Because the Evil sides are more fun. And there's just something so satisfying about playing as the Erebians, razing a size 20 city and then sacrificing every single worker you get out of it in a single turn. Which would pretty much be the equivalent of ritually sacrificing something like the entire population of New York City over the course of a single week. Nothing can top that.
And it's not a Satan Rules scenario. Erebia's the only Satanic civilization. Omegia's a generic dictatorship, and Pwnzoria's..... Well, Pwnzoria's Pwnzoria. Nothing really compares to it.
Anyways.
Part II
Alliances
December 24, 2012
Pwnzorian Palace, Pwnzopolis, Grand Duchy of Pwnzoria
The black Omegian helicopter was just landing as Commander Lechaim Pwnstein reached the helipad. Grand Duke Alek, wearing his full regal uniform complete with the Crown of Epic and the Cloak of Uberness, was already waiting for him at the top. The edges of the helipad was crowded with reporters, all insulting each other loudly AND IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS as they fought for the best spot to take a picture, in the finest tradition of Pwnzoria. Pwnstein was able to get in position next to Alek just as the blades of the helicopter stopped spinning, and its passengers exited. Sean leaped from the helicopter, followed less energetically by General Peter. Sean and Alek shook hands as they met, with flashes from a dozen cameras as reporters uploaded the pictures to their accounts, so they could add captions later.
"lol hai w3lcum 2 Pwnzoria s34n!!11" Alek jovially said. Pwnstein could see Sean's mind desperately trying to translate what he had just heard behind the grin he was wearing for the cameras. The ability to pronounce numbers as letters was a distinctly Pwnzorian skill, which few outside were able to master, or even understand.
"Um.... Oh, yes, hello Alek!" Sean quickly said once he figured out what Alek had just said.
Alek glanced at the crowd of reports. "u w4nt 2 4dm1n b4n t3h n00bs?" He said, quietly enough that the reporters couldn't hear him.
Sean just smiled and nodded. Pwnstein noticed that this was the usual response foreigners had when conversing with Pwnzorians.
The two leaders, followed by Peter and Pwnstein, descended into the palace. Alek guided them to an isolated room with a round table in the middle. After they had been seated, Alek removed the official uniform. Underneath he wore a simple suit. "So," he said, switching to flawless English, "What do I owe the pleasure of this visit."
Sean leaned back in his chair. "We're invading Schripia and Arigos."
Pwnstein's jaw dropped. "You're WHAT?"
"Sean.... That is, the Emperor, believes that, due to the confusion caused by the recent meteorite strike destroying Gaia Island, we have the perfect opportunity to attack while they are still struggling to rebuild." Peter placed a map on the table. "Our forces should be able to capture Schripia quickly. With them gone, the Arigos League won't be able to hold off your navy on their own. They will fall soon afterward. The war should hopefully be over before the Righteous Coalition or Chrio has a chance to begin to seriously mobilize. And even if they do, we can almost certainly rely on Erebia to hold them off."
Alek stroked his chin. "What does Pwnzoria have to gain out of this war?"
Sean spread his hands. "Complete control of the Gulf of Erebia. All Omegia wants is the Schripian lands, which are rightfully ours anyways. The rest of the islands are yours."
Alek narrowed his eyes. "Generosity is not a trait you are well known for, Sean. What else is it you want?"
Sean shrugged. "Just control over the area where Gaia Island used to be...."
Alek grinned in understanding. "Ah, you want the meteorite is it? Yes, they are a fascinating thing...." He reached into a suit pocket and pulled out a glowing stone. "Truly fascinating...."
Sean and Peter sat bolt upright when they saw the stone. "So, you have one too?" Sean cautiously asked.
Alek laughed. "Everyone has one. So many tiny shards fell all over the place, that even if we quarantined all the major deposits, there would still be enough lying around for half of the population of Pwnzopolis to have at least a small shard."
Sean relaxed slightly. Pwnstein noticed that his eyes hungrily followed the stone as Alek put it back into his pocket. Why would he be so obsessed with the rocks? Pwnstein had one that he was using as a paperweight. Other than their tendency to glow brighter when touched, they seemed utterly unremarkable, and useless as anything other than a conversation piece..
Pwnstein studied the map that Peter had presented harder. "Are you certain that you will be able to remove Schripia from the war quickly?"
Sean laughed. "We're Omegia. They'll be gone within a week."
Peter, however, offered a more somber view. "If Smithy is able to mobilize a large enough force, then no, we will not be able to defeat them quickly. Even so, neither Schripia or Arigos can last long in a war of attrition against us. They lack our production capacity. While that route would be more costly, there is little they could do to stop us in the end. The only plausible scenarios that end in our defeat would be a successful Chrian invasion, which I am sure your navy will ensure does not happen, or the Righteous Coalition defeating Erebia, and I doubt they would be willing to suffer the casualties necessary to do that."
Alek nodded slowly. "There appears to be little for us to lose, in exchange for quiet a substantial gain. Though I must ask, Commander Pwnstein, what is your opinion on this?"
Pwnstein slowly looked over the map, trying to impossibly predict what the future was for his country. Finally, he responded, "While I am loath to drag our glorious nation into a war as potentially destructive as this, I must bow to your decision on this matter. I will mobilize our colonial infantry to prepare for war as soon as possible. The Funkonauts can replace them as defenders of our cities, and...."
"We'll just leave you two to go and discuss these military matters. I have another appointment I must attend to." Sean said, as he and Peter stood up from their chairs.
Alek formally bid them farewell with, "k thx bai", before turning his attention back to Pwnstein's discussions of the logistics of mobilizing the largely civilian population in preparation for this war.
December 25, 2012
Temple of the Burning Eye, Nagrythe, Erebia
(Special Thanks to Daniel for the first part of this entry)
Daniel, the Dark Lord of Erebia, stared down at his night’s entertainment with much interest. Six figures stood before him at his palace floor, a marvelous building forged from Bloodstone. Each was pale and emaciated beyond all reckoning. Forced starvation for 2 weeks does that to a person. All six had just been summoned from the slave pits to be Daniel’s dinner show, but he had stopped eating entirely to focus on the event, which had thus far managed to become one of the most memorable in his long history as Lord of Erebia.
Each of the six had been promised a meal, a real meal worthy of Daniel himself should he be one of the three survivors of a battle against all six. These battles of desperation degraded quickly into barbaric animalism which suited Daniel’s own base and far less cultured tastes, but on occasion something would happen which would appeal to his inner psychologist. Often times, for example, he found that someone who was sufficiently starved would resort to cannibalism, which is why he was constantly forced to remove the suicides from his starvation pits. Sometimes this realization would hit a fighter in the middle of his combat for a meal, and he would maddeningly bite, gnaw, and devour his opponent alive. The truly interesting matches occurred when all the combatants discovered this tactic, and an orgy of cannibalism would ensue. But even those rare moments of pure, refined pleasure did not compare to the events which were folding out before Daniel; Indeed, he had never seen the process “Democratized” before.
“Look, if we just vote to eat each other off one by one and share the meal, at least some of us will end the pain of starvation for a little while, even if we die!” announced one who Daniel was positive had once been a farmer. “See, we just gotta pick the runt of the litter!” he announced.
“Don’t be stupid, let’s pick the meatiest! More food for more people, and we can overpower him!” said another.
“Don’t be ridiculous” said the one who was without a doubt the biggest of the six. “You’ll waste all the energy fighting the biggest one that you’ll get from eating him! I should know, I used to be a doctor! Let’s just vote on someone and be done with it!”
The doctor made Daniel smile. Perhaps it was the fact that in the heat of barbarism these men were using society’s laws and rules to help rationalize the acts they were about to indulge in (though not HIS laws of course). Perhaps it was that a doctor had just condoned cannibalism.
They all sat down, and the doctor brought up each of the six combatants up to vote. In the end, the farmer was chosen.
“No! NO I WANT A RECOUNT!! I WANT A RECOUNT GOD DAMN YOU!” he yelled.
“Please, please you have to make the sacrifice! You were never going to make it anyways, please we can make this quick,” pleaded one of the others.
“No, no, no no no no nonononono...” pleaded the farmer, but to no avail. The crowd of five gradually turned towards him before the Doctor finally leaped on him and began to beat his head in with his fists. The other five jumped on quickly, ignoring all pretense of civilized behavior and tearing apart bits of flesh to stuff themselves eagerly. Daniel sat quietly and wondered if they would renew their democratic processes once the full horror of their actions were made clear.
Sure enough, they did. They sat in horror and shock, but after an hour or so of deliberation and tears, the group reorganized and held yet another vote. By now, Daniel had forgotten his meal of warm veil and fresh fruit, his focus entirely held by this rare group. It was as the second vote was tallied that Daniel realized all of these fellows had been captured from another nation. They were all citizens of Iustitia.
Eventually they widdled themselves down to three, as per the set condition of Daniel’s game. They each turned up towards the throne, waiting for their prize.
Daniel rose from the throne.
“Excellent, children. You have all pleased me with your show. I must admit that in all my years of Lordship, I have never seen such barbarous habits like democracy mixed in with the art of life and death. But I’m afraid that your time in captivity has led you to lose some of your common sense,” Daniel exclaimed slowly. His beautiful purple silk robes bellowed out behind him, but straps across the front kept his entire figure and frame, even his face, completely concealed save his glowing red eyes.
The three survivors glared up at him, uncertain of what was going to happen.
“You see, the conditions I had set forth were COMBAT. Yet I saw no such combat, merely...a game. A joke. In fact, I despise the very depths to which you sank. Yet it is not to say I am....completely disappointed,” Daniel continued. “No, I was quite pleased. Your people would be proud, I am sure, to know that even in the face of total Darkness, even in the face of death, you could put their ponderous political processes to good use. Well, good is a relative term I suppose...” Daniel trailed off.
“Nevertheless, I have decided that in these particular conditions it would not be fair of me to give you a meal when you so unabashedly ignored my conditions. Especially not to the others who came before you, the exalted members of my own personal guard who all underwent these ordeals to become worthy. Your people pride themselves on equality, why should I allow you to gain a meal with scarcely a single scar on you when others fought tooth-and-claw, quite literally, to eat? No, it simply is not fair. Not fair at all.” They could not see his face, but Daniel was smiling.
“So now, it is time for combat. There shall be no survivors.”
The Doctor began to laugh.
“What do you think, that you can make us all kill each other? Hahahaha!!! Who cares anymore! You have no reason to make us fight! You want us to die, you’ll have to kill us yourself!”
“But my dear politico, that is what I had in mind this entire time,” Daniel smiled, and began to cruelly laugh. He reached one hand out of his cloak, a gauntlet-clad hand tied to metal armor. He undid the cloak which fell ceremoniously to the ground. The 6 foot tall muscular giant, clad in jet-black armor adorned with spikes and various occult sigils, stood before them crowned in a golden crown. The helmet appeared to be shaped like that of a goat, with a pentagram between the two ram’s horns that curled up towards the top of his head. His red eyes were still glowing with intense hatred, yet a sickening glow of joy.
Daniel ran forward with intense speed and smashed his fist into the face of the doctor. The starvation had greatly weakened him, and he had lost much bone matter from the lack of calcium. He could hear the crack of bone as his metal fist connected with his prey’s jaw. Before the doctor could collapse to the ground from the force of the blow, Daniel’s hand flew out and seized the doctor by the throat, lifting him into the air. He stared into the bewildered eyes. It had lost all hope. All at once dazed, confused, and in anguish and pain it could scarcely comprehend, it was torn between the will to live and to simply die. His only means of escape had been so close, yet crudely tossed away. There was nothing more in his eyes, no defiance or hatred or scorn, just pure loss.
Daniel vaguely remembered stories of ancient Black Magickians whom Satan had granted the power to steal souls, an art which was lost to eternity. Daniel firmly believed that he had discovered that power again when he saw how utterly defeated the doctor was.
He let go of the defeated doctor, whose body simply fell to the floor.
Daniel smiled as he continued to wipe the blood from his iron gauntlet. Around him were five other members of the Temple of the Burning Eye, all dressed in their Clandestine uniforms. They stared at him from behind their ornate masks in perfect, eerie silence. The bodies had been stripped to the bone by the barbaric cannibalistic practices of the Temple. All five members had eaten well.
An armored guard of the Erebian capital entered through the enormous double doors of the citadel.
“My Lord, Emperor Sean of Omegia has requested another audience. He would not say his purpose, but our spies report the mobilization of Omegian and Pwnzorian armies. No doubt he is planning another war against the Righteous Coalition.”
Daniel rose up from his throne.
“Emperor Sean...” he trailed off thoughtfully.
“Yes, yes we shall have an audience with our dear friend. Have the puppet bring him to our palace.”
”Of course my Lord” the guard answered. He bowed respectfully before his Lord and left.
“Well, what of these tidings of war” one of the priests asked.
“What does the Burning Eye say of this? This meteor,” Daniel asked.
“It is of use to us. It matters little who controls it, so long as it is put to a negative use. The disruption of power alone...it will give rise to a new, glorious Aeon. Even if we control but a fraction, it shall be enough to open the Gates,” the priest said.
“It does not answer the concern of the coming struggle. The Styx and the Acheron are not pleased. While the lives of the citizens are not concerning to us, we cannot allow for our enemies to destroy what we have created here.”
“Inform the Temple Masters that they need not worry. The matter will be dealt with.” Daniel said. “This war is far to important for any factors to be ignored. Assure them that no details have escaped me, and all goes according to plan.”
”Very well, Daniel. We shall meet again soon.”
The priests turned one by one and exited the room. Daniel turned to face the enormous mural of a burning Eye above an Aztec pyramid gazing out towards a world lit ablaze.
“Our time has come. All we have built, all we have created...for this.”
General Peter gazed idly out the window as the city of Nagrythe sped by. From the sky, the city seemed to be constructed entirely of black metal, rising upwards in gigantic towers. From the ground, you could see that most of the buildings in the city were crude wooden huts quickly fashioned together to offer some protection from the elements. Blank, hungry faces watched the car as it drove down the road. The first time he had visited Erebia, Peter had been horrified to see the citizens. Their faces held no trace of any hope, or belief that tomorrow would be better. Years of living under these conditions had destroyed any room for hope.
The car they were in was the only one on the road. The citizens couldn't afford cars, the military walked everywhere, and the Temple of the Burning Eye.... Well, they didn't drive. The only people who had cars were members of the puppet government that the Temple held as a front to conceal their true activities. This particular car belonged to the man who was supposedly Erebia's head of state. Peter hadn't bothered learning his name. Erebian heads of state never lasted long enough for it to matter.
The nervous man kept trying to start a conversation with Peter and Sean. Both ignored him. As far as they were concerned, the man was just an intermediary they needed to use to get to the real leadership.
"I apologize for the number of people in the streets. You see, it's all because of the Christmas celebration." The man said.
That grabbed Peter and Sean's attention. "You.... Celebrate the birth of Christ here?" Sean cautiously asked.
"Well, of course!" The man responded, voice full of surprise. "After all, we did succeed in killing him in the end!"
Sean and Peter could only stare at the man. "But..... But didn't he....." Sean began.
"Yes?"
"Nevermind."
The two resumed their previous activity of looking out the window.
After a few more failed attempts at starting a new conversation, the man gave up speaking and began to glance around nervously. It seemed to be a habit many members of the puppet government gained. Eventually, after weaving through a labyrinth of twisting alleyways and seemingly illogical streets, they reached the Erebian Palace.
Peter had once thought the Omegian palace to be the epitome of dramatic architecture. After he saw the Erebian Palace, rising above the multi-stepped pyramids and obsidian towers, he realized just how wrong he was. And these people did it without even trying, he silently though to himself.
A Clandestine was waiting for them at the gate. As he escorted Peter and Sean inside, the puppet leader quickly drove away. Peter smiled at the man's panic, though he understood it. Working in Erebian territory always made him nervous. He still remembered the days when the Clandestine considered him a viable target. And the watching gazes of the citizens were the distilled essence of creepyness. The head of state had assured them that the rumors of cannibalism were just rumors. Then again, the man had also said that Erebia was a freedom loving, peaceful society.
Sean seemed perfectly at ease in the surroundings, even as they passed through a room where impaled animal (and human) sacrifices lined the walls. He always wore the inverted crucifix when visiting Erebian territory, Peter noticed. Whether this was as a sign of solidarity, or something out of the Emperor's strange sense of humor, Peter couldn't tell. It may have even been both.
The Clandestine brought them into the throne room, then silently left. Daniel sat atop his black, spiked throne, dressed in flowing purple robes. Two glowing red eyes gazed at the pair.
"So," Daniel spoke, in a voice that Peter swore no human should have been able to make, "You plan to go to war with the Coalition."
Sean smiled, and shook his head. "Nope. We plan for YOU to go to war with the Coalition, whilst we invade the southern islands."
Daniel stared at Sean for some time. Then he hissed, "Why should we help you?"
Peter tried to focus his attention somewhere other than the glowing red eyes. However, the decor of the room wasn't much to inspire confidence in him either. He noticed six skeletons lying at the foot of the throne. He didn't remember them the last time he was here.
Sean was grinning again. "You know, I actually never considered the idea that you'd refuse."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Did you not?"
"No, really. I've seen those forts you've constructed. And I know the fervor which the Iustitians fight. They'll be charging at those things without a second thought. Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions will be slaughtered. It will be Erebia's greatest slaughter ever."
Daniel and Sean stared at each other silently for some time. It seemed to Parker as though some kind of conversation was going on which he was not privy too.
"You expect me to commit to war just because there is a possibility that we will kill a few thousand?" Daniel asked, but there was hesitation in his voice.
"Yes, that would be the gist of it. And then there's the matter of Chrio...."
Daniel focused onto Sean. His attention had been sufficiently grabbed.
"If, hypothetically, you were able to cause great enough damage to Iustitia, there would be little they could to do uphold the ban on nuclear weapons they created a while ago." Sean said. "And considering your history with Chrio, I am sure the phrase 'Nuking them until all that's left is glass' has a very nice ring to it, don't you agree?"
Daniel paused again before answering. "Very well. Our armies have already begun to mobilize for this war. They will be prepared to fight in within days."
Sean bowed slightly. "I thank you for your generosity and forethought. Now I must leave, before my general has a panic attack."
Sean turned to leave, quickly followed by Peter. As they neared the door, Daniel called out. "Wait. Sean. This war you are starting. It is not just for land, is it? What do you hope to gain from this?"
Sean merely smiled. "Catch."
Peter saw him throw something at Daniel. For a brief second, he saw a black gauntlet shoot out of the robes to grab the object. There was a slight glow from whatever the hand held, before the gauntlet disappeared back into the robe.
As the two walked out of the palace, Sean turned to Peter. "Do you think we can buy a few gallons of holy water from Chrio before we start the war?"
"Whu-Why sir?"
"I'm going to need to be bathing in it for a few hours to get the feeling of being damned to go away. Satanic Christmas..... What will these people think of next...."
