Realistic or Modern NY Safe Area

[Lord Bradorian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
You locate two of your fireteams dug in behind a collapsed tree and large mound of rocks; despite your decision to make a pronged attack, you had now regrouped fully, and the team which had met the enemy hadn't suffered any due to their isolation. You and your kingsguard take up an overwatching position up a slope behind your other two fireteams, where your machine gunner digs in, and begins sending hate in the direction which the other shooters are facing. This gun was stolen many months ago from a sleeping Armoury patrol - the SAW blasts lead into the trees, into the darkness, making all other guns being fired sound like toys. The other soldiers of the two strike teams are now holding fire - the machine gun is more than adequate to gain fire superiority. The woodsmen are woefully outgunned, so it is deemed better to conserve ammunition.

One of the leaders of the fireteams comes to you, holding an IAR-28 battle rifle equipped with a suppressor and tactical flashlight, which he uses instead of a headtorch. He informs you that the fireteam which encountered the enemy begun using hunter-killer tactics to silently dispatch them, but were shortly detected and their position fixed, resulting in open battle. "Sir, we believe we're engaging an enemy hamlet. Permission to use explosives, sir?" Your men are equipped with pipe bombs and molotov cocktails.

"Perhaps we should offer them a chance to surrender, sire? We're firing on women and children..." One of your knights asks you with displeasure.

"Savages," Your gunner states briefly and succinctly, illustrating his lack of empathy for the dependents caught in his crossfire, deemed guilty by association, before letting another burst of 6.8mm go.

You vaguely see what he's firing at, and it does appear to be a hamlet. Your men have thrown six chemlights into the area, and illuminate parts of the target, though most have fallen short. About one-hundred and fifty meters out, torchlights dance spastically, while several lie on the ground, and you see the muzzle flashes of return fire - promptly, you hear the impact of a round striking the log your platoon hides behind. You see many silhouettes, some feminine and some small, rushing around in the darkness, clearly not fighting - you guess their non-combatants are packing up to beat a hasty rereat.

 

[Obsidian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
You locate two of your fireteams dug in behind a collapsed tree and large mound of rocks; despite your decision to make a pronged attack, you had now regrouped fully, and the team which had met the enemy hadn't suffered any due to their isolation. You and your kingsguard take up an overwatching position up a slope behind your other two fireteams, where your machine gunner digs in, and begins sending hate in the direction which the other shooters are facing. This gun was stolen many months ago from a sleeping Armoury patrol - the SAW blasts lead into the trees, into the darkness, making all other guns being fired sound like toys. The other soldiers of the two strike teams are now holding fire - the machine gun is more than adequate to gain fire superiority. The woodsmen are woefully outgunned, so it is deemed better to conserve ammunition.

One of the leaders of the fireteams comes to you, holding an IAR-28 battle rifle equipped with a suppressor and tactical flashlight, which he uses instead of a headtorch. He informs you that the fireteam which encountered the enemy begun using hunter-killer tactics to silently dispatch them, but were shortly detected and their position fixed, resulting in open battle. "Sir, we believe we're engaging an enemy hamlet. Permission to use explosives, sir?" Your men are equipped with pipe bombs and molotov cocktails.

"Perhaps we should offer them a chance to surrender, sire? We're firing on women and children..." One of your knights asks you with displeasure.

"Savages," Your gunner states briefly and succinctly, illustrating his lack of empathy for the dependents caught in his crossfire, deemed guilty by association, before letting another burst of 6.8mm go.

You vaguely see what he's firing at, and it does appear to be a hamlet. Your men have thrown six chemlights into the area, and illuminate parts of the target, though most have fallen short. About one-hundred and fifty meters out, torchlights dance spastically, while several lie on the ground, and you see the muzzle flashes of return fire - promptly, you hear the impact of a round striking the log your platoon hides behind. You see many silhouettes, some feminine and some small, rushing around in the darkness, clearly not fighting - you guess their non-combatants are packing up to beat a hasty rereat.

"The Will of the Lord is clear," The Herald tells his troops. "We shall offer the hamlet one final chance to surrender. If they accept, move in and disarm every last one of them, and make a full accounting of the populace and their resources. If they refuse, level the hamlet and eliminate any further resistance. And surround the hamlet, do not allow the enemy to escape. We will not allow them to become another problem for another time."

"As this matter was your suggestion," The Herald turns to the unwitting volunteer. "It shall be your task to offer the terms of surrender to the Hamlet. Which is to say, they are to surrender unconditionally. Go with the Lord's Grace and protection, and see his Will done."

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
Your soldier nods, and orders your SAW Gunner to cease fire, who begrudgingly obeys. As all of your men's guns fall silent, so does the enemy's.

The militiaman whom had wished to ask for a surrender moves up, covering halfway the distance between yourself and the hamlet, before calling out.

"Lay down your weapons, and surrender! Or you will all be killed!" He shouts out, to no response. Some thirty seconds later, he shouts again. "We have you outgunned and outnumbered! Give it up, or die like dogs!" This message seems to get through to the woodsmen.

"Alright! Alright! We're through!" A man with a thick Scottish accent shouts back in return to your knight. "Through!?" Your knight questions in retort. "We're through! Yes! Done! We give up, you fucks!" The man answers. "Show some respect! You're in the presence of our Herald!" The man responds in anger. "Herald of piss and shit!" A woman from the hamlet screams out. "Everyone on the ground!" Your soldiers command, as your troops move forward to disarm the woodsfolk. They are all now standing out in the open, without weapons raised, and though indignant, have surrendered to you. You count twelve men, eight women, and three children, along with five dead men and two dead women, amongst them.

 

[AlwaysCrashing]

On the Matter of the Apostates

Amaruna leans back in his throne and presses his index fingers together as he carefully considers his next words. “During the initial phases of our blessed Congregation Rāhula used to enrapture devotees by pontificating about his many visits to the far-off land of India. One particular anecdote that always stood out to me concerned farmers and how they protected their fields. You see in this lost land monkeys were extremely plentiful and were considered vermin by those than ran the local fruit plantations; they would sneak into the farmers' fields and gorge themselves on the fruit, they were especially fond of bananas. Once the pests found a supply of food, they were almost impossible to get rid of…almost being the key word here. Monkeys unlike birds were too smart for rudimentary traps or scarecrows; too smart for their own good if you ask me. The only effective deterrent the farmers found was to string up the fresh carcass of a banana-thieving monkey in their fields as a clear warning to other would-be transgressors. This kept the monkeys away. One could say Gaganna and his ilk are much like these rather naughty monkeys. Perhaps a stronger deterrent is indeed needed in this case.”

Amaruna claps his hands in glee as a malevolent grin spreads across his face. He then abruptly leans forward. “Yes. Along with the ring, bring me Gaganna’s pompous head on a pike. I wanted to see the look permanently plastered on his stupid face when he finally realized that all his false piety couldn’t save him from Me. I will take great pleasure in stuffing his blasphemous pamphlets into the mouth of his severed head.”

Amaruna chuckles, head down, eyes closed in mirthless laughter. He manages to compose himself, leans back in his throne, and continues. “In this endeavor travel under the guise of the worldly as to not rouse suspicion; adorn yourself with their clothing and move as they move. Once victorious steel your hearts against any pleas for mercy; it is imperative that all the apostates be put to the blade. I can affirm that those amongst your ranks who shed their blood in this endeavor shall all reach the heaven I promised, forever free from the cycle of death and rebirth. Reciprocation between the Satguru and his servants is indeed real.”



When Monsters Call Out the Names of Men

After the conversation with Abdullah has run its course. Amaruna prepares himself for another update by Swami Hiranyaroman on the state of the Safe Area. In a manner similar to how he discussed the Trader’s Den earlier in the day Hiranyaroman, with a bowed head, divulges what he knows about this Sanctuary in a detail-oriented manner, leaving no room for embellishment; the Swami then offers a rather conservative approach to wading into this issue.

Amaruna rhythmically taps his fingers on the armrest of his throne, betraying a hint of impatience. However, the mentioning of a particular name in passing causes him to instinctively clench the armrest. His natural haughty expression gives way to one of anger. “Exactly who did you say allegedly runs this little house of horrors again?” Once Hiranyaroman gave his Satguru the confirmation he was dreading to hear an almost oppressive silence fill the air.

An uncomfortable amount of time passes before Amaruna breaks the dead air “It is indeed sensible to have devotees attempt to preach the Knowledge to these protesters, while also collecting information on this abominable organization. See how māyā corrupts, even a supposed sanctuary harbors monsters. Recoiling from blatant evil is the sign of one who can be directed to the only true path that leads to karmatic cleansing of the spirit. However, these protestors would be best served seeing a family of healthy devotees out preaching My Word; this would reach them on a multitude of levels. The mother and her children should be the focal point of this outreach; it shows those assembled only I can protect what they fear to lose.”

Amaruna would let out an audible sigh before continuing. “As one who observes the darkened world more than I...tell me is that obnoxious strumpet that almost daily lays out their naked ambitions via the radio still prattling about?” He says the following as if the words themselves were distasteful. “This Chairman Draco?” Amaruna snorts in distain. “Has the Constabulary really become utterly supine to his thinly veiled attacks? Why keep this mad dog around?”

 

[Obsidian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
Your knight nods, and orders your SAW Gunner to cease fire, who begrudgingly obeys. As all of your men's guns fall silent, so does the enemy's.

The knight whom had wished to ask for a surrender moves up, covering halfway the distance between yourself and the hamlet, before calling out.

"Lay down your weapons, and surrender! Or you will all be killed!" The Knight shouts out, to no response. Some thirty seconds later, he shouts again. "We have you outgunned and outnumbered! Give it up, or die like dogs!" This message seems to get through to the woodsmen.

"Alright! Alright! We're through!" A man with a thick Scottish accent shouts back in return to your knight. "Through!?" Your knight questions in retort. "We're through! Yes! Done! We give up, you fucks!" The man answers. "Show some respect! You're in the presence of Lord Isiah Holloway!" The Knight responds in anger. "Lord of piss and shit!" A woman from the hamlet screams out. "Everyone on the ground!" Your knight commands, as your troops move forward to disarm the woodsfolk. They are all now standing out in the open, without weapons raised, and though indignant, have surrendered to you. You count twelve men, eight women, and three children, along with five dead men and two dead women, amongst them.

"Sweep the hamlet," the Herald orders one team of his soldiers. "Door to door. Put down any further elements of resistance. Should you find any civilians, bring them to us."

As his troops fan out, the Herald approaches the unarmed prisoners, just as his troops orders them down on their knees. As he approaches, the Herald looks to the man who succeeded in forcing the woodlanders surrender, and smiles.

"Good work," Syprus praises. "Today, you have done the Lord's work."

With that said, the Herald approaches the line of prisoners, and stands before them.

"Now, perhaps you can finally tell me something," the Herald speaks to the prisoners, his words edged with an impatient anger. "My people came to this woodland in search of much needed food and lumber. This is nothing new, we have hunted and logged in this woodland for the past year, all without incident with your people. And then, suddenly, we face aggression upon another visit. All of our attempts to speak to you fell on your deaf ears, forcing us to take these drastic measures you have just endured."

"I ask why?" The Herald asks finally. "What has possibly changed in the last few days to warrant attacking us without cause, and even refusing to speak to us when we came under a banner of peace?"

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
Your men takeover the settlement in minutes. The largest building is a shabbily constructed sweat lodge located in the center of the hamlet, and about two dozen small mudbrick and wooden huts surround it. You can't help but be somewhat impressed at the resourcefulness of these people - living out here all by their lonesome, they'd built lives for themselves. And presumably, this was not the only hamlet of this sort in these woods.

As your soldiers breach into the sweat lodge, two blasts blow through the door, the sounds of shotguns. One of your men is nearly cut in half. One of the shooters is killed, while another is dragged out to you, having been badly beaten during his apprehension. Shortly after being thrown onto the ground at your feet, he loses consciousness. "He only had one shell. Went for the other Indian's gun, so we rushed him," one of the guards involved in the capture explains, providing both a suitable moniker for these Woodsfolk and more signs that these people were not well-armed.

The prisoner whom you speak to looks at you with disgust, and offers you no response. One of your men punches him in the back of the head for his indignant stance, and knocks him onto the ground - having been restrained, he requires assistance back up to his knees. Once back on them, he speaks. This is the man with the Scottish accent.

"What's changed? Well, fucking winter is coming, 'Your Herald.' And we've not seen a fockin' deer in weeks. Meaning, you lot are either drivin' em off, or killin' em off, so our only option is to defend our land," The Scotsman tells you, hate glistening in his eyes. Plainly, these woodsfolk had formed an awful opinion about you very quickly, despite you having thought you had cordial relations with them. You'd even left them gifts in the past. But it is true game has been more scarce, though your hunters have managed to get at least one large animal a week - you suppose these are animals you've been competing with the Woodsfolk for. If they're desperate enough to go to war with you over their hunting grounds, they must be certain they won't survive the winter.

But, why not just migrate elsewhere?

"When Rocker sees this..." One teenage girl amongst the savages begins, before being smacked by one of the woodsman next to her, and shushed aggressively.

Who's Rocker?

 

[Obsidian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
Your men takeover the settlement in minutes. The largest building is a shabbily constructed sweat lodge located in the center of the hamlet, and about two dozen small mudbrick and wooden huts surround it. You can't help but be somewhat impressed at the resourcefulness of these people - living out here all by their lonesome, they'd built lives for themselves. And presumably, this was not the only hamlet of this sort in these woods.

As your soldiers breach into the sweat lodge, two blasts blow through the door, the sounds of shotguns. One of your men is nearly cut in half. One of the shooters is killed, while another is dragged out to you, having been badly beaten during his apprehension. Shortly after being thrown onto the ground at your feet, he loses consciousness. "He only had one shell. Went for the other Indian's gun, so we rushed him," one of the guards involved in the capture explains, providing both a suitable moniker for these Woodsfolk and more signs that these people were not well-armed.

The prisoner whom you speak to looks at you with disgust, and offers you no response. One of your men punches him in the back of the head for his indignant stance, and knocks him onto the ground - having been restrained, he requires assistance back up to his knees. Once back on them, he speaks. This is the man with the Scottish accent.

"What's changed? Well, fucking winter is coming, 'Your Herald.' And we've not seen a fockin' deer in weeks. Meaning, you lot are either drivin' em off, or killin' em off, so our only option is to defend our land," The Scotsman tells you, hate glistening in his eyes. Plainly, these woodsfolk had formed an awful opinion about you very quickly, despite you having thought you had cordial relations with them. You'd even left them gifts in the past. But it is true game has been more scarce, though your hunters have managed to get at least one large animal a week - you suppose these are animals you've been competing with the Woodsfolk for. If they're desperate enough to go to war with you over their hunting grounds, they must be certain they won't survive the winter.

But, why not just migrate elsewhere?

"When Rocker sees this..." One teenage girl amongst the savages begins, before being smacked by one of the woodsman next to her, and shushed aggressively.

Who's Rocker?

"'Defend your land,'" the Herald scoffed. "We have done nothing to the deer in this land. We need them just as much as you do, and if you faced shortages, we could have helped you. If deer were disappearing in the land, we could have helped to investigate. All you had to do was speak with us, and we would have gladly shared what we could to see your people fed and well. Those genuinely in need will always find shelter and succour within our halls. But that is not what you chose. You chose instead to attack us, you have done all you could to do us harm, and if our positions were reversed, I doubt you would have granted me the chance to speak. And you know this."

The young teenager that spoke up drew the Herald's attention, and he turns to her immediately. His men restrain the savage that struck the girl while the Herald approaches her.

"What were you about to say, Child?" Syprus asks, his voice a measure softer with her.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
"This IS our land!" the prisoner exclaims. "I lived in these woods even before the bombs! We've been fine all this time until you lot have damn near starved us out! You and the rest! We don't want your fuckin' hand-outs, we want you to piss off!" he shouts. None of the other prisoners say anything, but they look to him approvingly - he echoes their sentiments, though they are not brave enough to speak them in kind. An older man of the hamlet places a hand on his shoulder - he was not restrained by your men, nor were others deemed not a physical threat. The old man whispers to the Scotsman, and his seething begins to erode instantaneously.

As you approach the girl, your men grabbing up the man whom had silenced her, she gives you no reply. Only squinting hatefully at you through a river of tears. "Gah!" she exclaims fretfully, losing composure under your glance, despite your attempts to soften your demeanor.

"Let her alone," the old man whom had calmed the Scotsman croaks. "She speaks only what is true. You are all dead men walking," he adds. His tone carries no malice, and does not come off as doomsaying - it comes off as a warning.

"Hear hear! Hear our Elder! Dead men walking!" A new voice calls, that of an overweight Asian man who had been using a crafted crossbow to return fire at your militia during the short exchange.

Several other prisoners exclaim that you are, in fact, dead men walking, and burst into laughter. These people are unhinged!

"What, you think your bush wookie pals are gonna come n' get us? All they'll get is a mass grave. Right next to you all..." One of your soldiers threatens the Scotsman, putting a knife to his throat. This is not...gentlemanly behavior. You are not here to terrorize these people.

"Walsh, stop, man," one of your soldiers says meekly. Several of the others look on, some with disapproving looks, others approving. It seems it will be up to you to correct this.

Torturing the captured marauder, and now taunting an unarmed, restrained man with a knife at his neck. Something needs to be done. Some of those of your commune whom take it upon themselves to commit what violence is necessary to safeguard the progress of the Reformation have clearly begun to revel in it, and thus, risk turning their backs on it altogether.

 

[Obsidian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
"This IS our land!" the prisoner exclaims. "I lived in these woods even before the bombs! We've been fine all this time until you lot have damn near starved us out! You and the rest! We don't want your fuckin' hand-outs, we want you to piss off!" he shouts. None of the other prisoners say anything, but they look to him approvingly - he echoes their sentiments, though they are not brave enough to speak them in kind. An older man of the hamlet places a hand on his shoulder - he was not restrained by your men, nor were others deemed not a physical threat. The old man whispers to the Scotsman, and his seething begins to erode instantaneously.

As you approach the girl, your men grabbing up the man whom had silenced her, she gives you no reply. Only squinting hatefully at you through a river of tears. "Gah!" she exclaims fretfully, losing composure under your glance, despite your attempts to soften your demeanor.

"Let her alone," the old man whom had calmed the Scotsman croaks. "She speaks only what is true. You are all dead men walking," he adds. His tone carries no malice, and does not come off as doomsaying - it comes off as a warning.

"Hear hear! Hear our Elder! Dead men walking!" A new voice calls, that of an overweight Asian man who had been using a crafted crossbow to return fire at your militia during the short exchange.

Several other prisoners exclaim that you are, in fact, dead men walking, and burst into laughter. These people are unhinged!

"What, you think your bush wookie pals are gonna come n' get us? All they'll get is a mass grave. Right next to you all..." One of your soldiers threatens the Scotsman, putting a knife to his throat. This is not...gentlemanly behavior. You are not here to terrorize these people.

"Walsh, stop, man," one of your soldiers says meekly. Several of the others look on, some with disapproving looks, others approving. It seems it will be up to you to correct this.

Torturing the captured marauder, and now taunting an unarmed, restrained man with a knife at his neck. Something needs to be done. Some of those of your commune whom take it upon themselves to commit what violence is necessary to safeguard the progress of the Reformation have clearly begun to revel in it, and thus, risk turning their backs on it altogether.

Syprus expected to face this problem, though he does not welcome it. The growing anger and lust for cruelty amongst the faithful is not something unexpected, for those that follow the Righteous Path. At times, throughout the history of the Holy Church, such passions were needed and even embraced to ensure that the faithful survived and thrived. These passions are for Syprus to indulge in as well, for as Herald he must embody the living Will of the Lord, in all of His aspects. Exacting righteous fury upon those deserving, upon the corrupt and the wicked and the evil, were acts once celebrated by the Holy Church, and all the faithful. After all, there are no small number of Saints who won their titles through the point of a sword.

Syprus hoped he could resist these impulses, that he could enact the Lord's Will through peaceful means, if not always then at least almost always. But even he embraced the call to battle, far too easily, when anger ran hot through his veins. He thought only of his people, he thought only of their protection. Standing here, facing the woodsmen on their knees, seeing his own soldiers baying for blood. He realises. He realises now, that a part of him wanted this. A part of him even likes it. Seeing Walsh, blade to the savages throat, he is tempted. Tempted to see that throat spill open. But, perhaps there is another way, a better way.

"Walsh, stop!" The Herald commands. "It is the Lord's Will that they be granted their chance to accept His Light, and take the Righteous Path! Do not defy Him!"

"But they will not go unpunished!" The Herald declares, turning to the deranged heretics. "Seeking to raise arms against the Lord's faithful, without reason or cause, is no small matter to go ignored. We must have justice, as is the Lord's Will. And the Lord knows how to enact justice upon heretics and savages! You are all hereby the tributaries of the Reformation. Half of everything this settlement produces from now on is the property of the Reformation, until such a time as the Lord deems His justice done. And the first collection of this tax will be leveraged immediately. Half of everything you have is now ours, except for your weapons. We will be taking all of those!"

"As for your children, they are not to remain here." The Herald adds. "Your children will be returning with us, for their protection and betterment. They will receive the Lord's Light, and learn to accept His Will. In time, should you remain loyal and do the Lord's Work, you may see them again."

Rather than take their food, however, the Herald commands his soldiers to simply have the food destroyed, burned to ash right in front of all the woodsmen, while they watch on powerless. This is a lesson to them. The Lord's people do not take what they do because they need it. They take it to deprive their enemies of it. The woodsmen are starving, or so they claim? Now, they will truly know what it means to starve.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

General
The Trader's Den reopened the next day; however, they notably no longer carry rifles, nor rifle ammunition, and will not trade in such commodities, though the traders and their Nomad guards are still well-equipped with such long-guns. It is clear that the Constabulary and Armory has restricted their doing business with such firepower, and confiscated whatever they had for trading purposes.

The Nomads report having found a...mass grave, while in the Outlands, all the way out by Lyons. Key word, found. They'd moved through the area where it was found before, they approximate the last time having been a month and a half ago - it's out of the way of their normal routes, but they take detours into already looted and scouted, but unsecured, lands for this very reason - though the world may seem dead out there, it's very much alive. They took a detour on a whim, and the god-forsaken stench led them a half a mile to the gravesite. The corpses had decomposed to the point of being unrecognizable, not quite skeletal, thus placing their times of death at least one-and-a-half to two weeks ago, if not longer. So, sometime between a month and a half ago and a week and a half ago, thirty-nine people were buried in a shallow mass grave - so shallow, it had been partly exposed by rain and erosion in just that short time, though the Nomads excavated it for the purposes of looting and information-gathering. All major shooting events are logged and investigated by the Constabulary and the Armory -- two had occurred, one when a group of hunters were ambushed by a large pack of wolves, and another when the hunters from Oswego raided the farmers from Essex' livestock, an act which resulted in a low-intensity range war which Colonel Wells eventually put a stop to, disarming the Oswegans, who now hunt with bow and arrow, and putting a new, more personable, leader in place of the previous.

At the garrison, scouts presumed to be of the marauders seen in the region were spotted surveying the fortifications. In an extended firefight, the snipers killed four soldiers and one militiaman, and only one scout was confirmed dead when the guns went quiet. Another five dead.

Following the sniper attack, more volunteers enlisted at the Garrison. In total, one-hundred soldiers and one-hundred and twenty militiamen man the miles long fortifications. New foxholes, dugouts, bunkers and the like are constructed every day - like a post-apocalyptic Maginot Line.

Dracoberg Crocodile Ashy_OCdesigns
The next days are very busy. Though Chief Tellerman has kept you from being able to seize the fishing industry, for now, there is much to do in preperation for your ascension to chief fishmonger. Your men have been shadowing Bigby, Morgan and Donelson's trawlers out on the water in skiffs, in order to arm yourself with information on their usual routes, and where the fish are most plentiful. Further, your people have lobbied throughout the settlement in support of your play on the fishing industry, and have gathered much support. The general consensus amongst the majority of the people of the Safe Area, is that your idea is promising, but some are distrustful. Having the fishing industry in the hands of one settlement, of one man, would be highly optimal and efficient - but it has been proven time and time again in this harsh world that cooperation in the name of efficiency is not always easy to achieve.

The elders of the village of Ithaca have offered to fully back your play, if you're willing to give Ithaca a status of 'preferred partner,' giving them the first pick of your catch, and guaranteeing Ithaca's access to such fish in the event that there is not enough for everyone.

You have also received a missive from Lord Isiah Holloway, leader of the settlement of New Kingsland, based in Suffolk County, regarding your move on the fishing industry.

“Dearest Chairman Jacob Draco,
Your transmission has caught the attention of New Kingsland and we see the merit in your words. Such death was an absolute waste. Not just of the lives that were lost, but also in the now decreased passing of valuable food resources from the waters of the Tri-State Area.

The Barbarians have already shown themselves at the gates and it would be disastrous to fall from both without and within if it cannot be stopped.

It is as such that I wish to form an alliance with you. I am sure that each of us have valuable resources that we can both share in our endeavors and should things bend a certain way with our valuable government, I already have ways that can help us both.

As this letter is not secured enough, I will not say further about the matter here.

I do hope that you can send a representative to our fine doorsteps of The Kingdom soon enough and that we may begin a fruitful relationship together.

After all, there is plenty of land that we might divide together in pursuit of our goals.

Delightfully yours,
Lord Isiah Holloway.”
​

New Kingsland Trektek
Your soldiers and engineers succeed in fortifying the hill which you had ordered to be taken. It is a commanding position, providing a vantage over a swathe of the Outlands. You have positioned several marksmen here, including the most talented Isabella Powers, and they have taken several shots at supposed Marauders spotted in the wastes. You have not, however, taken any return fire from the position. Colonel Wells himself has sent you a message applauding your taking of the hill, citing it's remarkably defensive location, and asks that he may position his own snipers upon it.

Your scouts sent into the woodlands return with reports of some ferocious gun battle within. While they were scouting, they saw a flare go off into the night sky several miles from where they were. After taking around an hour and a half to reach the location, your scouts found a small collection of thatch-roof huts, surrounding a much larger smokehouse. The smokehouse had been destroyed - the roof was collapsed, as was half of the structure itself, and several corpses were strewn around. However, there were living as well - some were conducting a sort of ceremony for the fallen, while others were digging graves. It appears that someone had just attacked the place - your scouts report having heard machine gun fire, and it is very doubtful that the people of these hamlets possessed these weapons - thus, it is more likely the Constabulary or the Armory attacked this hamlet, for whatever reason. Your scouts withdrew without making contact with the woodsfolk, and presumably, without being spotted by them.

Sacred Heights Obsidian
The next few days pass without problems, and you're able to exact your will unto the hamlet without further resistance. Four children were taken from the hamlet - one mother was beaten by your men after she resisted her child's abduction. The amount of supplies that you receive as tribute from the hamlet is pitiful, but your evaluators assure you that it is indeed half of what they gather. One of your acolytes, Amias, who forms the opposition within your church, begs you to release the woodsfolk of their contract. "These people are already poor, barely scraping by. It is dastardly to demand tribute from people whom can barely feed themselves. We already destroyed their smokehouse..." Amias argues.

The older woman arrives at your commune two days later, and along with her are four other converts. The flock grows.

You are informed by one of your cardinals that the harvest of your grain fields has been particularly bountiful this year. Normally, you pay bakers in Ithaca to turn it to bread. However, there is such excess, that your 'head farmer,' Jebediah Smith, suggests that you could afford to do some trading with the surplus, if you so chose. Otherwise, you will simply have a healthy stockpile for the winter months.

The Sanctuary AlphaBlueWolf
Isaac is grateful for the pumpkin seeds, due to the fact that he has never seen a pumpkin, and is excited to see them grow. You and some of your other staff help him get them into the ground, and the daily obligation to water and take care of them gives Isaac a goal, some structure, and something to work towards, keep himself accountable for. You can tell that it's good for him, and remind yourself to thank James next time you see him.

You receive a very ominous anonymous letter a few days later. It comes at night, shoved under your door.

"The children you shelter are abominations, and your taking after them propogates further spreading of their corruption. You and your's are a threat to everyone in the Safe Area. And, by God, me and my fellows will neutralize that threat. This is your final warning, Amanda - cast the children out, or face our wrath. It will not be picketing and chanting next weekend..."

You keep the contents of the letter to yourself, for now - there isn't a need to worry your staff, and absolutely there is no need to worry the children. You feel relatively safe due to the Constabulary's recent vowing to protect you - however, you think you should report your receiving of the letter, anyway, so that hopefully there will be increased security at your Sanctuary next weekend, ahead of this threatened attack.

New Hope Lazaro1505
You supply the Constabulary with a number of pistol rounds, and decide to go ahead with the shipments in exchange for security, on the condition that should medicine stocks start to run low, you reserve the right to neutralize the standing order at any time. Chief Tellerman agrees to this, and stations a team of six officers at Lennox Hill. Two of them are armed with long-rifles and stationed atop the hospital, while the four others patrol the halls and perimeter along with your own fifteen guards.

You are awoken by the sounds of shots fired within the hospital one night. Immediately roused, you rushed to see what the problem was. After some confused rushing around, you're informed that your guards and the constables apprehended a pair of thieves whom had broken into the hospital, and were in the process of pilfering your medical supplies. This is a common issue - Lennox Hill is a treasure trove of valuable medicines, and you deal with both thieves and con artists pretending to need the drugs in order to then flip it to someone who really does need them for a barter profit on a regular basis. However, it is not often that these incidents resolve with gunfire. However, you learn that the shots weren't actually directed at anyone - one of the Constables had fired warning shots from his handgun upon discovering the thieves. As a result, three bullet holes and a shattered, boarded up, window now decorate one of your storage rooms.

"That asshole fired shots in a goddamn hospital. We have old, sick and wounded here! They're way outta line, and could've killed someone!" shouts Andrew, one of your guards who had been with you the longest. "Screw the shipments. We need them out of here. We can protect ourselves!" he sputters.

"Do not be so hasty," counters your head nurse, Isabella. "Chief Tellerman is a powerful man. Going back on our deal so soon would surely sour our relations. We do not want to be on his bad side, of that I assure you."

Shambala AlwaysCrashing
Your scouts return from the Sanctuary, reporting that around a dozen armed protesters were counted. Also present were a pair of Constables watching from a safe distance, ensuring the protest remained peaceful.

Spoiler: @AlwaysCrashing

One of your scouts took it upon themselves to leave a bomb threat at Amanda's doorstep, demanding that she cast out the mutants. Should she, a few of your people stand ready to abduct the children once they've been banished.

Abdullah returns to you several days later, with only half of the fringers he set out with. "My beloved Satguru, I am sorry, for I have failed you," He tells you, falling to his knees before you. "Gaganna's sect was much more well-armed than we were...our people were slaughtered. However, I shot Gaganna multiple times, and I hope to death his wounds are fatal..." After giving you this report, he begs you to kill him, and release him from his shame of failing to defeat Gaganna.

Your Swamis have little to say about why Chief Tellerman and Colonel Wells allow Draco's misconduct. Though, Swami Hiranyaroman suggests that Jacob has curried much favor within the Safe Area due to various public works his people have constructed and overseen construction of, and his community is also a major player in the trade of luxury goods. Some believe that there is a large hoard of foodstuffs and other goods at Dracoberg, which, if discovered by the Constabulary or Armory, would certaintly be an issue.

 

[AlphaBlueWolf]

Amanda watched on from the floor of the shed as Isaac skipped around the garden, checking the progress of the pumpkin seeds and feeding them their daily helping of water, a small but efficient amount. They'd converted a shed that used to be used to house supplies for the various zoo animals into a gardening shed full of farming supplies and made a nice little space out of the area around it for a garden and farm. It was a good source of food other than the traps they laid out. Sometimes they'd go out onto Lake Ontario for a day worth of fishing. They'd even set up a collection net that they went up to check every once and a while. The kids didn't seem to mind fish, but ever since a field trip to the lake had ended up in tears, she'd learned that water was a no go. They all seemed to be some levels of fussy, cranky, and mood swinging to agitated at the drop of a hat. She'd been trying to ease them into it so that a second lake attempt with them would be better, maybe they'd just never seen a collection of water so big and gotten overwhelmed, but no one touched the kiddy pool she'd made for them. Though baths had gotten much better over the years for the kids she'd gotten used to it, some just hated it and that was never going to change. It was a general consensus with mutants, and she thought it might have something to do with the mutations bringing about irrational fear.

When she'd been an officer, she'd had a case involving human rabies that showed similarities to the mutants, albeit on a much bigger scale. One of her best officer stories involved a kid who had been bitten by a dog with rabies flailing around in a pool and almost drowning despite being the star swimmer on his school's swim team. The case had just been about helping animal control track the stray down, a job from her early years before she'd gotten notoriety, but it spiraled into saving a boy's life before the rabies spread and became untreatable. She'd known the boy was a swimmer and shouldn't be failing around in the pool like his life were in danger. He was terrified and looked to be in physical pain, and she'd seen a similar look in the eyes of the kids when she'd took them out to Lake Ontario. Of course, it wasn't exactly the same. Amanda just thought it was a fear that came along with big bodies of water. Isaac was doing fine with the water in that old, rusted watering can, and the wet mud around him, but the lake was a general no for the kids.

That's why setting up a more immediate food source that they could tend to, while also giving the kids both a vegetarian option and adding greenery to their plates, had ended up being a great decision. And with some time, they'd get to add pumpkins to their meal options. Amanda was ecstatic with ideas ever since she realized they were pumpkins seeds. It was a good natural repellent to Isaac's headaches, another food item, and it could be a lot of fun for the kids. She could show them how to carve faces onto the pumpkins and make jack-o-lanterns with them. Of course, they'd only have them lit up for a little bit before they'd have to cut them up to use for food. You couldn't waste your resources in the apocalypse, but they could have fun with it. A mini-Halloween for kids that never got to experience it, and wouldn't have even if the world hadn't ended, because they would still be feared and hated. But Amanda wouldn't let that bitter thought plague the positives. Isaac would see the pumpkins grow; she would make sure of it.

"Remember, don't go overkill with the water. It's good for them, but good things in big amounts can turn bad fast. Just like how too much food gets you feeling sick, it's the same for plants. Water and sunlight are their food, so you have to measure it out for them so they don't get sick." She reminded Isaac, keeping her voice normal level despite the distance between them. She could see the points of Isaac's ears shift slightly upwards, the way they always did when there was some new sound that came to them that only he could pick up. She didn't have to call over to him, because he could pick up what she was saying from his super hearing. It was also good to be mindful of noise around him, because calling out to him like that could spark the beginnings of another migraine. He turned to her, his expression alight and soaking everything she told him in, and provided a thumb's up to her before he went back to tending the garden.

Her own hand formed a thumb's up where it rested on her knee, before it dropped down to rustle the paper at her side. Amanda turned her loving gaze from Isaac, which hardened to disdain as it looked upon the note she'd woken up to after it had been slipped under her doorstep. It's exactly as she'd feared before. The protests weren't working, so they were prepared to start using violence to get their way. After everything she'd done up until this point, every time she risked her own life to go help a mutant child get out of a dangerous situation, did they really think she was gonna give it up now? Without so much as a fight? They either didn't know her, or they were just plain stupid. Amanda was not giving them up, no matter what happened. The only way these fucks were getting what they wanted is if she were laying cold on the floor dead in a pool of their blood, because if she was going down protecting these kids, she was taking several of these assholes down with her. If the option was death for her, then she'd have it no other way.

Amanda looked back to Isaac before picking herself off the floor, the letter in hand. How could someone be so cruel that they wished to squash such an innocent life? Someone so pure of the current age's filth that they were excited by the simplest things like seeing a pumpkin for the first time. There was a sadness to the purity, the sadness of a kid growing up in a world where things she thought were common in her own childhood were marvels for these children. But she also felt a hope in these kids. If they were nurtured right, given a safe haven, they could grow into the wonderful next generation. And maybe, eventually, the Sanctuary would lose its purpose. That's how she wanted it to happen. The destruction of the Sanctuary coming with advances in society, not the genocide of the innocent. It was her hope that places like the Sanctuary would no longer exist in the future, for the future world would be a safe place for mutants and there didn't have to be a Sanctuary. But one threat wouldn't make her abandon its purpose now.

Amanda told the children and the rest of her staff that she was heading out for supplies. She hated lying and usually tried to avoid it, explaining difficult topics to the kids in ways that would not crush their souls and confiding in her staff about problems as a well-oiled and trusted machine. But this was something that would bring unnecessary stress when she could solve the problem by asking the Constabulary for a raise in protection. They had promised her that she could go to them for these types of problems, and she had evidence that one of those was coming her way, though she had no idea what faction it was from. She didn't even have any idea if the protesters were from a faction, or just an organized group of assholes from all over who agreed on one thing. They hated mutants, and they wanted to be the biggest pains in the asses in the world for Amanda.

She made a mental note to herself to pick up some other seeds for Isaac at the trader's den, preferably something he had never seen before, like pumpkins, so he could be as excited for them to grow as he was now. Mandi was glad it gave him some sense of direction after his stressful first few years of life, and she hoped to nurture and promote that in him. Plus, picking up stuff at the trader's den would make her lie seem like truth.

In reality, Amanda traveled to the Constabulary's headquarters to speak with Tellerman directly for help, rather than passing the message along. The Sanctuary was a humble settlement, not an army. This was a direct threat, a promise that harm would come to all of them if the mutant kids weren't thrown out, something that couldn't be so easily ignored and downplayed as the "peaceful" protests at the outer fence. Amanda asked politely to speak with Chief Tellerman, invoking her name, but affirmed that it was urgent business regarding a threat. Some people knew her from her work before the Sanctuary, and it was starting to get passed around. No one really saw the expert assassin Amanda Bennett anymore. She was a recluse, but now that she was out in the open, trying to talk to the Constabulary, it was starting to raise heads among some of the agents who worked within the Constabulary that recognized her.

 

[Obsidian]

The Reformation



"In the Lord We Trust"

~~~~><~~~~

The confrontation with the Woodsmen will forever change the Reformation. A group once seen as an ally, a friend in these most dark of times, became an enemy in a blink of an eye, without cause nor explanation. With all that is known of the heathens spreading over the land from the west, the Reformation will soon face its own destruction if something is not done. The past year has proven to have been a relative state of peace, all things considered. But that peace is very quickly coming to an end, and the Reformation must be ready.
They must grow. They must change. They must finally embrace their destiny, and the Lord's Will.

The Herald, in the days following his battle against the Woodsmen, instituted a number of changes. The Reformation has so far taken such a name as a symbol of its personal mission, but has done little to truly embrace it. Now, the Reformation will live up to its namesake. The Herald announced the reformation of four of the old Holy Orders of the Lord. These Orders once served the Holy Church, and each personified a virtue held sacred by the Lord. There were once many Orders, but today four Holy Orders have been restored, each Order headed by a newly-appointed Master.

The Order of the Shield, the famed peacekeepers and crusaders of the Lord, is reformed and headed by Master Cain, the heroic gunner who distinguished himself in the battle against the Woodsmen.

The Order of the Word, the venerated scholars and preachers of the Lord, is reformed and headed by Master Job, the skilled diplomat who talked down the Woodsmen into surrendering, saving many lives as a result.

The Order of the Caduceus, the spirited healers and caretakers of the sick and injured, is reformed and headed by Master Amias, whose golden heart and selfless generosity earned him a place where his compassion could do the most good.

The Order of the Sickle, the stalward servants of the Lord, is reformed and headed by Master Jebediah, one of the most diligent and tireless members of the Reformation. Master Jebediah will also be responsible for the newly-conquered Woodsmen, and any further new converts to the Reformation.

Replacing the cardinals as the Herald's advisors, the Masters together reform the Holy Council, with Syprus, as the Herald, enthroned as the new Grandmaster. With the reformation of the four Holy Orders complete, the citizens of Sacred Heights are assigned to the Orders best suited for them. The largest of the Orders is the Order of the Sickle, making up just over half the population, 35 members, or 55 when including the Woodsmen. The Order of the Shield and the Order of the Word make up the next two largest, containing 18 and 8 respectively. The Order of the Caduceus is the smallest, possessing only 4 members.

In time, as the Reformation grows and its needs multiply, so too will further Holy Orders be reformed.

~~~~><~~~~

The Herald announces Mass within the Cathedral, and all of the faithful are to attend without exception. As the Lord's devouted followers gather in the Cathedral and sit upon the pews, they look to the altar to see that it has changed. The old golden cross is gone, replaced by a new cross, a stark white cross on a field of pure obsidian. A new flag. Once all of the faithful had taken their places, the doors of the Cathedral close, and the Herald steps out from a door behind the altar. Dressed in his all-black military regalia, his people notice the crosses on his uniform, the same white crosses that now hangs over the altar. The Herald stands before his flock, and speaks.

"Brothers and sisters of the Faith, hear me." Syprus begins. "Today marks our first anniversary since the founding of Sacred Heights, and of the Reformation. It has not been an easy year for any of us. We have been tested most thoroughly by our Lord, lost and won much throughout our day to day struggles. But all we have wrought surrounds us today. Our homes. Our families. Our friends. Despite all our hardships, we yet remain, we have grown, and we have become stronger with each hardship we have overcome. All is as our Lord has Willed."

"But we cannot rest on our laurels. At this very moment, the forces of wickedness plot and scheme to bring about the desolation of our world for a second time. Over this past year, we have been content to remain here in Albany, to look inwardly toward ourselves and our own struggles. But more and more as of late, threats from beyond our walls grow in strength and number, and we must be ready. We must be ready to turn and face any threat, and fight to defend all we have worked and sacrificed so much to achieve. We are the Reformation. We have been chosen by our Lord to be the bearers of His Light, and it is our sacred duty to spread our Lord's Light until all of our blightened world has returned to the Righteous Path!"

"Brothers and sisters, I must call upon you all once again." The Herald speaks. "I must call upon your strength, your wisdom, and your resilience to see us all through the dark storms ahead of us. I cannot promise you ease, comfort, or luxury. We will all face greater tests of strength and faith more than we have ever endured before. But together, as Brothers and Sisters standing shoulder to shoulder, we will face and overcome anything that may befall us! We are the Lord's Chosen, we do the Lord's Work, and it is His Will that we shall prevail!"

~~~~><~~~~

Master Amias. The man has a kind soul, perhaps even too kind for this world. It is easy to condemn the actions of others when you have no need to commit them yourself. It was never the Lord's Will to see Amias as a holy warrior. Never would it be his place to dispense justice upon the wicked and the corrupt. Nor would Amias be held responsible should Syprus show mercy to a people that would soon betray it. But the Lord did not send Amias to Syprus to be a true obsticle, instead he is a test. A test of patience. A test of faith. And a test of virtue.

"Master Amias, the Woodsmen brought armed conflict to our people, and did so without word nor reason. When we tried to talk to them, they spat upon our efforts of peace and tried to kill our fellows, forcing us to defend ourselves. Even now, after we defeated them in battle, they still refuse to give us any reasonable explanation for why they wanted to kill us." The Herald explains. "This behaviour is entirely unacceptable, Amias. Poverty is no excuse for multiple attempted murders, nor does poverty mean we show them leniency. What do you suppose they would have done if it were not our people they encountered, but defenceless travellers who just so happened to have wandered into the woodlands? The Woodsmen are dangerous. Is it right to simply let them gun down anyone they please just because they happened to cross their path?"

"Whether you like it or not, Amias, the Woodsmen must endure their punishment." The Herald affirms. "At least they are alive, and thus have the chance to redeem themselves. When they learn to use their words first, and their weapons last; when they show contrition, and embrace our Lord, then and only then will their punishment be lifted."

~~~~><~~~~

Actions

~~~~><~~~~

In light of the Chairman's shameless power grab over the fishing industry, and the current troubles with the deer population, the Herald has determined it a priority to secure a reliable, long-term source of food for the Reformation. Albany has surrounding it a plentitude of farmland, some of which has been successfully farmed to the point of surplus, but the Herald wishes to expand operations further and continually generate surplus indefinitely. The Herald asks Master Job to go to the Safe Zones to speak with both the Village and the Nomads, offering the young and the brave the opportunity to settle in the lands of Albany in exchange for working the land and providing food to the Reformation.

~~~~><~~~~

While one Woodsmen hamlet has been subdued, the Herald will not leave a job half finished. Master Cain is tasked with hunting down the remainder of the Woodsmen with his crusaders, and bringing any further resistence to an end. Cain is cautioned to take the Woodsmen alive if possible, and capture any of their settlements intact. But, should the Woodsmen refuse to surrender, then Cain is to do as the Lord guides him. If Cain or his crusaders learn anything further about the Woodsmen or this 'Rocker,' they are to inform the Herald.

~~~~><~~~~

With the terrible productivity of the Woodsmen settlement, the Herald wishes to see this matter rectified. The Herald tasks Master Jebediah to go to the Woodsmen settlement, accompanied by the Reformation's best hunter and best lumberjack, and together they are to train the Woodsmen into improving their hunting and logging operations. Jebediah is also tasked by the Herald to plan for further development in the Woodsmen settlement while he is there, including rebuilding the smokehouse, building carcoal pits, and building a sawmill.

~~~~><~~~~

With greater conflicts on the horizon, and the coming Winter, the Herald has decided that Sacred Heights is to have its first hospice. They have an infirmary, such as it is, but the nuns are largely untrained in the field of medicine and make use of limited materials and rudamentary tools. In light of this, the Herald has asked Master Amias to go to the Safe Zones and speak with Dr James Gunderson, asking the good doctor to provide assistance in the form of guidance and medical training in the proper running of a hospice.​

Spoiler: GM only

"Should you find that the good doctor is unwilling to help us without incentive, give him this letter." The Herald bids, handing to Amias an enveloped closed with a wax seal bearing the mark of the Restoration. "It will illuminate the doctor on our future plans, and that he would have a share of the claim should he agree to help us. I wish we did not need to provide incentives to compell others to help those truly needy and deserving, but these are the wretched times we live in. I am counting on you to secure his support, Master Amias. May the Lord grant you His guidance."

The letter reads as follows:

Dear Dr Gunderson,

As you have been informed, the Reformation has need of a hospice in our settlement of Sacred Heights, a place of healing for the sick and the injured in times of need. My people, while possessing the wish and will to do good, can only do so much through wish and will alone. We have no one formally trained in the arts of healing as you do, nor do we understand the intricacies of running a place of healing. We therefore humbly ask if you would help us, guide us, and provide us with the knowledge we need to medically fight for the lives of others.

But we understand that these dark times are hard on us all, and asking another for a service without payment is not an option for many. We have made plans for a hospice for some time now, and have already made some preparation in securing needed materials for our hospice. From consulting old maps of the state, and understanding the limits of the Nomads and their own scavenging operations, we have determined that a hospital, Lewis County General Hospital, has so far gone untouched. We aim to send an expeditionary force to the hospital, and lay claim to what remains inside. For helping us, you may also lay claim to what you wish, after our own needs have been met. We advise that you send one of your people, someone trustworthy and knowledgeable, to join the expeditionary force to help guide us, should there be anything specific you may wish from the hospital.

Should you agree to help us, please let the carrier of this letter, Master Amias, know of your wishes, and provide him with the persons you shall grant us. Know that your people will receive only the very best in our hospitality, and will be protected with our very lives at all times. And, of course, know that you will always have our gratitude in helping us. Saving the lives of others is one of the highest and most noble of pursuits, and is one of the greatest expressions of devotion to the Lord.

Know that you and your people will always be welcome among us, and we will always do what we can to help you should you ever have a need of us.

Yours Most Faithfully,

Syprus Hayes
Grandmaster of the Reformation

~~~~><~~~~

As for the Herald himself, the battle with the Woodsmen has highlighted the need for greater security, and thus the need to expand the Order of the Shield. The Herald asks for volunteers from amongst his flock to join the Order of the Shield, and he proceeds to personally train these new recruits. Fully training soldiers takes months, as Syprus is all too aware, but the work starts now.​

 

[AlwaysCrashing]

Spoiler: GM Only

When it is brought to his attention Amaruna would not expressly approve or disapprove of the plan. He covertly conveys to those involved the importance of not bringing suspicion upon Shambala. Those that are involved are urged to dress in a manner similar to those that are known to often frequent the protests.

On the Matter of the Apostates

Amaruna sat on his throne absent-mindedly swirling the contents of his ornate glass as he listened to Dr. Dhanvantari once again endlessly prattle on about his long and storied career as a physician. After enduring a few agonizing minutes of this one-sided conversation Amaruna noticed a trusted attendant approaching; the servant covertly informed him that what remained of the Fringers warband had returned to Shambala and Abdullah sought an audience. Amaruna dismissed not only the servant with a wave of his hand, but all those assembled at the moment; the Perfect Master made it readily apparent that he should not be disturbed for the time being. Dr. Dhanvantari continues his prattling to anyone unlucky enough to be within earshot as he departs.

After Abdullah is ushered in, he immediately falls upon his knees in supplication to his Living God; however, Amaruna could immediately tell by his subordinate’s body language that Abdullah would not be delivering a positive report. Amaruna furrows his brow, and his eyes narrow into a steely gaze as he absorbs the weight of the testimony presented to him. Amaruna's internally grapples with the implications of the failed attempt; a proverbial maelstrom of emotions churns within him threatening to break his composure. He abruptly rises from his throne and walks down the tiered platforms until he is standing directly above his underling.

“You and those remaining under your stead do not have my permission to die. While it is regrettable that the hive of apostasy remains, I would not label your actions a failure. This is but a setback, a mere stumbling block on the path I have set; in fact I was not unaware of this possibility. The forces of māyā will undoubtedly strike against Shambala; you and those others spared from death will undoubtedly play an important role in this coming ordeal. I foresee you will be granted your redemption on the field of battle. However, in the meantime a united front is paramount, and I need those on the fringes to commit to pursue timely integration into the community; currently practiced traditions and vices that run contrary to established teachings need to be discarded. Faith and submission are not easy tasks as they require the nullification of the ego, but hardship is often the price for the chance to achieve the highest perfection. Gaganna's persistence will not break m…us. I urge you to reflect upon my words, mediate deeply on them.” Returning to a seated position, he dismisses Abdullah.



Controlling the Narrative

A fleeting time later he summons Swami Dhanañjaya to discuss the recent turn of events. As much as Amaruna personally detested the fat little weasel, one could not deny that the man had his uses. He had a knack for spinning events to suit the favor of the congregation. Unlike others Amaruna was readily aware that Dhanañjaya’s loyalty was conditional, should the proverbial winds shift directions it would not surprise Satguru if the portly man would once again attempt to curry favor with Gaganna. However, he had ways of keeping Dhanañjaya in line. Also by systematically publicly outing his former friends, compatriots, and family that remained at Shambala as subversive elements in show trials that lead to their deaths Dhanañjaya intrinsically tied his fate to that of the Eternal Bliss Congregation; a man who send his long suffering wife to the gallows would be a pariah elsewhere.

He asks Dhanañjaya to use any means at his disposal to ensure the narrative that Gagana attacked a peaceful delegation was spread across the Safe Zone.


A God Am I?

Even after retiring to the private seclusion of his chambers, this recent failure continued gnawing at Amaruna, a reminder of the vulnerability he rarely acknowledged. Faint whispers of doubt clawed at the very edges of his consciousness. Unable to ease his troubled mind, he paced the room, his steps echoing the turmoil within him. As he walked, his fingers no longer steepled with serene contemplation but twitched with restless agitation.

After catching a glimpse of himself illuminated by the dim candlelight in nearby mirror for the briefest of moments, he was no longer Lord of the Universe or the Perfect Master; he was not even Amaruna. He was once again just Dorian Rutherford, just a mere man elevated by happenstance. He did not particularly care for these interludes of confliction, no not one little bit. Resisting the urge to shatter the mirror into unknowable shards of glass, Amaruna instead rings a small bell to summon one of his numerous attendants.

 

[Crocodile]

Chairman Draco pondered events even as his little gambit was in play. They had rebuffed his offer of support, refusing to take more guns with hands to wield them which confirmed their intent to control and ration. He pondered another radio talk, but for now wanted the fishing needs to simmer and swell. Bigby, Morgan and Donelson were his main concern, so he went to work having the Committee of Public Safety start monitoring them, looking for what was needed to defang the fishermen. Violence was likely to happen, so alliance were needed as he moved to secure more control and authority.

A discreet confirmation of the terms with Ithaca were sent, something one could take as such but could be spun as something else if Ithaca was playing games with him and trying to damage his reputaiton. Then the letter from this Lord Isaiah Holloway. Another amusing consideration, but in all honesty he needed every ally he could get. A ranking member of the Committee was dispatched to New Kingsland with response. An agreement to alliance and the capacity to negotiate terms to better secure that alliance. The Safe Zone needed order and the fish crisis was the start for the Chairman to wedge himself in more deeply to public affairs.

Even as that was in play, Chairman Draco would see which of the three fishing groups he could peel off and merge into his efforts. Who was that rat that would jump ship to retain something of theirs and the potential for longer term gains?