The Coup:
Turn 16: An Opportunity
Part One: A Heated Session in Senate Chambers
Most of the senators were only too eager to get through the mostly boring and uninteresting issues brought before the senate that morning. All were impatient to tackle the major issue troubling their constituents and the senate itself: the Calabim embargo.
Finally, after several minor issues had been dealt with, first speaker Rodrick Bellisam cleared his throat and bellowed, “That concludes the issue of the Lutsel’ke land amendments. Let us turn our attention to the issue of the Calabim embargo.” He would have continued except that the previously near-silent marble hall was suddenly filled with raucous voices and arguments all struggling to be heard amongst the rest.
This continued for some time as the first speaker allowed his fellow senators to discuss the issue before finally demanding silence, “The floor recognizes senator Karem Gurek, former minister of trade and current representative of the Nimarail merchant’s guild”
With an encouraging nod from his friend and the current minister of lands, Yilderum Camil, the slimly built senator dressed in a finely embroidered Grigori silk
sheesh stepped to the podium. “Fellow senators, colleges, friends, the issue of the Calabim embargo is a complex one and certainly of grave concern and seriousness for those present today.” Heads nodded throughout the audience. The merchant and former trade minister was well liked and his words were heard with respect by most. Many held that it was his propositions and ideas that dragged the Amurites from the wretched poverty of the civil war to the relatively prosperous nation it was today and his words held weight not just amongst his fellow merchants but throughout the noble houses and among the academics. The guilds often followed his lead and there were even a sizeable minority amongst the farmers and craftsmen who considered his voice to be that of wisdom and prosperity. Clearing his throat, he pronounced, “The embargo is unpopular amongst our foreign allies, has cost us technology and gold to establish and doesn’t seem to be producing the results we had hoped for.” Amongst the merchants and even amongst some of the Farmer’s party there were nods and muted agreement. “I propose that we end the embargo now and recuperate what financial gains there are to be won before this project drains our treasuries.”
The next to speak was Heymon Greytooth, a Khazad dwarf representing the jewellers and jewellery merchants. The Khazad, though a small population amongst the Amurites, held more than their share of seats on the senate by virtue of their wealth and mercantile ingenuity. His voice was sure and calm, “Not all merchants would agree with you fellow senator. Despite your years of experience, we dwarves have been trading and hoarding wealth for longer then you can remember and we know that trade and economics are not only about generation of trade, but about competition and struggle for wealth and resources. While the embargo has hardly affected us, indeed with our new trading fleets, trade is better then ever, the embargo is strangling our competition and securing routes and resources for our own merchants. This is one senator who will vote to maintain the embargo.” The dwarf sat down to much less muted agreement and more emphatic nods, most of them coming from the Sunrise League, the Mithril Order and the Religious senators.
Again, Rodrick Bellisam took the podium, “Our next speaker is Hüdaverdi Uzunçarsili, senator and grand patriarch of the Order of Junil.” A hush fell over the senators as the highly respected and often feared old man took the podium.
“Fellow senators,” he began, in a characteristic rasping voice acquired, it was said, in the civil war from demonic poison gas, “We know that you are worried about representation and the role of man and vampire in government…”
“Here! Here!” many of the senators and especially the supporter of Yilderum Camil were heard to say.
Senator Uzunçarsili continued, “and we know you are worried about your pocket books and piles of gold, but few of you are speaking today of something greater. I would like to remind you of the place of the immortal soul in all this. You’ve heard my arguments before: a vampire steals the soul of its victim. That soul never reaches Junil, regardless of how devout the victim was. The souls of the followers of other gods never see their gods’ heavens either. And do you think that a subservient soul of Aeron who is consumed goes to Aeron’s vault to live in paradise? Think again!!! This is the god of violence and pain, rage and base desires. Their subservience in life continues in the afterlife. The soul is doomed to suffer for all eternity. You know how the order-abiding senators will vote. The embargo continues. Nay, it tightens! This is our voice, our vote!”
Patriarch Hüdaverdi Uzunçarsili had not relinquished the podium when another priestly senator, Soner Çölasan, a younger priest only recently appointed to represent the Nimarail abbey jumped up, intensity and determination animating his angry frame and flashing in his dark eyes. “Vote?” he shouted. “Why should we vote? We let these heathens and unbelievers decide for us?” he pointed at the ranks of senators in a sweeping gesture that lingered just a little longer on the Radical academics. “These blasphemers? Our principles and our code are diluted and tarnished at every turn. It took a Khazad scholar to remind us,
"What is your greatest calling?"
"Obediance. Unquestioning obediance".
From chapter 2 of Reflections on the State Cults, by Elder Methyl of the Luonnatar (and FfHpedia)
Crusaders are fanatics who follow orders without questions, not democratic Greeks who elect their leaders and dispute their orders.
“Can you not hear the truth of his words? If a Khazad scholar can determine the truth of Junil’s code, what has blinded you old fools? We must obey. To quibble and make concessions to these agnostics and worse is unacceptable. Would we be like the catamite Grigori who pleasure their pederast vampire lords?” His words were spoken with passion and anger. His face was red (where it could be seen through his
sheesh) and he gesticulated wildly. With every word he took a step towards the podium and his master, the patriarch of the Order of Junil, the senator Hüdaverdi Uzunçarsili. With every word he pointed at his master, a sharp stabbing motion who’s sheer intensity caused the older and highly respected man to take a half step back at the unexpected ferocity of the younger priest’s faith and passion.
The moment hung in the air like a poisoned blade in mid-throw. The image bore into the eyes and minds of all the senators present. Never, absolutely never, had a priest of Junil questioned a higher ranking priest. Certainly none had ever questioned the patriarch and certainly none had ever questioned his authority so openly, before so many influential men and women. It was a moment that hung in the senators’ consciousness forever and words that changed the winds of Amurite history.
The patriarch was quick to recover however, and yelled as best as he could in his ruined voice, “Guards! Seize this man and place him under arrest.” With calm and deliberation he spoke directly to the renegade Soner Çölasan. “You will be crucified for this.” These were not figurative threats.
Despite the death sentence, the younger priest was not so easily silenced, “Then I will be martyr for the true believers. Repent for your sacrilege, for having sold the soul of Junil’s code to uphold your precious ‘representation’ and play the puppet to these heathens. I would rather serve a Balseraph jester or even a demon-summoning Caswellan if only they pledged their soul to Junil.” He spoke the last words with dignity and force, speaking clearly from some place deep and clear, and, taking a final giant stride towards the patriarch of the Amurite church of Junil, spoke a simple quiet prayer. Those who were nearby heard his whispered plea, “Great Junil, the law-giver, bless me this day and give me the strength to guide our people to you. Give me the strength to tear down the corruption in your church and set us on the right path. I pledge to you my life and my soul,” with that a white glow formed in his hand and quickly coalesced into a short, wide-bladed sword, glinting with internal light and leaving a trail of sparkling white embers as it formed.
For a moment Patriarch Uzunçarsili was afraid. That Junil should answer this fanatic madman’s prayer scared him and he looked to the guards for help. They were too stunned by the symbolic confrontation to act and too far away to reach him in time. The old priest would have to confront this renegade himself. Hüdaverdi spoke a prayer of his own, “Junil protect me this day and shield me from the blade of this traitorous deserter who dares to defy the Order and the hierocracy.” Unlike Soner Çölasan, his prayer was loud and for all to hear and like the younger priest, his prayer too was answer. A shimmering field of silver formed before the patriarch and coalesced into a shinning steel shield.
Soner Çölasan was undaunted. With a final stride he raised his blade and silently stabbed the older man. The shield of faith exploded before Soner’s stabbing blade and Junil’s anger sunk deeply into the center of the patriarch’s chest. As the patriarch fell, it was as if the god of law himself had spoken to all assembled directly. Junil's people would never been the same.