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| Setting the Stage; Miscellaneous Posts Bridging the Gap from One Dedicated RP to Another | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 27 2015, 02:00 AM (344 Views) | |
| Mastropa | Mar 27 2015, 02:00 AM Post #1 |
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis
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The military bands played triumphantly as column after column of Achaian troops marched through the main square of Kerkyra, in front of the Megaron’s towering façade and the temporary stage set up before it in the middle of what would otherwise be the main thoroughfare of the city. Officers and men, all in dress uniforms, marched by to the beat of the upbeat march—one of the few cultural pieces the Achaians could be proud of, though Kerameikos personally wasn’t impressed by it—followed by the rumbling of tanks and APCs, transport trucks and howitzers. Then more men arrived to march by the stage, saluting the anax and his wife as they watched the procession, the logothetai arranged around them to show the unified stance of the Megaron as a whole. They shared space with several prominent presvyteroi, whose salutes were representative of Makaria’s blessing, given freely to men and women who had fought on her behalf against those who refused to accept or accommodate her people’s needs and desires. To either side of these stood the vasileis of the Achaian Council, who had no reason to salute soldiers not fighting under the banners of their tribes, but who nonetheless bore witness to the might of the Achaian people, whose soldiers included some that the anax had drafted from the various tribes as was his right according to the Kerkyra Compact. The vasileis’ expressions varied from solemn appreciation to complete disinterest, but none of them had any reason to attract Kerameikos’s ire through such a pointless exercise as being disrespectful to his soldiers. They would certainly not do so in public, as the rest of the square and the buildings surrounding it were thronged with people celebrating the return of their family and friends from the front lines of Melzae. The last column marched up to the stage half an hour after the first had gone by, but this one, unlike its predecessors, stopped in front of the platform and faced the anax fully. Kerameikos nodded approvingly at its leaders: his own sons, the strategoi Kamatero and Cholargos, and the commander-in-chief of the expedition, General Aigisthos. The three men held their salutes for a long moment after the rest of the men in the column behind them had lowered theirs, and called in unison, “Anax of Makaria’s Achaians, the Shield of the goddess defend you! Her warriors return draped in glory, and present themselves for commendation!” Kerameikos lowered his own salute and answered formulaically, “I see Makaria’s warriors before me, and I shall commend them as the goddess has charged me.” He motioned for his sons and the general to join him on the stage as he looked out over the soldiers and the assembled members of the public behind them, and the television cameras that recorded everything for the evening news. The anax wondered how many of these people were celebrating the victory, and how many were simply celebrating the end of the fighting and the return of their kin; he had to guess that very few of them really cared about the creation of New Peloponnese, or the fate of the people who were set to live there. The anax had already promised that he would do his absolute best to reverse this apathy. Makaria’s Shield did not protect those that would not struggle on her behalf—and regardless of the true devotion of the so-called ‘foreign’ Makarians for whom New Peloponnese had been set aside, all Achaians stood to benefit from the strength of the military and the firm rebuke given to their neighbors across the Sundra Channel, whose vast numbers in terms of manpower alone loomed over the Achaian people as an understated but no less potent threat. “Achaians!” Kerameikos called out. “Less than a week ago, you woke to the news of war. You learned that your family and friends, in service to their people and the nation, had been sent across the sea to do battle on foreign soil, perhaps never to return. There was danger in it, for the soldiers and for the Achaian people, but for us there is always danger. To those who faced it on our behalf, I give the greatest thanks in my power. To those who did not return, I send my prayers to Makaria, so that she may smile on the memory of their sacrifice.” Kerameikos purposely ignored the slight grimaces that passed over the faces of some of the vasileis. The Cult of Makaria advocated the absolute authority of the anax, which the vasileis and their followers had rejected almost as soon as the Peloponnese had come under the control of Vyronas, the first anax. Rejecting Vyronas’s authority meant rejecting the cult, and while some of the tribes had proved more open to outside religious influences over the centuries since, the worship of Makaria was all but banned—especially after previous anakes had used their limited power over the vasileis to construct Makarian temples in territories that accepted them only under duress. But the military was the anax’s to command, and just as the Kerkyra Compact protected the independence of the vasileis, it reciprocated by allowed the anax to collect a number of tribal Achaians for the Peloponnesian military. Upon taking up arms for the Peloponnesian Achaians, every soldier was expected to be a Makarian, and the vasileis could not prevent the anax from using this opportunity to bring as many tribal Achaians into the fold of the cult as possible. It was an age-old resentment, but no attempt to address it could succeed without rewriting the Kerkyra Compact, which was a ‘solution’ that Kerameikos refused to consider. “This was, for most of you, not your first test in battle,” the anax continued. “The Peloponnesians among you have served your tours in the Makarian Expeditionary Forces, remaining battle-ready even as all the Achaians around them go on with their lives in peace. Those of you who have joined us under the auspices of tribal tribute were likewise familiar with martial prowess, given the vigilance of your militias and the security of your borders, facing off against the chaotic wilderness that surrounds us. You were hardened by the rigors of war long before I called on you for this special duty; for that I give thanks to Makaria, for your training and your experience have allowed you to return to us, victorious and alive!” There was a scattered cheer from the watching crowd at this point, though again Kerameikos wondered how many were actually interested in the victory, and how many were only relieved that their relatives had survived. “Your victory has brought glory to the Peloponnese,” the anax continued, “but far more importantly, it has brought security and strength to the Achaian people! No longer do the masses of Melzae stare across the waters at us, waiting for a day when we turn our gaze elsewhere, so that they can swallow us in their millions. No longer will the trade of the world pass through a sea subject to Melzaean capriciousness, avarice, and incompetence. No longer will we grit our teeth in frustration as the international community takes Melzae’s needs and desires into account long before it remembers us. By your hands, soldiers of the Peloponnese, the Achaians’ future is assured!” Kerameikos paused for a moment. He had hesitated to add this to his speech, but if he was honest, being mute on the matter wouldn’t make anyone forget about it. And as much as the general populace of the Peloponnese felt only hostility toward those foreign-born Achaians who had shared space with them for the last two generations, their opinion could only be improved at this point, and the anax felt that it was in his interests to improve it as much as possible in order to call on both the Achaian and foreign Makarians should the need arise. As such, he turned his attention to that future he had mentioned. “In place of Melzae’s looming gaze, we have established a new homeland for Makaria’s devoted followers. My grandfather promised long ago that Makaria’s faithful, no matter their place of birth, would have a home under her Shield; but the Peloponnese proved unsuitable for these people, and their homes here have never been happy.” There was some grumbling from the crowd, but Kerameikos ignored it. “But the opportunity has finally come to us, all of us, and by my authority we fully grasped it! Now our fellow Makarians—true Achaians, through their service and their worship—have the home my grandfather promised to them; they shall hold this New Peloponnese as a mark of Makaria’s favor, and as a guard against the Melzaean hordes, whose hold on our new territories remains broken only as long as we remain vigilant against it.” And that, of course, led to the business of governance. Kerameikos allowed his ‘inspirational’ tone to fall away, in order to turn his attention to those drier aspects of the Achaians’ new lands. “To that end,” he continued, “the Office of Military Affairs has already devised and implemented procedures to make New Peloponnese as safe as any place in the Peloponnese itself. During the war, any Melzaean who was discovered by our armed forces was detained until hostilities ceased; now they are being removed from New Peloponnese entirely, and placed back under the authority of Melzae so that they will be with their own people, and more importantly, they will not be among ours.” There were, of course, some exceptions, but that was hardly for public consumption. “The military is acting to ensure the safety not only of those who will live in New Peloponnese, but also the safety of Achaians here at home, whose security now depends on the existence of New Peloponnese as a vital buffer between the Peloponnese and the dangerous influence of Melzae. I have ordered that elements of the Achaian military shall remain in New Peloponnese for as long as any Melzaean threat remains. Nonetheless, we can all expect the troops currently deployed to return home again, as their places are taken up by Makarians living within New Peloponnese who are ready and eager to prove to you all that they, too, are Achaians, worthy of the place under Makaria’s protection that our military has vouchsafed for them.” That was a shot across the bow for most of the people listening, but Kerameikos again ignored any grumbling and continued with barely a pause. “I have selected General Aigisthos, who stands beside me now, to command this military garrison, in light of his accomplishments in bringing our late war to a swift and victorious conclusion. The general will be tasked with the security of New Peloponnese and its people, and by that effort he will maintain the security of all Achaians.” Kerameikos turned to nod at the general, who saluted again. “He shall answer to me as his anax,” Kerameikos continued, “but due to the unique circumstances, I am obliged to designate Strategos Kamatero”—the anax nodded to his son and heir—“to administer New Peloponnese as my representative, and to be invested fully with the powers of the anakate in the territory of New Peloponnese. In this way, the Megaron will guarantee the success of New Peloponnese’s administration, and ensure that no issues or emergencies at home in the Peloponnese will prevent or interrupt the operation of government in these newly-gained territories. “I have required these measures because I know how fragile our gains in New Peloponnese might become, should we fail to protect and nurture them. The government of Melzae failed to provide for its people and its land, and so it failed the one and lost the other. We must not follow in the footsteps of our enemies, or else we will lose our way entirely. We must stand strong and united, all Achaians alike, and face the world as one people under the protection of Makaria’s Shield! In this wider world, only a single people with a united vision can rise above the chaos and prosper. Only when we work together can we succeed.” |
![]() MAKARIA to the Achaian People: Be as Many as the Stars | |
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| Mastropa | Jul 1 2015, 08:10 PM Post #16 |
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis
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Kamatero strode through the empty temple in the white robes of the presvyteroi, his head bowed not in deference or penitence, but in contemplation. The strategos was worried. He had purposely disobeyed his father’s commands, and had furthermore asked a general loyal to the Achaian people to say nothing about it; he had lied to his father, the anax of the Achaians, and while he had bought himself some time, he had also given himself a firm deadline by which the Megaron would expect to see results that Kamatero had no intention of achieving. The anax would no doubt be suspicious already; Kamatero had not hidden his distaste for his father’s orders, and Kerameikos knew that his son would seek out any reason to avoid carrying them out. Kamatero could only pray that his excuses continued to ring true to the anax’s ear, even as he was forced to invent more and more of them as time went on. Coming before the altar, Kamatero lowered himself to his knees, bowing his head even further for a moment before he raised his eyes. The altar remained as it had been since its installation, so very recently in Kamatero’s mind: the candles, the book, and the image, Makaria’s touch freeing the bonds that tied Vyronas to his slavery, while the first Achaian, kneeling as Kamatero did now, gazed up at his goddess with the devotion that can only come from awe and majesty, raising his arms toward her in supplication… and in triumph. Makaria was the liberator and defender of all Achaians, as she had been the liberator and defender of the first, and Vyronas’s worship thereafter set the standard by which all of his progeny would be judged. It was by that standard that the Megaron, the Cult, and the anax of the Achaians measured the foreign-born population of New Peloponnese, and found them all wanting. Kerameikos was not simply impatient, of course. It had taken patience and careful planning for the anax to take New Peloponnese in the first place, to ensure that he could fulfill his grandfather’s promises at the same time that he cleared the Peloponnese of those considered by most Achaians to be less than true. And Kamatero’s experience in New Peloponnese, especially when it came to New Dorian Enterprises, further supported his impression that Kerameikos was willing to play the long game. The anax, through his son, had wrested away NDE’s autonomy and brought it into conformity with all other Achaian corporations, but he had been content to retroactively legalize the immigration of NDE’s foreign-born employees, provided that they acknowledged and followed the laws of the Peloponnese. He had been pleased to instruct the Office of International Political Outreach to seek out additional immigrants in those places threatened by violence or famine, in order to bolster the population of New Peloponnese and improve its viability, despite the lack of devotion and faith that these people were bound to express. By attending Cult services in the temple (built in Marlum in record time by the direct order of the anax), accepting induction into the Achaian military when necessary, and obeying the civil laws that bound all Peloponnesian Achaians together, the people of New Peloponnese had grudgingly entered into the preferred pattern of behavior; and even if, in the privacy of their own minds, they continued to disbelieve or protest the Megaron’s rightful rule, their public deference to the authority of their government ensured Kerameikos’s leniency and contentment. People, after all, were creatures of habit, and the anax knew well that eventually they would cease to complain about those things that they had borne for years without serious distress, while their children, knowing no other life, would see no reason to complain at all. It was with this vision in mind that Kerameikos learned of the attempt by NDE’s employees to circumvent the Cult’s educational authority. The anax’s previous leniency was immediately replaced by a deep-seated fury, partly due to the audacity of those who lived better lives than many native-born Peloponnesian Achaians to claim that they were not content, and partly due to their attack on one of the primary foundations of Achaian culture. Kerameikos had depended on the habits of generations to instill Achaian values into the population of New Peloponnese, starting with the education of the young; the ungrateful foreigners’ decision to undermine that education indicated their desire to raise the next generation in an environment of foreign values and high-minded skepticism, completely contrary to the Achaian way of life. The anax’s fury, coupled with his wife’s priestly convictions and equally-virulent scorn for blasphemers who claimed to worship her goddess while privately despising her, had fuelled his harsh response. He demanded Omonoia’s arrest for her work in illegally bringing foreigners to New Peloponnese, and the deportation of all those who had arrived in that manner. He demanded, in essence, that New Peloponnese start again from a state of nearly-complete depopulation. And with the likely international backlash that such an operation would provoke, Kamatero knew that there would be no way to recover those numbers from abroad… assuming that Kerameikos allowed such immigration to occur at all. Kamatero allowed his eyes to wander from the altar to the ceiling, where the banners of the anakes fluttered in the shifting air. His grandfather’s banner hung directly above him, the most recently deceased and thus the most genuinely mourned, but behind it hung the banner Kamatero sought, that of Anax Koukaki. ‘The Evangelist,’ the banner proclaimed, a reminder of the mocking title given to him by foreign newspapers that Koukaki had taken as his own; for he certainly viewed it as his mission to tell Noverra of Makaria’s great power, to persuade the peoples of every nation to bow down to the goddess’s might, and to draw them to the Peloponnese in order to share in the protection of Makaria’s Shield. Koukaki’s evangelism had been borne of his firm belief that every person who worshiped Makaria should be considered an Achaian, an interpretation that the Megaron held forth to this day. For all that, it was a controversial definition, rejected both by native-born Peloponnesians for allowing ignorant foreigners into the Peloponnese, and by the tribes—and most especially their vasileis, defensive as always of their rights under the Kerkyra Compact—for denying their Achaian heritage due to their rejection of Makarianism. Even the Megaron paid it lip service alone, publicly supporting it only in deference to the authority of an anax, even a dead one. Only Kerameikos had the authority to change that, and thus far he had chosen not to. Even as he supported his grandfather’s words in public, though, Kerameikos’s definition of ‘Achaian’ seemed subtly different to his son. Kerameikos was less interested in public religious observance and much more interested in the overall cultural assimilation of those who lived under the Megaron’s authority. His orders to punish the people of New Peloponnese were based on a legal excuse, but they were only due to the newcomers’ dissatisfaction with Achaian culture and their private attempts to undermine it in an otherwise-legal manner. Kamatero imagined that Anax Koukaki would never have bothered to regulate the private lives of his people in the manner that Kerameikos was now trying to do; but every anax since the unpopular Anassa Glyfada had tied him- or herself closer and closer to the Cult, and the two succeeding generations had clearly decided that private devotion was equal to public expression in its importance to Achaian welfare and the goodwill of Makaria. Kamatero’s eyes lowered from the banners of his forefathers to rest once more on the image on the altar. The artist had rendered Vyronas’s devotion to his protector with exquisite detail, just as the expression of Makaria evoked the sense of maternal love and the promise of a just vengeance against those who would persecute her people. Anyone viewing this image would know just how Anax Vyronas would define the Achaian people. For as the books said, Vyronas was the first Achaian not because of his homeland, and not indeed because he was the spring from which all Achaians could trace their lineage, but because he was the first to worship the goddess who had saved him, and through his efforts the rest of the Peloponnese was called to worship her also. Yet this was the same Vyronas whose Kerkyra Compact delineated the rights of “all Achaian tribes” who had rebelled against the first anax and his goddess. It was by that definition that the anax derived his authority over the tribes outside the Peloponnese, those ‘Achaians’ whose cultures and religions differed greatly from the Peloponnese’s and even from one another. Kamatero was hardly the first to wonder just how much truth was contained in the Cult’s history of the Peloponnese, and of the Achaian people; yet he was, perhaps, the first Achaian leader since Vyronas whose own people, on their own initiative, had decided to seek their own truth as a result. And he was certainly the first of his family to realize with a shock that he wanted to know that truth as badly as the people who were already searching for it. ‘Mother was right,’ Kamatero thought to himself. ‘Foreign ideas really do corrupt the mind.’ But even as he thought this, the strategos found himself staring at the fetters and chains lying at Vyronas’s feet, those instruments of slavery that Makaria herself had broken. From Vyronas emanated a lightness, an aura matched only by the newly free; from Makaria there came that sense of love, but also that stern command, “Be free so that others may follow.” From Vyronas’s freedom had sprung the Achaian people and the anakate. What, then, would spring from the strategos’s newfound freedom in New Peloponnese? |
![]() MAKARIA to the Achaian People: Be as Many as the Stars | |
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| Mastropa | Sep 23 2015, 01:17 AM Post #17 |
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis
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Kamatero took a seat at the conference table in General Aigisthos’s office, acknowledging the salutes of the other officers with nods of his own. The general sat directly across from the stratigos, his frown expressing a deep concern about the current situation as he looked over the reports in front of him. Lower-ranking generals, two admirals, and several colonels were already seated around them; all of them showed signs of stress, but none were quite as fatigued as their superior officer. The stratigos wondered if he showed any such signs himself. The moment the door to his office closed, Aigisthos looked up from his papers and glanced at the various faces sitting around him. “Let’s get right to it, then. Do we have an update on the border situation?” Three generals shook their heads. “There’s been no change, sir,” the one nearest to Kamatero answered. “The Melzaeans are either completely distracted by their own problems or have no interest in attacking us at all. We’re waiting for Observation and Communication to give us further details, but… well, we obviously don’t want to draw their attention to us, either, unless it’s absolutely necessary. We’re confident that the Megaron will pick up any Melzaean plotting without our reminders, anyway.” “The new recruits are less quiet,” the second general grumbled. “I had to remind the whole lot of them that the alternative to serving on the border was being deported beyond it. Some of them get it, but most seem to believe that we’re just taking advantage of them. I’ve had a few ungrateful bastards tell my officers that they might prefer deportation to patrols.” The woman scoffed. “Granted, it depends on where they came from. The Ikarians who came over to teach are furious, of course, but I’ve never heard a complaint from any Bruvalk.” Aigisthos scoffed. “No, I imagine not,” he said. Kamatero cut in. “As long as we’re on the subject, I’d like to have an update on those still living in Marlum. Are the Megaron’s representatives still harassing them?” A colonel on Aigisthos’s side of the table leaned forward. “There has been some trouble, sir,” he admitted, “but hardly enough to report on. Shifting the few remaining women and children into the disused areas of the city seems to have done the trick. The Megaron is apparently under the impression that we’re detaining them in a ghetto neighborhood, and its representatives are satisfied about leaving them there until the new camps are completed. At this point, we can continue stalling indefinitely.” The colonel shrugged. “As long as the residents we’re hiding don’t give themselves away, anyway. The children can be unpredictable.” “Put them in cages if it comes down to it,” growled Kamatero. “I won’t be undone at this stage by the actions of a two-year-old.” He didn’t wait for the other man’s acknowledgment before turning back to General Aigisthos. “I don’t much like the idea of a holding action against the Megaron for any length of time, either. Do we have an endgame that will return the people of Marlum to productivity in short order?” “No,” Aigisthos answered, “or at least, not as long as the Megaron’s agents remain here.” “They won’t leave on their own.” Kamatero shook his head and let his gaze wander to the large window overlooking the city and the sea. “We’ve always known that. I had hoped that we’d have a plan to remove them by now…” The stratigos sneered at the uncomfortable looks several of the officers shared with one another. “Were we waiting for the crisis abroad to spark? Any chance of that is slipping us by. And our Achaian allies are moving already; my father is bound to react to that, putting us all at risk.” He grimaced. “It will only be a matter of time before he knows who rules the Kalymnians now. He’ll know that she escaped from New Peloponnese. He’ll demand to know why. And he’ll want to know first-hand if we’ve missed anything else.” The thought of the Megaron sending even more agents into his domain was enough to make Kamatero ill. One of the admirals picked up on Kamatero’s distress. “Stratigos, we are prepared to sever communications with the Peloponnese at a moment’s notice,” he assured the anax’s son. “Our warships and naval aircraft are on constant alert for any enemy, coming from any direction, including the Astolan. It will be simple to prevent the Megaron’s agents from entering New Peloponnese as long as we have the element of surprise.” “That won’t last long,” the stratigos replied. The admiral nodded. “No, sir,” he agreed, “but at the least we can prevent the Megaron from destroying us from within.” “At least that’s something.” Kamatero nodded back to the admiral, but his gaze was hard as he glanced around the table once again. “But it’s not good enough. Our entire plan depends on the Peloponnese’s distraction. Detaining or executing the Megaron’s agents will ensure that my father’s attention is placed firmly on us. We must ensure that the current crisis sparks before it comes to that, to keep his focus as far away from New Peloponnese as possible.” Aigisthos frowned. “That seems a tall order,” he said, “and I would be wary of sending the Achaian people into a conflict abroad in the hopes of avoiding trouble at home. The last thing we need is to be overwhelmed by an enemy we essentially invited to attack us.” Kamatero nodded slowly. “True enough,” he said. “It will be a challenge to find an opponent capable of distracting the Megaron while not posing any actual risk to it—or to us. But consider the alternative: If we don’t find such an enemy, we’ll become that enemy ourselves. I am confident that you all share my desire to avoid that fate.” A chorus of voices answered fervently, “Yes, sir.” |
![]() MAKARIA to the Achaian People: Be as Many as the Stars | |
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| Mastropa | Nov 4 2015, 01:48 AM Post #18 |
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis
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![]() MAKARIA to the Achaian People: Be as Many as the Stars | |
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