HOUSE BLACK (CONTINUED) "You’re a filthy traitor, Lamperouge! All of that time in servitude of the Emperor…a farce!" he shouted at the iron bars. Christopher Black had been captured, labelled the Regalian nationalist that he was, and thrown into Greygate prison indefinitely by Duke Lamperouge for treason against the Sultanate. He sighed, taking steps slowly back from the door that held him, and returned to one of the side benches to sit, legs thrust out, arms folded and his face in a scowl. He lifted an arm to rub the bruised lump on his head left by the sword that the Qadir guard had hit him with earlier to knock him out cold. He winced. It hurt. His mind then turned to his family and loved ones. He reached into his pocket and felt a metal object. At least he still had his harmonica.
The mini altar shook, its golden curios, Unionist instruments of faith, and gilded candle plates rattling in turn. It was there that Georgiana knelt, the sun of dawn peeking over the horizon at the impending doom. Garbed in austere black, Georgiana remained there, her entire body numb. Garbed in the flowing black wool and linen of her austere mourning garb, Georgiana looked like a shattered bit of onyx collapsed before a messy shrine. She shut her eyes, her palms glued together with sweat and determination as her lips parted, going on to recite a warm memory, the holy prayer: Another explosion. The manor trembled, a small childish yelp echoing down the hall. Georgiana shook her head, her veil slipping over her face. She gently rocked back and forth, a silent sob racking her as her lips parted yet again, She must have missed the other explosions, too lost in trying to find the next line. A chorus of claps of boot-to-pavement rang throughout the thin roads and alleys of the city. The enemy marched, she knew. There were voices -- distantly familiar ones just behind her. She dared not look away, not now. Suddenly, she was being pulled forward, as if someone tugged her along by her collar. The altar before her blurred -- were they tears, or just exhaustion? Her forehead met the edge of the altar, and suddenly it was black. --- = - {*} - = --- The Qadir had taken the capital, and what hope Georgiana had for its survival was slim to none. She dared not let anyone know of her doubts, of course. If she was meant to die, she'd die a martyr. Emperor be damned, she'd be remembered as what she had always wanted to be: perfection; a pious paragon and the embodiment of motherly virtue. It has been a day and night since the Qadir had taken the city, and Georgiana had sent the letter detailing the curt refusal of the terms set before them by the Qadir. It was then that Georgiana had collected her grandson, leisurely strolling through the haughtily garbed Regalia of red, black, and sun. What was once powerful purple was now a brutal red coupled with an uncaring, cruel black. These were the last sights of the city she genuinely loved and based pride in, as if she raised the thing herself. Her grandson accompanied quite close to her, glancing around nervously at those he was raised and taught to hate. The infidel. The inferior. They who'd never conquer good. They turned themselves in at Greygate, Georgiana and the young Francesco only, both garbed in deep, mournful black. Piero's whereabouts and intentions are unknown. Pellegrino has submitted to the Qadir.
Graeton was preparing to make his own departure at the regalian docks when the first cannonfire was heard. Obviously he knew what was coming for them, so he had no choice but to abandon whatever he was still doing and order his crew to return to the tavern or their homes. Graeton himself chose to go to his old office that overlooked a large part of the ocean, grabbing a bottle of extremely bitter wine and seating himself on a chair right in front of his window. The taste would have expressed the brute fashion of the Qadir that was occurring in the docks, although it did not seem to affect Graeton. “It cannot be helped.”, he said to himself. He knew that without the proper defences the Qadir Sultanate merely needed to put effort into the capture of the city. Graeton was lucky he was not in the battlefield itself during the many counter-defences against the brown skins, although he felt quite dishonored of the fact. It was only a matter of time before someone would tell of him but he knew he was going to remain out of sight for quite some time.
-pushes the Qadir guard from his shoulder onto the ground before preening his curly chinbeard and muttering insults to that other guard Aladdin-
Joseph Marini would also be aboard this ship, drinking a strange mixture Fong had made. It tasted like strawberries. Or was it a banana? Who knew? Talk of invasion would eventually come to Joseph, and he would frown, wondering how this could have possibly happened. It was a shame, Regalia couldn’t possibly fall like this. He wondered about his friends, and if they were safe, or if the escaped in time. He looked off in to the water, his head full of worry. What if they had died? His stomach felt like it was twisting in to knots, and he couldn’t bear to think of the disaster. Scenarios flooded through his head, visions of friends dying. He knew those sick Qadirs would pay for their actions once he got back. Then he realized he couldn’t do that. Then he took another sip of the drink. He couldn’t worry now, he had to drift, and just hope for the best. Deep down, he knew the Qadirs would be stopped eventually. He sipped more of his drink. It definitely tasted like bananas.
Peter sat up in the bed in the clinic, sighing softly. Ever since the Qadir had come to the city life had gone astray. He signed, shrugging his shoulders. He would have to get used to a new way of life, and new rules, both written and unwritten. He didn't like it, but he couldn't stop it.
:IC "Hmpf" is all that Alistair exclaims on the matter, returning to silently brooding many of his own theories and plots as to how the world will begin changing. A small thought rings through Alistair's in the din of all his thoughts- It's a wonderful thing, not living in Regalia. -Although maybe even living in an out-of-the-way, quiet town wouldn't be something that could be preserved any longer.: OOC Lovely, let's all bow to sun and hunt dragons.
My God... I can only imagine what the Regalian Emperor did to piss the Qadir off this time... I'd imagine it to be something along the lines of, "The Qadir can go fuck themselves, the Naga can go fuck themselves, the Elves are mostly /OK/, but still, they can mostly go fuck thesmselves! I haven't even met the Orcs yet and they can go fuck themselves too! Rrrrghhh!"
Actually, the Qadir have a natural dislike for the Regalian Empire for multiple reasons and the feeling is mutual due to the Qadir pirating disrupting trade for Regalia. The Naylar were seen as a threat to Regalian superiority and were destroyed because of that and the Empire actually formed a pact with the Orcs that resulted in the Nelfin Subjugation War.
Boom, boom, boom, went the cannons on that fateful day the Qadir sacked Regalia. In unison, scribble scribble scribble went the pen of Gustavo Anahera, honorable Grand Duke... Well, not for long, he hoped. "To they who are guided by the ever judging sun, Pashawa Esfihani Kinya Bireh, It is a good day for the Sultanate indeed! I, Gustavo Javier Anahera, Grand Duke of the Realm, gleefully pledge my humble support to you, my gracious Pashawa, and to your husband, the Pashah. You are an honorable folk and I find your cause to be much more just than the corrupt and complacent Kade Dynasty. To ease the stress you are obviously burdened with, I shall eagerly resume my job as the Violet Commander, upholding the new, more fair, laws you have presented to the Regalian People. Furthermore, the Anahera Family will welcome the additional burden of the following landed titles to help you run, if you would allow us such: The Lordship of Girobalda The Duchy of Girobalda The County of Girobalda The County of Amilcare The Duchy of Forriesta Natal The County of Salazo The County of Forriesta Natal The Lordship of Pays du Sud The Duchy of Vancoulais The County of Vancoulais The County of Callarais The Duchy of Turennes The County of Calar The County of Cote Sud The Duchy of Pays des Bijoux The County of Calabers The County of Pays Bijoux In addition to this, I would be pleased to arrange a marriage between our two families. Hopefully this will express how serious I am taking what could be a great and prosperous future for this land. May the Sun judge your decisions on these requests to be wise and generous, Gustavo Javier Anahera, the current Grand Duke of Girobalda and all titles underneath." Attached is even a small map detailing where one might find such lands. (@MonMarty @Babamanga @Jadee @Squeakachu @MrChadington @Kammyboo)
Perhaps make a forum with your plans? People can then sign-up to help in the Rebellion? Though it would have to be very secretive.
