LINESII- Into the Darkness- Part III
- Thread starter Lord_Iggy
- Start date
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Vae Victis
"Emotions often get in the way of victory. Passion defines the victory."
-Attributed to Stratikrator Cendrian
Part One:
"Ah."
He winced again. It looked like the infection was contained, but this mixture hurt like hell. More like a branding iron, he thought, and clenched his teeth. Mostly vinegar and lemon oil, he knew, having instructed his orderly to prepare it. Damn this wound, and that useless war he had inherited.
"My lord, allow me." The servant knelt, dipping the rag into the mixture once more, before gently washing the cauterized stump that was once the upper arm of Autorex Tactius.
The Autorex showed no visible reaction, despite the pain that spiked up his arm. Pain was nothing but an impulse that distracted him, he thought, and a quiet determination not to die filled his mind. It was only a limb, and after all, he had three more. He had considered designing a false hand, but it struck him as pompous. No, he would keep the stump as a reminder. When used properly, pain and regret can focus the mind. He had plenty of that. Perhaps grain alcohol would be more effective...
The green robe of Healer Celphas swished against the carpeted floor, interrupting Tactius' thoughts as he entered the room. Pulling aside a tapestry depicting the Second Battle of Sintonia, he approached the bed of his master, bowing obsequiously.
“Great and powerful Lord Tactius,” he simpered, “Please allow me to carry out my own treatments.”
The Autorex sighed. He had no time for this whimpering idiot. “I have told you what I think of your treatments. Read my treatises, and develop something that does not involve punching a hole in me. My body is disfigured enough.”
“Autorex, there is some very promising new literature from Khemri. Their medical philosophers believe that the body is comprised of several humors, and that when the skin becomes inflamed, it is due to an excess of blood, which must be removed by lancing the area. I personally believe this is...”
“Absolute garbage,” said Tactius, softly. Peace, he thought to himself. You don’t have to behead the man; his library is excellent.
“With all due respect my liege, our finest healers have detected no trace of any tiny particles, or creatures, which you believe cause infection.”
“Leave me, Celphas. Bleed your patients all you like, but I am pale enough as it is.”
Waving a white hand, he dismissed the healer, who retreated while bowing. After he left, the Autorex slowly pushed himself out of bed, ignoring the residual pain. It was better than yesterday, and tomorrow he would be fit enough to fully examine the Citadel.
Gazing out the window of the Tower of Command, which had been restored to its old height after years of painstaking (and occasionally fatal) labor, he looked down on the city.
It was better than in his parents time, he saw, and finally beginning to resemble the White City that had been ravaged by the Swade during the War of the White Rose. Hundreds of feet below, the distant clinking of hammers mixed with shouts from the skilled workmen to the laborers. On platforms above them, small groups of blue-robed Architects were taking down measurements, then calling out orders through long speaking trumpets.
In addition to restoring the walls of the Citadel to their former height, and repairing the massive breaches caused by Bladeist siege engines and years of neglect, (or shoddy architecture,) the Stratikrator insisted on a second layer of walls behind the first, and thirty feet higher so that invaders could be repelled by Phoenix Archers and ballistae firing from above, even after they had taken the first line of defense.
The gatehouse, still surrounded by a mass of scaffolding and obscured by a cloud of dust, had been totally redesigned. Originally it featured a massive wooden gate reinforced with iron, followed by a stone archway with two murder holes, for boiling oil and other weapons dropped from above. Now, if they broke through the second gate, invaders had to pass through a darkened passageway running parallel to the walls, zigzagging back before it entered the courtyard of the Citadel. There were no less than five murder holes, and two false passages. The passageway then went from total darkness to the bright light of the courtyard, leaving the temporarily blinded invaders open to a counterattack.
Tactius, constantly suspicious of betrayal, (and some said totally neurotic and paranoid,) had rebuilt the Citadel more powerful than the last. But he remembered the reason for the first fall: Starvation. An underground aqueduct channeled water drawn from multiple sources outside of the city. Dark underground storerooms built like caverns were filled with, oil, salt, flour, vinegar, salted beef, mutton, dried fish, and honey, to feed the garrisons of the city, but also to hold out for months, or even years at a time in the event of a siege. Next to the private chapel of the Stratikrator, (or Autorex,) Pacist monks tended several large vegetable gardens. They even raised mushrooms underground.
Yes, Tactius decided, the new Redemption would hold against an enemy.
A breeze came in through the upper windows of the Tower, as blueprints and work orders fluttered slightly. The Autorex looked out further, past the expanded Citadel. The reconstruction in the city was going well. The outer city walls had been repaired in his parents’ time, but the entire Shepherds’ Quarter was still a gutted, burnt-out shell when the Autorex came to power. Workers, immigrants, and converted Sintonians had since filled the southernmost section of the city, which had been enhanced with a small lake and public gardens, which were maintained by the citizens’ council. The houses were small, but the soldiers of the Autorex had long since burned out any slums, and forcibly relocated the families to better areas. Eventually they saw reason, the Autorex almost smirked.
The Merchants’ Quarter had been the first to revive after the liberation. The old central bazaar was still there, filled with vast tents where merchants from as far as Guangfei, Gerougia, Norvalin and Ardan sold and traded their goods. Pelts, spices, and jewelry were sold in bulk or to single customers. Dozens of food carts plied their fare to hungry customers, and the smells rose into the air, covering the less…appealing odor of the livestock merchants. Further out, the large trading houses of the merchant families were built in the classical style. Inside pleasant courtyards with aviaries, fruit trees and burbling fountains, the elite sealed trade bargains and made pacts to destroy their rivals.
The Autorex blinked. He had been thinking for too long. It was time to go dedicate the Basilica.
---
OOC: Maybe the title should have been Vae Victor...
"Emotions often get in the way of victory. Passion defines the victory."
-Attributed to Stratikrator Cendrian
Part One:
"Ah."
He winced again. It looked like the infection was contained, but this mixture hurt like hell. More like a branding iron, he thought, and clenched his teeth. Mostly vinegar and lemon oil, he knew, having instructed his orderly to prepare it. Damn this wound, and that useless war he had inherited.
"My lord, allow me." The servant knelt, dipping the rag into the mixture once more, before gently washing the cauterized stump that was once the upper arm of Autorex Tactius.
The Autorex showed no visible reaction, despite the pain that spiked up his arm. Pain was nothing but an impulse that distracted him, he thought, and a quiet determination not to die filled his mind. It was only a limb, and after all, he had three more. He had considered designing a false hand, but it struck him as pompous. No, he would keep the stump as a reminder. When used properly, pain and regret can focus the mind. He had plenty of that. Perhaps grain alcohol would be more effective...
The green robe of Healer Celphas swished against the carpeted floor, interrupting Tactius' thoughts as he entered the room. Pulling aside a tapestry depicting the Second Battle of Sintonia, he approached the bed of his master, bowing obsequiously.
“Great and powerful Lord Tactius,” he simpered, “Please allow me to carry out my own treatments.”
The Autorex sighed. He had no time for this whimpering idiot. “I have told you what I think of your treatments. Read my treatises, and develop something that does not involve punching a hole in me. My body is disfigured enough.”
“Autorex, there is some very promising new literature from Khemri. Their medical philosophers believe that the body is comprised of several humors, and that when the skin becomes inflamed, it is due to an excess of blood, which must be removed by lancing the area. I personally believe this is...”
“Absolute garbage,” said Tactius, softly. Peace, he thought to himself. You don’t have to behead the man; his library is excellent.
“With all due respect my liege, our finest healers have detected no trace of any tiny particles, or creatures, which you believe cause infection.”
“Leave me, Celphas. Bleed your patients all you like, but I am pale enough as it is.”
Waving a white hand, he dismissed the healer, who retreated while bowing. After he left, the Autorex slowly pushed himself out of bed, ignoring the residual pain. It was better than yesterday, and tomorrow he would be fit enough to fully examine the Citadel.
Gazing out the window of the Tower of Command, which had been restored to its old height after years of painstaking (and occasionally fatal) labor, he looked down on the city.
It was better than in his parents time, he saw, and finally beginning to resemble the White City that had been ravaged by the Swade during the War of the White Rose. Hundreds of feet below, the distant clinking of hammers mixed with shouts from the skilled workmen to the laborers. On platforms above them, small groups of blue-robed Architects were taking down measurements, then calling out orders through long speaking trumpets.
In addition to restoring the walls of the Citadel to their former height, and repairing the massive breaches caused by Bladeist siege engines and years of neglect, (or shoddy architecture,) the Stratikrator insisted on a second layer of walls behind the first, and thirty feet higher so that invaders could be repelled by Phoenix Archers and ballistae firing from above, even after they had taken the first line of defense.
The gatehouse, still surrounded by a mass of scaffolding and obscured by a cloud of dust, had been totally redesigned. Originally it featured a massive wooden gate reinforced with iron, followed by a stone archway with two murder holes, for boiling oil and other weapons dropped from above. Now, if they broke through the second gate, invaders had to pass through a darkened passageway running parallel to the walls, zigzagging back before it entered the courtyard of the Citadel. There were no less than five murder holes, and two false passages. The passageway then went from total darkness to the bright light of the courtyard, leaving the temporarily blinded invaders open to a counterattack.
Tactius, constantly suspicious of betrayal, (and some said totally neurotic and paranoid,) had rebuilt the Citadel more powerful than the last. But he remembered the reason for the first fall: Starvation. An underground aqueduct channeled water drawn from multiple sources outside of the city. Dark underground storerooms built like caverns were filled with, oil, salt, flour, vinegar, salted beef, mutton, dried fish, and honey, to feed the garrisons of the city, but also to hold out for months, or even years at a time in the event of a siege. Next to the private chapel of the Stratikrator, (or Autorex,) Pacist monks tended several large vegetable gardens. They even raised mushrooms underground.
Yes, Tactius decided, the new Redemption would hold against an enemy.
A breeze came in through the upper windows of the Tower, as blueprints and work orders fluttered slightly. The Autorex looked out further, past the expanded Citadel. The reconstruction in the city was going well. The outer city walls had been repaired in his parents’ time, but the entire Shepherds’ Quarter was still a gutted, burnt-out shell when the Autorex came to power. Workers, immigrants, and converted Sintonians had since filled the southernmost section of the city, which had been enhanced with a small lake and public gardens, which were maintained by the citizens’ council. The houses were small, but the soldiers of the Autorex had long since burned out any slums, and forcibly relocated the families to better areas. Eventually they saw reason, the Autorex almost smirked.
The Merchants’ Quarter had been the first to revive after the liberation. The old central bazaar was still there, filled with vast tents where merchants from as far as Guangfei, Gerougia, Norvalin and Ardan sold and traded their goods. Pelts, spices, and jewelry were sold in bulk or to single customers. Dozens of food carts plied their fare to hungry customers, and the smells rose into the air, covering the less…appealing odor of the livestock merchants. Further out, the large trading houses of the merchant families were built in the classical style. Inside pleasant courtyards with aviaries, fruit trees and burbling fountains, the elite sealed trade bargains and made pacts to destroy their rivals.
The Autorex blinked. He had been thinking for too long. It was time to go dedicate the Basilica.
---
OOC: Maybe the title should have been Vae Victor...
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: I am *shows fingers* this close to invading Veritas and utterly destroying Redemption. I am utterly tired of reading how well defended and invincible Redemption is 
Always with the classical, what about NEW building designs?
I hope an earthquake of 7.0 magnitude hits it and sink it into the ocean
Always with the classical, what about NEW building designs?I hope an earthquake of 7.0 magnitude hits it and sink it into the ocean
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
OOC: I am *shows fingers* this close to invading Veritas and utterly destroying Redemption. I am utterly tired of reading how well defended and invincible Redemption is
I hope an earthquake of 7.0 magnitude hits it and sink it into the ocean
Well, the fortifications of the Citadel, redesigned by the Autorex, are a lot closer to Medieval designs, and it looks more like OTL northern European, or Krak des Chevaliers-esque.
But bigger.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Well, Veritas got pretty badly hit by the first "random natural disaster," so hopefully I'll escape the next one.
Ooh. Did I get that "Large Oriental Dragon levels Jara" I asked for?
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: What is this about Large Oriental Dragon... It is an offense against Guangfei if any other country has a dragon as her symbol
As well as pandas
As well as pandas
Oruc
Reactionary
OOC: What is this about Large Oriental Dragon... It is an offense against Guangfei if any other country has a dragon as her symbol
As well as pandas
What about a Western Dragon, instead of the asian kind? I've been meaning to use a White Dragon as my flag.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: Of course, considering the egoistical and arrogant nature of most Emperors, they would be more than willing to launch a massive invasion fleet to attack Syracia
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Hey! The Proplr likeing dragons are chinease! Or Chincukian! I'm back
! and today's my birthday!
! and today's my birthday!
Silver Steak
The Ghost of SS
Does that mean you're eleven now?
Yes, and I put you near Chincuk. Either that, or you'd be a new tribe rising out of the Cultesian jungles, which would be quite difficult.
EDIT: Anyway, I have no plans for writing further stories for other NESes, I've fully settled down back at home, my dental appointment is finished, and I've sated my desire to play various computer games... updating proper begins now.
EDIT: Anyway, I have no plans for writing further stories for other NESes, I've fully settled down back at home, my dental appointment is finished, and I've sated my desire to play various computer games... updating proper begins now.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
I am Chincuk!
