in the street – and as he increasingly finds no evidence of insurgents, he becomes more anxious, and the anxiety trickles out to his troops. Before long Beor has them ransacking houses and businesses at his whim, while he yells for the Lowtown citizens to admit their treachery. Sherral knows why: As hard as Beor pushed for this, as many men and gil and time that he poured into it, if he finds nothing he will draw the ire of Major Ronick and Consul Amondsham, or worse, the Judge Magisters – and drawing the ire of the latter always means death.
His panic grows, and like an infection it is passed to the men of the City Guard. By the last quarter of Lowtown, their organisation and discipline is breaking down. It's a disgrace to the Empire, and Sherral wonders for how long before this Beor's nature has been eroding their discipline.
Sherral finds Beor and pulls him to one side. His objections are met with a stern command to remove his helmet. He does, because he is under Beor's command and duty bound to follow, and he has a moment to see Beor pull up the visor of his own helmet, and then an armoured fist across the face, then another to the same spot that brings him down to the ground, and then a third to the back of the head that leaves him seeing spots.
Beor puts a boot on the base of his neck and warns him that the next time Sherral interrupts his work, he'll be made a proper example of. He demands that Sherral confirm that he is being clear. Sherral does. The demand is made again. Sherral confirms again.
The raids continue. Sherral picks up his helmet and follows on wobbly legs. When they reach the end of Lowtown, Beor yells for another sweep.
---
It is but two days later that the next message comes through. This one isn't from the Empire. It comes filtered through refugees arriving through the Estersand on chocobos.
Gran Kiltias Anastasis is dead. The pilgrim's village upon Mount Bur-Omisace is burning. Worse still, it is the work of the Archadian Empire. A Judge Magister and his men slaughtered their way through the town and murdered the Gran Kiltias in his temple.
That night, a group of drunk Dalmascans throw glass bottles with burning rags and needles in them at the barracks and scream about them being murderers. Nobody is injured.
The next day, Amondsham declares a curfew, to be enforced by the city guard. It isn't until it's nearly evening that a message comes from the Empire: A long-winded thing explaining that Judge Magister Bergan, Judge Magister Zargabaath, and Judge Magister Gabranth approached the Kiltia at Bur-Omisace peacefully, seeking only the return of the Emperor's youngest son, Lord Larsa. Seeking to consolidate political power and in illicit alliance with Rozarrian intelligence, the message says, Anastasis had held the young lord against his will. Judge Magister Bergan was forced to intervene, and in so doing perished in battle.
It is the most obvious pack of lies Sherral has ever read.
It's enough, however. Amondsham, Ronick and Beor apparently believe it, or pretend to. The Kiltian chapels of Rabanastre are quickly shut down, and the Kiltia who tend them imprisoned.
