Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

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Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Lucius » Tue Jul 09, 2019 5:05 pm

In the year 1200 B.R. at the Flavian Amphitheater, in the Eternal Capital of the Empire of Mare Nostrum; Rome.

There were all sorts of citizens present at the Amphitheater on this most august of occasions. Patricians and Plebians filled the amphitheater and even the ambassadors stationed in Rome from the various regional powers were arriving by the minute. Then there was a lull as the conversation ceased to show respect to the Procession from the Collegium as they arrived. The Procession was warmly welcomed by the Praetorian Guardsmen who presided over the event for the day.

Today was a very special day, as it was the day of the coronation of Lucius Tiberius Regillum. He would be the youngest Emperor in Marian history. Quite a few Marian Tubus' were blown to announce the beginning of the ceremony. Once again there was a lull in the conversation as the Orchestral Procession assembled began to play as a brief play entailing the life of Emperor Marcus Tiberius Regillium was acted out by the best entertainers from the Imperial Theatre. After the play, just as the Orchestra slowly finished the tragic composition that was chosen to be played during the death scene or the previous emperor, the Tribunal Prefect stood and began to applaud, inciting the crowd in the process, as well as breaking the somber spell that had been cast upon the crowd by the masterfully performed play.

The Marian Tubus' began to trumpet once more, as the applause died down. The Main Event had begun. From the entrance, the soon to-be-emperor rode a horse in as he was escorted to the throne by the Praetorian Guard. Besides Lucius, rode the Triumvirate. The Legatus Prefect, the Tribunal Prefect, and the Praetorian Prefect, and behind them followed the four Cardinal Legates. They rode to the Podium, where the Procession from the Collegium awaited their arrival. Upon their arrival, the prince respectfully greeted the Pontifex Maximus, the Vestalis Maxima, and the Grand Augur and each of the Twelve Flamines Majores and each of the various Flamines Minores, while the Cardinal Legates and the Triumvirate followed suit after the prince. The Clergy of Collegium the brought out the Divine Throne, through which the gods of Mare Nostrum could bless the Emperors of Mare Nostrum, although there had been no blessed emperors in the last three hundred years.

Prince Lucius Tiberius Regillum walked to the Divine Throne and looked at it. He took a deep breath in, and as the eighty-thousand eyes gazed at him, he took a seat. Almost immediately, the sky darkened and three brilliant lights and countless lesser lights shone upon him. Upon closer examination, six symbols could be seen in each of the lights. There were symbols which resembled a Bolt of the Lightning, a Serpentine Staff, and a Laurel Wreath. Exclamations of shock and awe were heard from all around the arena as important figures and insignificant figures froze. The divine lights formed a crown in the form of a wreath which floated to the shocked princes head and landed on it. As quickly as they arrived the lights disappeared leaving only the crown. There was silence in the Flavian Amphitheater. Suddenly three of the Twelve Flamines Majores and quite a few several of the Minores suddenly decreed to hail Emperor Lucius, whose rule was clearly blessed by many divinities.

The Emperor's Procession then made haste to the Regillum Palace accompanied by the Collegium's Procession.
Fear him, for to earn his ire is to earn the ire of the Celestial Gods of the Far East

Paulus Augustus

Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Paulus Augustus » Wed Jul 10, 2019 12:30 pm

In the year 1200 B.R. at the Flavian Amphitheater and Regillum Palace, in the Eternal Capital of the Empire of Mare Nostrum; Rome.

Paulus watched the coronation from an honorary place in the amphitheater. The ceremony amazed the crowds, but he was unaffected by this display of power. After spending time at the imperial court, Paulus got used to such shows. Nevertheless he maintained appearances throughout the event. Back at his capital of Dalma, the governor considered not attending the coronation at all. In his home province certain patricians still offered opposition to his rule, besides the quickest route to Rome from there involved travel by sea - something that Paulus was not very fond of, to put it lightly. However, he was sure that his absence would have been noted and he would rather become noteworthy for other deeds.

Once the ceremony has ended and the Procession traveled back to the Palace, Paulus did the same and rode there with his entourage. Other governors and foreign envoys also traveled to the Regilium Palace, all hoping to get an audience with the fresh Emperor. It looks like luck was on the Paulus' side, as he managed to arrive early at the Palace and thus didn't have to wait long for an audience. He knew that some of those dignitaries will have to wait for hours, but he pitied the young Emperor more, for having to receive them all.

"Procurator of Dalmatia!" shouted the announcer, as Paulus entered the throne room.

Emperor was seated on the throne, with members of the Triumvirate beside him. Emperor was so young in fact, that Paulus heard rumors of using the Triumvirate as a sort of regency council. The governor of Dalmatia suspected who was suggesting such things behind Emperor's back, but he had no concrete evidence. Regardless, it was not an issue for the current time...

Paulus bowed before the throne and addressed the Emperor Lucius.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he started, "may all the gods bless your reign! I must admit, I have mixed feelings about this occasion. The sudden death of your father shocked us all to the core, I am sure. It was a great tragedy for the entire Empire. And yet, I am relieved to see that he left his domain in Your Majesty's capable hands. May it remain there for a long time.

I have brought you some gifts from my humble province, Your Imperial Majesty."

Of course, he didn't arrive in the imperial capital with empty hands. Paulus' servants brought forth the presents, showcasing them before the imperial court. The first gift was a golden laurel. The second was a book describing the reigns of the first seven Emperors of Mare Nostrum. Lastly, Paulus gave to Lucius a ceremonial dagger made of silver and adorned with rubies. After all those items were presented, Paulus addressed the Emperor one more time.

"I hope that you will rule with dignity, with wisdom, and with the power to defeat all enemies of your realm. I'm afraid that I will not be able to remain in the capital for too long, not everybody in my province is a friend of your family... and unfortunately such people are not confined merely to my province."

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Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Marquisal » Fri Jul 12, 2019 10:24 am

THE ARRIVAL

Important thing: My nation on this RolePlay is still the same as Marquisal, but with the past-tech and another name. I want to explain this to not make any confusion. We are The Sweedish Empire
Hours after the coronation of the new emperor, an strange and old man appears at the entrance of the Amphitheater knoking the door not with his fist, but instead with a large musical golden ring.
This strange man was Iskallibur IV the Anxious, the current emperor of The Sweedish Empire, and also a worshipped magician.

Some guards recognized him, and opened the big wooden doors of the Amphitheater.
He was scared by the sound of the doors, but he was too pleased by the architecture to hide somewhere and die as he sometimes tries to do. He was an old man, but he knew what he wanted to do there, he wanted to congratulate the new emperor and give him a present of which he was very proud.


The throne room was full of people wanted to get blessed by the new emperor, thousands of poor people were waiting there just to see the emperor, and some other aristocrats were entering the room before them. One politician said him that he could visit the emperor when ever he wanted, because he was also an emperor and he had the right to enter before the others, but the silly old man refused it, and instead he putted a big and weird looking purple tent, and slept there until everybody had seen the emperor.

After two weeks sleeping, Iskallibur woke up, and realized that the last two people who wanted to visit the emperor were leaving the building, so he burned the tent and walked arround until he found the emperor. He was amazed by the beauty of his clothes, and his small cute face, he suddenly started crying so the emperor feelt a bit worryed and wondered who was this silly weirdo, but this feelings dissappeared when he received a 24m long box, made up of purple paper and gold. Inside it, there were nothing but empty space surrounding a misterious light source that appeared from nothing. When the emperor finished closing his gift he realized that the old man was gone, and the only thing that he left behind was the gift, and some bright and beautiful tears in the floor. So weird he said.

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Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Marquisal » Mon Jul 15, 2019 12:07 pm

THE PORTAL

Important thing: My nation on this RolePlay is still the same as Marquisal, but with the past-tech and another name. I want to explain this to not make any confusion. We are The Sweedish Empire
Some hours after the emperor Iskallibur IV left the Amphitheater, probably leaving the new emperor of the Empire of Mare Nostrum really confused, the tiny and weird old man, while drinking some sweedish alcohol, was walking towards his country, his motherland, his empire, Sweeden. But this time he was not walking to Sweeden to visit his house and sleep, or hiding from the many useless creatures that hate him and tried to kill him in his delurical dreams; no, he was walking to Sweeden to learn about magic, the magic that the new emperor of the Empire of Mare Nostrum does not expect to happen.

After half a year walking through the empire, climbing it's many mountains, swimming in the sea, and shouting at random people, our dearest Iskallibur met his granduncle, Nikolay, during Christmas in his castle that is located near the Pictish Kingdom.
Nikolay, the feudal lord of the sweedish english, the Marquisal Feud, was the responsible of the really intense obsession of Iskallibur with magic, alchemy, drug mushrooms, and chocolate, and this time the weird old man needed someone to help him on this topics, someone like Nikolay.
At the arrival of the sweedish emperor to the Marquisalian Castle where his granduncle is currently living, everybody was sleeping due to the climate and the dissipation of some sleeping drugs that he was letting in the air with one of his many crazy inventions, so he stood in front of the entrance of the castle until the sun of the morning provocated the intense pain on everybody who smelled the drug, and wake up. That did not happen, it was a really cloudy day so he had to climb the low but still well defended walls of the castle, and wake up everybody personally, hand to hand.
After some time, one guard told him that his granduncle was in Stockholm selling some magnets that he crafted by himself, and that he may go back to his home castle after some days of driving his new and crazy invention, the snail board. Our emperor did not say nothing, probably he may have not even realised that he was awake, who knows...

Some days later, Nikolay arrived the front door of the castle, followed by five thousand snails tied to a wooden board, it was ridicoulous, but it did not disturb the crazy mind of our emperor, he just somehow expected that. Now that the family was together, they could start the meeting in which with the help of God, and some green mushrooms, Iskallibur would be able to cast a new spell, which would create a portal in Sweeden to the misterious light source that he gifted to the new emperor of the Empire of Mare Nostrum. That portal was not a normal portal, in fact, nor people or animals could travel through there, just their soul.
After some days discussing about magic, life and chocolate, the two magicians ended up creating the portal, and it was perfect and amazing. A really strong and deep sound was heard in all the World coming from the Marquisal Feud in Sweeden and from the Amphitheater of the Empire of Mare Nostrum. People was scared, birds flew away, flies got organized and started eating people for a very different reason, and animals hidded away, all of this at the same time. A portal was opened, and an older one was closed, it was the starting of a new era, and for the sake of it Iskallibur started laughing like a maniac, nobody understood why because his will of creating a portal was good and noble, maybe he was too tired to realize what he was doing, but the fact is that he did it.

Meanwhile in the Amphitheater, everybody was in panic, nobody understood what was happening, nobody but a sweedish ambassador that now everybody realised that he has been standing right there since the coronation without moving an inch from there. Situation got really complex, and tension started rising.

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Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Resentine-Vistula » Mon Jul 29, 2019 2:03 pm

Early Winter, 1200 B.R.
The cold and snow of winter had just begun settling on the Alarvi town of Vergovia. Sitting at the heart of the Hearthwood forest and the fork of the Vistula, what was once a hidden Alarvi fort has become a city of 20,000, with thatch and wood houses densely packed inside its walls. With the foundation of the Confederation, Vergovia was initially chosen as the capital for its easily defendable position, but has since grown into a center of trade and culture for the Vistulan peoples. At the center of Vergovia lies an open field, in which sits the Fire-Hall, a large and wide building compared to the other buildings in the city. It was the meeting place of the Vistulan Grand Council of Tribes and the host of the Eternal Fire which binds the tribes together. Inside, the first meeting of the 10th Grand Council commenced, and deliberations over who would become the High Chieftain of the Confederation intensified.

Night had just begun settling into the city. Parties held by the city’s officials and many locals began to celebrate the arrival of the winter season, and a good harvest. Inside the Fire-Hall, Genna paced around anxiously around the hallway surrounding the Room of the Eternal Fire, twirling her long, curly black hair and tugging on a loose piece of her green and yellow checkered tunic and braccae, the colors of the Alarvi Tribe. All of this was held together by a tied up black leather belt, covered in red and white cloth cross stitching, used to symbolize her role as a candidate for the High Chieftainship. Though she was normally calm and collected, tonight she was in frustration and fear. Inside the Room of the Eternal Fire was where the Grand Council of Tribes met. The wood and thatch walls of the 90 year old building creaked quietly with anticipation as the Grand Council deliberated inside with the Council of Druids, selecting the Speaker for the 10th Grand Council. They also had to go through the many religious ceremonies and sacrifices needed to get the blessings of the gods before addressing the Candidates for the role of High Chieftain.

Part I
[+] The Trial of Knowledge
Much commotion and praying permeated out of the room, before a sudden and sharp silence as the sound of footsteps creeped towards the door. Audata, the grey-haired Druidess of Vergovia and Genna’s mentor through childhood, opened the door to the Room of the Eternal Fire. She wore a simple grey dress and tunic, the colors of the druid leadership. She signaled Genna to come forward. “It is time.” she exclaimed.

Genna followed Audata inside, temporarily blinded by the bright flame of the Eternal Fire, though it quickly subsided. There she stood near the pit of the Fire at the heart of the semicircle shaped room. On the left sat the 50 men and women that made up the Grand Council of Tribes, all in their tribes’ colors. At the front of them stood Borsus Cantium Vistali, an elderly man in a blue and green checkered tunic. Borsus was born during the 3rd Great Council, and was a veteran politician having both served in the Great Council and as a Chief under the High Chieftainship. On the right sat the 50 Druids and Druidesses that were chosen to represent the Council of Druids at this first meeting. Standing in front of them was Audata, bearing the Staff of the Deer, a wooden staff topped off by a Bronze Deer, given to the most senior Druid in the Confederation. And standing next to the Eternal Fire, wearing eccentric dyed deer hides and wearing buck skulls on their heads were a pair of the Firekeepers. The Firekeepers were elite warriors that played a role in many religious ceremonies for the Grand Council. They were notorious throughout the Confederation for both their strength, size, and their vows of silence, giving them an almost unearthly presence.

Borsus stepped forward, and began speaking in his booming but raspy voice, “Genna Vergovia Alarvi, you stand before us as the one selected by the Druids for High Chieftain. Many in this room have heard of your feats of survival, combat, and exploration. Many in this room believe you to be blessed by Gehalennia herself. For the next few nights and days, your knowledge, your will, your strength, and most importantly your faith, will be tested to see if you are truly prepared to lead this confederacy and its peoples. Are you prepared for these trials?”

Genna’s eyes dashed around the room, seeming to look for some sign of approval, some reassurance that she would do ok. Even Audata only returned a neutral glance. She closed her eyes, breathed in, and replied, “I am ready, Speaker.”

Borsus, himself looking quietly relieved, announced to the room, “Let the Trial of Knowledge begin”. All 50 members of the Grand Council stood almost in unison. Each Councillor was ordered to prepare several questions for Candidates for High Chieftain, containing questions about religion, war, peace, policy, and civil affairs. If any councilor felt that a question was in-adequately answered, they could choose instead of asking further questions, to press the Candidate on the matter, which in the past had led to single questions taking hours for some. The Trial of Knowledge normally only lasted for several hours, but a few were recorded as lasting for almost a full day and night.

The Trial lasted throughout the night, and while some members chose to be quick, many chose to engage and put the pressure on Genna. From trading with other tribes around the Vistula and dealing with the looming threat of Mare Nostrum, to small-time bandits and securing blessing from the gods for the upcoming harvest, Genna tested on issues until the Vergovia's streets sat quiet. One by one, the Councillors returned to their seats, and though many seemed satisfied with the answers they received, more than a few emoted frustrations with their answers.

Once all of the Councillors were seated again, Borsus stood again and spoke, “That concludes the Trial of Knowledge. We will now begin voting procedures. Councillors are to break into their Tribal Groups for consensus and discussion.”

Each tribe huddled into groups and began discussing. Genna, still standing near the Eternal Fire, began to nervously tighten her fist. Though her reputation as a leader preceded her, many of the other tribes experienced trouble under the previous Alarvi High Chieftain, who’s name was struck from history for his dishonor in office. Though united, many folk among the tribes had long memories, and would not easily forget the crimes done unto them.


The internal discussion amongst each tribe only lasted about an hour before they’d each made a decision. Borsus once again stood, and walked in front of the Fire. “We shall start with First Tribe, and we will proceed in join order. Vistali: What say you on this?”

The Vistali tribe speaker, named Adgennorix, was a young brown-haired man with a lengthy, knotted beard, wearing a tunic of blue and green. Though he was young, he was a veteran soldier, defending the Confederation’s eastern border for the last 10 years. “We of the Vistali have carefully considered this Alarvi leader, and she has proven her might and mettle time and time again, and even before this very council. While Genna Alarvi is not perfect, none of us are, and she has proven her skills even today. We will challenge her on issues close to us, but, we certainly see her as fit.”

Borsus nodded. “Thank you, councilor. Alarvi, you may now speak on the matter.”

The Alarvi speaker, a short, red headed woman named Cassa, stood, wearing a thick wool dress checkered green and yellow, the colors of the Alarvi clan. Cassa and Genna were lifelong friends, though Cassa had gone to serve in civil chieftain roles while Genna had gone to serve with the Vistulan Military. “Though she is one of us, Genna is one who has been challenged time and time again by fate and my her own tribe, and every time she has emerged victorious. As we have before, we stand behind her now.”

“Thank you. Coii, the right to speak is now yours.”

The Coii speaker, a tall man with long black hair named Corio, who wore the Coii traditional colors of green and grey on his tunic, and a long grey cloak across his back. Corio had made his name not as a soldier or a civil chief but as peace chief, serving as an ambassador and negotiator to many of the tribes neighboring the Vistula Confederation. His speech was almost songlike, calmness being carried in with his words. “Genna Alarvi stands before us, competent and confident in her answers. Though she speaks well and with some knowledge, we look forward to hearing what the other tribes think before we reach any certainty on her position.”

“Very well. Brennoi, you may now speak.”

The Brennoi speaker, a balding elderly man named Oxsonos, began to rise. Wearing a tunic of checkered blue and yellow, the colors of the Brennoi, Oxsonos was a respected member of the Grand Council, having served for several decades as both a councilor and as a Civil Chief in agriculture. His voice carried his years of experience with him as he spoke, “While she certainly is qualified, the question for us remains about the Mare Marians that inhabit the lands to our south. We understand there power and strength is much greater than ours, but Genna Alarvi would not seek to avoid conflict with them which we find most distressing. While we understand protecting our own, are we not risking our own peoples by not swearing off war with such a powerful enemy? Their lands and armies are vast, their population vaster, so why risk war at all? We’ve watched them conquer so many other peoples, enslaving them, why even leave the possibility of that for our peoples on the table?”

The Travari speaker, a middle aged man and former general named Cavarus, stood quickly. Bearing a long black beard and wearing checkered red and green, Cavarus stood heads taller than most other members of the Council, and brought a large, booming voice that echoed through the chamber. He spoke out of line, which cut sharply across the air of the chamber, “How dare you treat peace like it was ever an option with these monsters! We’ve seen what the Marians have done, sweeping over Gallica, massacring tribes, butchering families and selling them into slavery, and then claiming the territory as their own. These are not folk who seek coexistence, but conquest and submission. We should not only be preparing to defend ourselves, but helping tribes captured by Marian rule begin rebellion as well, something Genna Alarvi has also refused to commit to in this Trial. If we bow our heads even slightly, the hooves of Marian horses will come beating down upon it. We must fight back, not just for the Vistula, but for all tribes against the Southern Menace!”

Oxsonos stood once again, riled by Cavarus's comments, and retorted, "They may very well be monsters, but, they are not a monster that we can war against. Against a thousand tribes the Marians have fought, and against a thousand they have succeeded. We should be willing to make any compromises to preserve our sovereignty against their threat, which looms over us like a pack of wolves around a herd of deer. We will inevitably lose some, but does that matter so long as the flock survives? You would have as charge head first to the wolves so they could bite our throats and slay the whole of our peoples. We have to make the best choice for the whole Confederation, not whichever satisfies your blood-lust. Though she may not understand that duty fully, she understands it enough to reject your calls for war."

Cavarus, visibly red with frustration, bellowed across the Council Chambers "If we do not fight back, they will slaughter the whole herd one by one until there are none left! You would placate the wolves of the South, believing they would not hunt us down after placating them for one meal. These Marians are not so unthinking as you see them. They plan, they plot, and they pit folk against each other and then they sweep in and steal up the prize. Their current Emperor is but a pup, inexperienced and unaware of the challenge before him. We need to act quickly if we want to have an opportunity to challenge the Marians on their own turf, instead of ours. It is not blood-lust, it is practicality, and with all due respect, you have allowed your experience to blind you to any alternative. Perhaps you should find someone to replace you who won't sit as a stone in the face of the greatest challenge the Vistula have ever faced."

The room erupted suddenly into chaos as both Bernnoi and Travari councilors began shouting at each other, leaving their seats and screaming in each other's faces. Though rowdiness between individual councilors was not uncommon, commotions between whole tribes were, and were often broken up by the Firekeepers. However the rules were different during the Trial of Knowledge. Though it was a display of personal ability and politics, it was also a test of leadership. Though the disputes were often less disruptive, it would fall on the Candidate to resolve any disputes that arise during their selection. And so as voices between the Brennoi and the Travari rose, Genna began thinking.

Moving swiftly, she walked behind the Firekeepers where a table that kept fuel for the fire and incense powder for ceremonies. She knew she would not be able to shout over the rowdy men and women of the council, but she would be able to gain their attention in another way. Grabbing as much of the powder as she could, Genna threw the incense into the Eternal Fire, causing it to flare up and almost reach the ceiling of the room. Except for the crackling of the fire and the intense and fresh smell of the incense, the room fell still. Genna stepped forward, all eyes now on her, and spoke, “Now that I have your attention, let us resolve this issue over my thoughts regarding Mare Nostrum. What clarifications do you all feel I need to make?”

A silence still filled the room for a short while, but Cavarus was the first to speak up. “What the Travari want to hear is… that you’re not going to give up the Vistula without a fight. We have watched as the Marians swept over Gallica. We want to know that the same thing will not happen here.”

Genna simply nodded, “Done. No piece of land, no Vistulan man, woman, or child will be hauled away in chains without a fight. Not by the Marians, not by anyone. That I can say with no doubts.” The Travari broke out in a gleeful uproar while Oxonos and the Brennoi stood in disgruntled silence.

As the Travaris’ excitement died down, Oxonos began to speak, “Genna Alarvi, you speak great words but with little meaning. How much blood are you willing to commit when the Marians inevitably march? How many men, women, and children must be sacrificed for you to be satisfied in your quest for violence against the Marians? A village? A town? A whole tribe? How many people would you ask to die for you for the sake of this quest against the Marian Empire?”

Genna closed her eyes for a moment in contemplation. With her last answer she knew this question was coming. She took a deep breath, and responded cordially, “Councillor, simply because I wish to see no Vistulan dragged away in chains or see their lands seized by a foreign invader does not mean I will seek war. I’ve fought in combat, I’ve seen the outcomes of war, and it is not an outcome I wish for in our engagement with the Marians. We will avoid conflict with them, but I will not do it at any cost. I will not be a warmonger, but I will not sacrifice our own people, who we have an oath to protect, for the sake of avoiding it. Is that satisfactory?”

Minor grumblings came from the Travari and the Brennoi, but Oxonos remained almost neutral in his expression. “Your words are spoken with knowledge carried on them. They are understood.” He turned and made his way back to his original seating, along with the Travari and other Brennoi councilors.

Borsus, lingering in the background after Genna took over, stepped forward in front of the Eternal Fire with a short smirk on his face. “Do the Brennoi have anything more to add to this discussion?”

Oxonos stood, seeming to contemplate for a moment but bluntly stating, “Not, Speaker. Not at this time.”

“Very well. Travari, you may now speak, unless you need another tribe to speak so you may interrupt them?”

A slight chuckle travelled across the room, even amongst some of the Travari Councillors, but relative silence returned as Cavarus stood. “We feel that what was needed to be said, has been, and the Travari are ready to move to the next step in the selection process.”

Borsus nodded. “Very well. Discussion is now concluded.” He motioned for Genna to stand in his place, at the heart of the chamber in front of the Eternal Fire. As she moved forward, he began to pace in front of the assembled councilors and druids, who still lurked in silence, observing the Grand Council squabble. “We shall now enter consensus voting. Each tribe shall discuss amongst themselves once again, having consulted the other tribes. Once each tribe has reached a consensus, they will submit one single vote for their whole tribe to the Speaker. If the Candidate gains the approval of four of the five tribes, she will move on with our approval to face the Trial of Strength. You may begin your discussions.” Borsus stepped back as the tribes again broke into individual discussion. A half an hour went by as each tribe discussed amongst themselves again, debating whether to let Genna proceed. Genna stood at the center of them all, feeling her palms sweat as her nerves began to get to her. Despite the initial approval from the Travari, she couldn’t say with total confidence that she’d won them all over. And the Brennoi were undoubtedly disheartened with her answer even if they found it competent. Even a vote of abstention, due to failure to reach a consensus, could set them back several hours worth of discussion if Genna could not reach the quorum of votes.

The discussion slowly died down as each tribe made their decision, or lack thereof. As the chamber approached total silence, Borsus stepped forward once again. “Have all tribes reached a decision?” a resounding “Yes.” echoed throughout the chamber from all tribes. “Very well, we shall now proceed to voting in order of joining. Vistali, how do you vote?”

Adgennorix stood, and his voice echoed across the now silent chamber, “The Vistali have agreed, and approve of Genna Vergovia Alarvi as the High Chieftain.” As he sat down, Genna began to feel an anxiety enter her as the vote went through. She began to fumble with her hands and breathe slow, shallow breaths to try and calm herself.

Borsus glanced over tp Genna, noticing her anxiety kicking in but continuing the tally. “Alarvi, how does your tribe vote?”
Cassa stood and stepped forward, “The Alarvi stand behind the candidate. We see Genna Vergovia as fit to lead us, and the Confederation.”

“Very well. Coii, how do you speak on this? What vote shall your people cast?”

Corio rose up from his seat and cleared his throat, “After much judgement, The Coii see Genna Vergovia Alarvi as a sound and fit candidate as High Chieftain. She goes forward with our approval.”

Borsus nodded and turned to face the Brennoi councilors. “Brennoi, what say you? How shall you proceed in this vote?”

Oxonos stood, almost uncomfortably, and began to speak, “The Brennoi regret to inform the Council that we cannot reach a decision. We will abstain.” several of the Travari councilors began whispering to each other, and many of the Brennoi councilors looked on with contempt.

“Understood.” Borsus then faced the Travari contingent, noticing the whispering councilors, and calling them out “If the councilors have anything to speak, they shall do it before or after a vote, not during. Control your gossiping.” He then pivoted to address Cavarus directly as his councilors fell into an embarrassed silence, “How do the Travari speak on this? What is their decision?”

Cavarus stood tall, but took a long breath before speaking, “After consultation amongst ourselves, the Travari deem Genna Alarvi fit to proceed. Though we have reservations, we are confident in her abilities.”

“Very well. By a total of four approvals and one abstention, Genna Vergovia Alarvi now stands before you as the approved candidate for High Chieftain. She will proceed to the next trial with the blessing of this Council. All rise so we may issue this approval.”

The whole chamber rose. Borsus walked over to the incense, grabbing a large bowl to burn incense in and walked over to the Eternal Fire. The Firekeepers reached down to the edges of the firepit, scooping up handfuls of ash and filling the bowl with it. After the bowl was filled around a third of the way, the Firekeepers went over to the supply table and each grabbed a set of large iron tongs, which they used to pull burning pieces of charcoal out of the fire and into the incense bowl. After placing 10 pieces, 2 for each tribe, Borsus carried the bowl back to the supply table and took several handfuls of incense powder, spreading it over the burning charcoal and ash. Picking up the bowl yet again as the incense began to burn, he placed it in the center in front of the Eternal Fire.

He stepped back, and then began to recite the short prayer of approval which he’d seen recited so many times before him, “This Council has trialed the Candidate, posing her with many questions, engaging her on many subjects. This Council has consulted itself, remarking on the candidates responses and judging if they were worthy. This Council has found that Genna Vergovia Alarvi is fit to lead the peoples of the Vistula. We hope Gehalennia favors her, and keeps her fortune with her. We pray Epona grants her knowledge, and guides her during times of crisis and war. We hope Etain blesses her with safe travels and keeps her heart guided along the right path. We Pray Ogmios protects the lands beneath her, so that our peoples remain truly free. And we hope Lughos sees her mind protected from corruption and degradation, so she may guide us clearly. So say we all.”

Solemnly, the room recited, “So say we all.” With the voting completed, the Druids finally stood, having quietly waited for the Grand Council to finish, and exited the Fire-Hall out onto the frost-covered field surrounding the Hall, with Genna and a pair of Firekeepers following them not far behind. Just outside the Hall stood ten lit torches, placed there by a pair of Firekeepers who stood at either end of the line of torches. Each of the torches was picked up by the ten most senior members of the druids, starting with Audata and proceeding to the other elder members of the Druids.
Part II
[+] The Trial of Strength
Assembling in a loose column, each end protected by Firekeepers, the procession of druids, druidesses, and Genna walked through the quiet, late night snow-covered streets of Vergovia, making their way towards the city’s outer wall and main gate. Though quiet, there was still a team of guards on watch. For a moment, not recognizing the large procession trying to leave the city, the guards assembled in front of the gate, attempting to halt this large mass of people trying to leave. However, when they recognized the armor of the Firekeepers, they realized what was happening and opened the gates, allowing the Druids to exit the city.

As the group walked for around half an hour, following the edge of the river through the Hearthwood forest that surrounded Vergovia. Now led by Audata, the group continued until they found a tree with white bark and who’s red leaves did not shed, as many other trees around it had. To the Vistulans, these trees were known as Spiritwoods, and were used as religious markers in nature to their goddess Epona. This particular tree was the one used to mark the location of the second Trial of Leadership, the Trial of Strength. As the group dispersed themselves silently along the river shore, Genna was led forward by Audata to the Vistula’s edge in front of the Spiritwood. She dug her torch into the dirt at the river’s edge, and Genna did the same. Audata turned to Genna, whispered a small prayer, and then proclaimed, “This is where you shall commit the Trial of Strength. It will not only prove the endurance of your spirit, but your protection by the Gods. Are you prepared?”

Though she had prepared, Genna knew very little of the Trial of Strength. All she could find was that it involved the River Vistula itself was also the Trial that the fewest candidates survived. She stepped back only slightly, but even that slight step seemed to bring all eyes bearing down on her. Genna brought her head down, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, before announcing, “I am ready, Druidess.”

Genna put her toe into the Vistula, breaking through the thin layer of ice that had formed. Nothing but cold. She felt as though the river had sent all the blood in her body running from where she’d made contact. She took another breath, and began wading into the river. She continued until she was chest deep, feeling the numbing cold crawl up her body. Before she could go any deeper, Audata called out for her to stop, and then turned towards the Firekeepers that escorted the group. “It is time.”

The Firekeepers rushed into the water, making their way towards Genna. Even with their ceremonial armor, they moved surprisingly fast. Genna began to realize why so many candidates had not survived this trial. Eyes wide with panic, Genna thought about swimming away as the adrenaline began rushing through her body, though she realized that even if she could, the ice and her now soggy clothes would slow her down enough that the towering Firekeepers would catch up. She tried to ready herself, but it was too late, the Firekeepers had caught up to her and grabbed her arms and head. They turned her to Audata, who was reciting a blessing to Gehalennia with the other druids. As they finished the blessing, Audata faced the Firekeepers, and lifted her staff into the air.

Immediately, the Firekeepers shoved Genna’s head under the water. She tried to kick their legs out from under them, but could they not be moved. She tried to pull her arms out from their grip, but their grip only tightened as she struggled against their strength. Though only a few minutes had passed, for Genna they felt almost like hours, struggling desperately against the Firekeepers who now seemed determined to end her. She could feel her energy and breath leaving her as she continued her fight against the two Guardians. Though she tried, Genna eventually felt her last breath leave her, and her vision faded to black.

Genna awoke on the riverbank, coughing up water and feeling pain in her chest along with an intense cold all over her body. She felt lightheaded, confused, traumatized and waterlogged, however she could see all of the druids and duidesses had surrounded her, watching to see how she responded. Genna tried to get up, but almost immediately collapsed back into the snowy bank of the river. Audata stepped forward. “She lives. This is proof. The Gods have protected her, and intend for her to lead our peoples through the coming time.” Audata motioned to the Firekeepers, who were standing outside the circle of Druids. “Keepers, step forward. Carry the High Chieftain to my home. There we shall undertake the final test.” Genna, still in shock, tried to struggle, but was too cold and weakened from the previous incident to put up a real fight and passed out. The Firekeepers carried Genna back into the village, with the procession of druids and druidesses following them to Audata’s hut near the heart of the town.

Gennna awoke on a straw bed inside the small, round hut she’d often called a second home during her childhood, wrapped in several deerskin coverings to keep her warm after her near drowning in the river. Audata’s hut was essentially a single, large circular room, though it contained everything the aging druidess required, from a stone hearth for heat, cooking and brewing potions, to several spare straw beds for any suffering afflictions her apprentices could not heal. Though there were many skilled and well supplied druids and druidesses, Audata stood out amongst all of them, with many across the Confederation seeking out her knowledge and healing. Genna felt extremely lucky to have known Audata so closely for her many years in Vergovia, though she felt rather distrustful after the incident at the river.

Genna leaned up from the bed, she began to wonder how long she was out as she noticed the sunlight leak in from under the door. She also smelled the burning of the fire in the hearth, and felt it’s warm glow project across the large hovel. Though she was relatively warm, the clothes she was wearing were still soggy from the previous incident in the river. However, on the stone floor of the hut, not far from the hearth, and folded neatly lay a clean wool tunic and long skirt, bearing the traditional yellow and green checkered pattern of the Alarvi clan. Though she personally didn’t like skirts, it was better than the soggy clothing she was wearing right now.

As she was changing, Genna thought about the Trials she had been put through. The Trial of Knowledge made sense enough, putting herself in front of the councilors of the Confederation to deem her worthy of leadership, but the Trial of Strength confused her. What was learned by trying to drown her other than her supposed protection by the gods? What was gained other than almost killing the candidate? Genna felt more and more frustrated as she pondered the motivations behind such a ritual.

As Genna pondered this and finished changing into the new clothes, though they were a bit loose for her, they stayed together with the help of the leather belt she already had, even with it still more than a bit soaked. Almost on queue, Audata walked into her hut, carrying with her a wicker basket filled with plants, animal furs, bones, and bagged powders. She moved to a table next to her hearth, placing the basket down and then turning to face Genna with a joyful smile on her face, showing the boundless energy that was still in this elderly druidess. “It’s good to see you are awake. We were worried something worse than you being as cold as ice could have happened. Are you alright?”

Genna, still quite annoyed about almost getting drowned, almost dismissively responded, “Oh I’m fine. You know feeling waterlogged, slightly terrified of the water, wondering why a family friend tried to have me drowned last night. But just great outside of that.”

Audata let out a deep and heavy sigh, carrying with it a feeling of regret. “I understand you were not expecting that to happen, and I am sorry for putting you through that. But that is what the test was for: to test your both your physical strength and your strength of will. You did not overpower the Firekeepers, which was fine. What mattered was that you did not give up, even as you began to lose your senses. And your survival showed that the Gods at the very least protected you, and the very best approved of you as the Candidate for High Chieftain. And you lived, so why worry so much?”

Genna became very visibly angered by what she felt was a dismissive approach to the issue. “I may have lived, but what about all the candidates who didn’t? What about those who did drown in that river? Even if they ‘failed’ the Trial, they could’ve gone on to become leaders in their own rights, civil chiefs for lower offices or military leaders. Instead, they’re but bodies on a pyre since we decided to drown them in the Vistula to prove their worthiness. How is that right, or just? Are we not better than simple murder for our own people?”

Audata, again, seemed regretful, and even understanding. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that wasn’t the course they were set on. But the Vistula is our most sacred landmark for the whole Confederation, and protects all of the Five Tribes. If it was not there that they were to live, where else would the Gods have protected them? Not on the borders against the neighboring tribes, and certainly not against beasts of the wild or disasters and disease. We have to have faith in their choices, even if their way of speaking is… brutish.”

Genna, still annoyed by the answer, retorted, “But why not just let them go on and see if they would survive these other events? Surely there must be another way we can seek the consent of the Gods without slaughtering our own kin?”

Audata shrugged. “If there is a way, we have not seen it in the Ancient texts. The Gods do not communicate directly, they never have, or at least not without some assistance from certain spells and potions. So if there is they must help us indirectly or we must find it on our own. And so far they haven’t.” Audata turned back to her basket, and began unloading all of the supplies she’d gathered onto the table.”I understand your frustration. It is something I have dedicated some time to looking into myself. But there just has not been another way to do this yet.”
Part III
[+] The Trial of the Mind
Audata began pouring some of the powders into one of the many wooden bowls she kept lying around on her table for mixing, along with throwing the bones she’d gathered into a bronze brewing pot. She then turned back to Genna “So, are you feeling strong enough to continue? Or do you wish to renounce your candidacy? The next step can have… risks, so I understand if you back away after the previous trial.”

Genna pondered the situation she found herself in. For a moment, she considered backing away, leaving the duty of High Chieftain to another, but then she thought about having come all this way, and to walk away to gain nothing. “No, I’ll continue.” Genna proclaimed, “What’s the next step?”

Audata pulled out a large jug of fresh water from the river, pouring it into the brewing pot, and then placing the brewing pot over the hearth, allowing it to warm and boil. She then faced Genna, and addressed the question, “The next step will be the Trial of the Mind. you will drink what is known in our tradition as a Mind potion. It is a mind altering drink, it will allow you to see a vision with meaning to your future. It could be from the past, could be the present, it could be the future. It could even be something the Gods have conjured exclusively for you to interpret your destiny.”

Genna imagined what taking this would be like. She’d never needed an actual potion before, and always imagined them as black and oozy, uncomfortable to the taste. Though she was more concerned about the mind altering effects of this item. “What exactly will it do to my mind? What sort of risks are there?”

Audata seemed to pause and ponder this for a moment, and then responded almost coyly, “There are several possibilities. Some good. Most of them are not mental risks but physical ones. Weakness, sickness, headaches. Things that could take time to wear off. Are you still sure you want to do this?”

Genna, though weighing the possibilities again, said reassured, ‘Yes, without a doubt. There’s no point in going back now.”

Audata nodded. “Very well. It will take time to make the potion, and I will need to focus. You may wait here, or take some time to stretch your legs, go about the town. Either way, it should be ready by… I want to say around midday.”

Genna returned to the straw bed that she had awoken from not so long ago. “If it’s alright, I’d rather wait here. I think I have many things to ponder.”

Audata turned back to her brewing supplies, “Very well, my child. You may remain. I will get to work.” As Genna sat on the bed, meditating on her course of action and the previous night’s events, Audata got to work, mixing and crushing powders and bones, placing them into the small brewing pot which now sat above her fire, mixing the different elements in to make the Mind potion. The process took hours, and though there was a smokestack leading out of the hut, a thin layer of cloud seemed to loom over the interior. When Audata finished, grabbed a large bronze spoon, moving the liquid from the brewing pot into a small wooden bowl. When the bowl was full, she took it over to Genna, who stood up to meet her and take the bowl.

Audata looked on, seeming almost nervous. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It can be… a bit intense, especially for your first time.”

Genna pondered her options again momentarily. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then responded, “I am ready for what comes.”

“Very well. May Gehalennia continue to grant you fortune. I look forward to hearing about what you saw.” Audata said, handing over the bowl to Genna. Inside, a thin, watery black liquid sat. It smelled strange, almost like a meat broth, but also strangely sweet like a summer fruit.

As soon as Genna drank from the bowl, she began to feel woozy. She began to feel the adrenaline rush through her body, feeling a need to flee. She tried to walk towards the door of the hut but felt her legs collapsing under her. As she fell, her vision began to blacken, only seeing Audata rush towards her as she collapsed to the floor. Genna felt like she was drifting away from her body, as she found herself powerless to move even her fingers as she entered a deep trance.

Genna awoke prone on a rough stone surface. The area around her was pitch black, though she could hear the sound of wind and rushing water echoing through whatever chamber she found herself in. Then suddenly, a small flame was lit in front of her. Genna approached it, watching the flame get brighter. She listened as the sounds of the wind and water began dying down and the flame crackling became louder, and then suddenly quiet as Genna stopped directly in front of it. On either side of the flame now stood a man, one dressed in the armor of the Marian Legions, the other wearing a traditional Vistulan checkered tunic and a set of iron chain-mail. Both men reached out to each other and shook hands. As they did, the flame that stood between them grew larger and louder, consuming both men as it expanded and now rushing towards Genna. She tried to turn and run, but the flame had already begun surrounding her, as her vision once again faded to black.

Genna awoke again, this time on top of dirt and mud. Before she even got up, she could smell ash and fire in the air. As she rose up, wiping the dirt off her face, she began to hear it. Screaming. Men, women, children. The sound of horse hooves charging across the dirt. She began to see the area around her, a grain field, burning, and a village not far from it, also ablaze. Dark clouds blocking out the sun while a mist of ash and fire coated the air. Around her, villagers fled for their lives, chased by men in Marian armor on horseback. Suddenly Genna heard a loud yell. A voice out in the distance, but not far in the fields. Genna took off in a dash, hoping to make it in time.

When she arrived, she found 3 Marian Horsemen surrounding a Vistulan Shield-maiden, longsword in hand, and a small family of farmers. The Marians were toying with the warrior, prodding her with their spears as the field around her and the family burned. All around them, many more Vistulans fled, with warriors trying to protect them as Marian horsemen raced down upon them. Genna felt the urge to run, to flee the destruction around her. However, as she looked down in distress, she noticed a long object covered in dirt and ash. She reached down and brushed the dirt off the object, finding a Marian Gladius, still sheathed, unused by whichever soldier had it last. Genna took a deep breath in contemplation, and unsheathed the weapon. Even with the sun hidden, the blade still had a gleam, almost an aura emanating from it. She looked up towards the three Marian Horseman in the field in front of her, let out a screeching battlecry, and charged towards them.

As Genna approached at full speed, they still seemed to not notice her, either due to the noise around them or to their focus on the Shield-maiden and the family she defended. As Genna closed in on one, she lept up, hoping to either stab him in his backside or use her weight to knock him off the horse. However, as she lept into him, she fell through him, like he was only a projection. Suddenly, everything stopped. The Fire and smoke froze, and Marian soldiers stopped in place, the screaming ended. Then, water came flooding in from the village, sweeping away the frozen Marian soldiers as Genna struggled against the water to keep her place in the field. Though it was only there for a few moments, the force of the water left Genna exhausted and out of breath. She turned towards the Shield-maiden and the family that was with her. As she turned toward them, the Shield-maiden let loose a lone tear from her eye, and then let out an intense but quiet scream as she dissipated into dust. The family that was with her soon did the same, dissipating into clouds of ash and dust. As the Sun finally broke through the clouds, the fires around her died. All that remained was ash across the burnt fields, and the burned out village not far from it. Genna paused for a moment, and then collapsed to her knees, feeling nothing but defeat and failure. However, as she lay kneeling, she began to hear the sound of rushing water. Turning, she saw a massive wave come rushing towards her, taking her up and under the surface of the water. As she tried to swim to the surface, she felt a force dragging her back down, struggling to keep her from rising.

Genna jolted awake, once again in the familiar straw bed of Audata’s hut. The elderly druidess rushed over to Genna from her hearth, checking her eyes and trying to gain her attention. “Genna, are you alright? Are you hurt? How many fingers do I have?” She waved her left hand in front of Genna’s face, hoping for a response.

Genna slowly came to her senses, still woozy from the potion, “Uhh… four. You sacrificed one to Epona for safe passage through Gallica during the Marian conquests there.”

“Very good, you can still think clearly.” Audata moved down, feeling Genna’s arms and legs for any other injuries. “Usually there is not such an instant, strong reaction. Do you feel any pain? You took a hard fall after you drank it, I was worried you cracked your skull.”

Genna slowly got up from the bed, stretching her legs out over its edge. “No… no it’s okay, I’m fine.” As she tried to get up out of the bed, she felt a headache suddenly come on, and then her legs collapsed from under her, forcing her down to the floor. Audata grabbed her before Genna could fall onto the floor, helping Genna back up onto the bed. Audata held open Genna’s left eye and she noticed a blackness still in the veins of the eye, slowly fading. “You’re still experiencing the after effects of the vision potion.” Audata said, “Stay right here.”

Audata went back over to the hearth where another potion was already brewing. Grabbing one of her bronze spoons and a wooden bowl, she scooped the bubbling liquid out of the brewing pot and into the bowl, bringing it over to Genna. The liquid was a light orange color, though it was still very thick, almost ooze-like in substance, though it maintained a strong, sweet smell. Genna passively lurched back from the substance, “What… what is it?”

Audata rolled her eyes just a little, annoyed her ‘patient’ was wasting time, “Do not worry about it. Just drink it please. It will help you recover faster from the Mind potion.” Genna took the bowl and began drinking the mysterious liquid. Though it tasted as sweet as it smelled, it also stung, and seemed to cling to the sides of her throat as it went down. As Genna stopped drinking the potion, Audata began looking at Genna’s eyes again, watching the blackness in her veins recede. Genna began to feel the headache dissipate, the ache still lurked. Audata backed away, and walked over to the door of the hut where her bronze deer staff stood, laid up against the wall of the hut. Grabbing it, Audata turned back to Genna, and asked the question that had been on her mind since Genna awoke, “So, my child, what did you see? What visions did the Gods gift to you?”

Genna took her time describing the whole thing, from the meeting in the cave, to the burning village and the attack in the fields to the aftermath and destruction in its wake. Throughout, Audata stood, seeming to think intensely on the descriptions Genna gave her. When Genna was done describing the events that had unfolded in her vision, she asked a question, “So what were the risks? When you told me about drinking the potion you made it sound a lot more dangerous than just a headache and a bad case of dizziness.”

Audata nodded, and calmly responded, “Well there were several possible results. We have some record of a few candidates experiencing bouts of insanity from their visions, a few being traumatized into muteness. Not everyone has the mental strength to deal with what they see so they just shut it out in one way or another. You are very lucky.”

Genna felt shocked by this revelation. If she had known, she was unsure whether she’d follow through with it. “Is that risk really worth it though? Almost killing people like you did with the Trial of Strength, or driving them mad with this trial? Do the risks really outweigh the rewards of such tests?”

Audata pondered this question for a moment. While it was not the first time someone had asked such a question, it was the first time it was someone so close to her. However, she developed a response quickly, “I don’t disagree, entirely, but these tests have driven folk to madness and also created some of the greatest leaders this Confederation has ever seen so far. Perhaps they could use reform, but alas, we don’t have much time right now.”

Genna, feeling stronger now, stood up from the bed, she began to pace around the hut, stretching her legs for what felt like the first time in days. She then turned to Audata. “Very well. We can discuss this another time. What’s next for us.”

Audata began to walk towards the door, and said to Genna, “I have to report your vision to the Druid Council and let the Grand Council know you passed your Test of Mind. You should stay here, rest, eat, and plan for the future. Consider who you would add to your Advisement Council when you take power, and ponder the vision you had. For anything, as always, my home is yours, Genna. I will return soon.”

Genna nodded in acknowledgement, “Very well. I shall remain here. Travel safely, old friend.” Audata exited the hovel, making her way through the now bustling midday streets of Vergovia back to the Fire-Hall, where the Druids and the Grand Council awaited her return. Genna returned to her straw bed, pondering what she had seen, terrified of what it meant was coming, for both her and the Confederation…...
[+] Nation Information
Nation: Vistula Confederation
Capital: Vergovia

Executive Branch: High Chieftan and Small Council

High Chieftain: Genna Vergovia Alarvi
Chief of Trade: Lugurix Averdia Vistali
Chief of Supply: Atporix Aedia Travari
Chief of War: Rikua Cenaricum Alarvi
Chief of Laws: Tascius Veridium Coii
Chief of Whispers: Caetia Adoridum Brennoi

Legislative Branch: Grand Council of Tribes

Council Speaker: Borsus Cantium Vistali

Judicial Branch: Council of Druids

Druidess of Vergovia: Audata Gotia Alarvi

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Inferno33
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Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Inferno33 » Tue Jul 30, 2019 2:03 pm

In The Year 1200 B.R. Dyflin, The Green Isle.

The Long Palace of the Grand Jarl was a full once again with the sounds of feasting, all too common to Niall. True, it was a celebration of another cycle, but he needed quiet. He had gotten word of the old Emperor's death some time ago, and he need time to plan for whoever would take The Empire's throne. Suddenly, two men, looking ragged from travel, burst into the hall. "Grand Jarl, we're back from The Empire, we have news." It was to of Niall's envoys, traveling for a trade mission.

They ran to Niall's side, then whispered of the new emperor's coronation, Niall's face stretched, before returning to his scowl. Dismissing the envoys, he returned to the feast, but with his mind racing. After the feast he retreated with his lower nobles to Lella's Blood shrine, ending both the evening and the old year having each man bleed himself to the goddess for good luck in the year. As he prayed to His Mistress Lella, he asked for her wit for the year ahead, he would need the goddess help if he were to make it though the year.

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Lord Eros Anphedite
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Re: Year 1200 B.R. : The Marian Coronation

Post by Lord Eros Anphedite » Thu Aug 01, 2019 7:44 pm

In the year 1200 B.R. at the Flavian Amphitheater, Regillum Palace, in the Eternal Capital of the Empire of Mare Nostrum, Rome.

Eros was amazed by the beautiful amphitheater where the coronation procession occurred, with decorations that made the ambiance of the occasion much more regal. He took notice of the plebeians who were dressed in their earth-colored garbs that greatly contrasted them from the patricians' white togas that somewhat illuminated the room in their own way. When the procession was over, the Emperor and his imperial entourage left the amphitheater. He noticed some governors follow along with the entourage, and the governor considered joining them, but he decided against it, and waited a few minutes. He was new to the imperial scene, and he didn't want to overstep his boundaries. He didn't want to stir situations up here, or at home, in Thrace. The Anphedite name had gained political power not only in Thrace, but other regions of the Empire as well, giving Eros both friends in every corner of Mare Nostrum, and also enemies. Ever since his family had earned Eros the title of governor of Thrace through unconventional methods, some revered the cleverness of the Anphedite family, and some despised the corrupt manipulation of it.

When the decided time came, Eros made his way to Regillum Palace, and into the throne room where the Emperor was expected to be sitting, and indeed he was. Emperor Lucius slouched in his highly decorated throne, and had the Triumvirate standing beside him in an almost protective manner.

"Proconsul Eros Anphedite!" barked the announcer to the Emperor and his Triumvirate. When the surname Anphedite was mentioned, the Legatus Prefect flinched and glared at Eros, clearly recognizing the last name that was immediately correlated with dark intentions. The Emperor's facial expression remained unchanged. Eros kept his posture straight and regal, as he bowed in respect to Emperor Lucius. He could almost feel the Emperor and his Triumvirate's stares beat down on him as he lifted himself back up. The Emperor's family and the Anphedite family always seemed to quarrel on regional affairs, and not often would they agree on any matter, and a sharp divide seemed to deepen between them over time. They used to work quite well together, especially in the Balkan region expanding Imperial influence through word and force. But those times were gone, and camaraderie was replaced with mistrust.

"I personally would like to express my condolences for the sudden and unfortunate death of your father. I hope that you will carry on his legacy, and through it, create your own. Our Empire has always been stronger when our Emperor is strong, and I believe that our Empire will be more than strong." Eros peeked over his shoulder to signal in his servants to bring in a large array of roses, directly from Thrace.

"These are the roses that have been specially handpicked for you in Thrace. We made sure that every petal, every leaf, and every thorn was specially trimmed to perfection. Let this symbolize a cooperation between the people of Thrace and the entirety of our great Empire."
Lord Eros Anphedite
Former Senatorial Prefect
Former Legatus Prefect
Tribune of Regional Affairs
Councilor of the Populares

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