Pax Vampira

[unanun]

Gaius did not move while the two were exiting the chamber, only his eyes swiveling in their sockets to follow them.

"Old druid," He leaned forward, his fingers sending hairline cracks through the marble chair, "To fear, is to be human. To cower, is to be human. Every old story told of heroes always paints a picture of a man who was more than human, a being possessed of unnatural levels of strength, bravery, cunning, and courage." He spread his fingers out, leaving behind indents pressed into the soft marble. "Even now, wise druid, you are one such being, of unnatural longevity, extraordinary wisdom, and talents beyond that which humans could ever hope to acquire. We move towards a war between demigods. We are all monsters."

"But rejoice! For you have met the most humanly person in all of Rome. I am a coward, a beggar, a fool who might still dream of progress in stagnation. I shiver in my coffin, a mere, meek creature who can only hope to do what one can do alone. And in doing so, I am the most human of them all."

He leaned forward, one hand extended, and snapped it closed into a fist.

"The Mundus will be united under Pax Romana. An empire will be forged that will last for millenia ........ and then give way to its next glorious incarnation. And you and I will take the first step."

He fell back against his chair, exhausted.

"The audience is concluded. I will deliver your declaration of war to the Emperor, and you will be executed as a conspirator."

The doors swung open, the guards and Marcella moving in.

For my ambition.

For Rome.

 

[Asmodeus]

ALEXANDRIA​

Cleopatra still held the scroll, its edge seared, its length skewed upwards where the dart has discharged. No trace of the violence had touched her, nor swayed her poise. She regarded the bound messenger like a curiosity, like a child who had made a sudden outburst and left only silence.

From his words, and from the serenity mixed with pain on Marius's features, she discerned the truth of it.

"They offered your family protection..." It was statement, without question. "...in return for striking at me."

The scroll came into both her hands and the Queen regarded it like the rag it was, the useless ink and paper that had been no more than the carriage of a weapon. "I would tell you that I understand. But then again, I never had a family. Your lord saw to that."

She half-turned as the guards tightened their hold on Marius. "My predecessors spent years building pyramids, treating life as but a rehearsal for death, a single long barter in the privileges of posterity. Now Rome follows suit. Your Emperor will not rest till he has convinced the world to forsake the mortal flesh. Someone must draw a line."

She looked towards the window, and Marius knew she would never look on him again. "Someone must stop the death."

A moment's pondering, then she moved away. And all was told in the shoulder she had turned. It was the judgment and the signal.

Marius's time was at an end.

ROME

​

There were few sentences in the Vampire City. Most judges used but one:

Death in the Arena

The Flavian Amphitheater was the foremost execution center in the city. Here rebels, thieves and traitors were dragged into the Colosseum and dispatched for public display. And though all were equally guilty of any number of crimes, the exact punishment was at the discretion of the Master of the Games. Executions were but the opening act - the build-up to the Gladiator contests and chariot races. They were an aside, to get the crowd excited and their blood-lust peaking.

The principle was simple, and as much Roman as Vampiric. In the arena there was hope for escape, however slim. Perhaps by fighting off the gladiators meant to dispatch you; perhaps by defeating the animals sicked upon you, or by the crowd admiring your courage, there might yet be freedom. But this last morsel offering of hope served only to make a victim's demise the sweeter.

The punishments were a sight to behold in and of themselves. At times the draw to these bloody shows were as much the curiosity of what could be thought up next as any real entertainment value from the killing itself. Murder of mechanical wonder... of anatomical sadism...

What Cynrig, messenger of the Barbarians, found himself strapped to that evening was the closest thing to an old favourite. The Seesaw was once a game for feisty children, but had now been turned into an instrument of torment. The old druid was strapped to the seat, and opposite him was another dissident, a Legionnaire who had hidden his daughter from the blood-census officers. Beaten and starved, the soldier seemed as ragged as Cynrig now - a mutual half-shade at the threshold of death.

He was heavier than Cynrig, and with his weight on the Seesaw the druid was lifted high upon the oak beam. Around him seethed the blurred crowd, and the walls of the Colosseum were lit by the burning crucified. A ring of seven Christians, set aflame, would die beside the pagan. For there were but two religions in Rome - that of the Divine Son and that of His enemy.

Soon the cages of the Colosseum would open, and out would come the wild and starving beasts. To a roar of excitement from the crowds, the two prisoners would begin their galloping upon the Seesaw, each one vaulting high to escape the jaws of lions, the horns of bulls, the swipes of baboons, or whatever foul bestiary the Master of Games had devised.

And in time they would tire, and the animals would reach up, and the prisoners would be taken apart piece by piece.

GAUL​

Nabirye had arrived, like an onyx gem among the moss and earth tones. The Egyptian was everything the barbarians were not - silk-wrapped where they were ragged, dark-skinned where they were pale, spice-perfumed where they were musky. Through a gauntlet of stares she crossed the camp with her escort, making warriors rise from campfires, wives cease their washing and children whoop and shout.

She held her course. There was no other way to go but straight towards the tree that bloomed in the centre of the cleared ground, and to the wizened figure beside it whose presence spoke volumes.

In expectant silence she dismounted and kept her chalk-white horse by the reins. The animal shook with a conscious terror but made no effort to defy her. The infusions she had prepared for it would soothe its panic... for now. The same could not be said for herself, however. She had only the wisdom of the desert kin to guide her, and the hope that these wild men had bigger things to kill.

She came down on one knee, robes pooling around her, and averted painted eyes in a low bow.

"I have come to speak with you, Maerlon," Her Germanic was flawless. Nabirye almost surprised herself. "I am Nabirye, Lady of the Reed Pen, Emissary of Cleopatra, Queen of the South, the Divine Isis, She Who Lives Forever, the Bright and Blessed Day, Fist of Ra and Acolyte of Mighty Thoth, Reckoner of Times and Seasons, He Who Balances, Author of All Knowledge, and Creator of All Language."

The declaration brought laughter from some of the hunters, while children took it as some enchanting poetry. Only Maerlon's expression remained unchanged, and when the messenger glanced up she took it as cue to regard him directly.

"Ra smiles on you and your people. Cleopatra bids me extend this offering, with hope that it may be the first of many gifts in our friendship."

She rose, and drew from the horse's saddlebag a trinket wrapped in delicate cloth. With one step towards Maerlon she extended it, and the grey sky glinted from metal. It was a pyramid, carved in miniature, with a base of gold, a band of silver, and a sapphire spire that was blue as the sea she had crossed to get here.

 

[Shadowheart26]

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ALEXANDRIA​

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Not even a second later, Marius felt a giant hand grip his windpipe, cutting off any sound he might make as his feet were lifted up off of the smooth floor. Anubis effortlessly lifted the messenger up, bringing the man's fear-frozen face close to his own.​

​

"Tell your Gods this, Roman," He snarled in a low voice, his glowing eyes meeting the assassin's own, "When Pharoah Cleopatra wages war against your precious Empire, not even those on Mount Olympus will be safe from Egypt's wrath!"​

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And with those final words, he snapped the man's neck, his large black hand making the job effortless. The Atumite guards, without needing orders, took the lifeless body and disappeared with the sound the marble doors scrapping shut behind them.​

​

"Will you have us send them a return message?" Anubis growled quietly, returning to his former bowed position, "I can have a legion of Atumites ready within a half hour."​

​

By these words, both knew what the General was speaking of. What better for a return message than the butchered bodies of the emperor's own demonic puppets?​

​

 

[Denali]

Ophealia made her way back to the palace slowly, silently, walking with the shadows as not to be seen. Many people of this time feared vampires and did her best hide from non vamps. As she approached the palace, passing the Coliseum she could hear and smell the cries of death surrounding her. It brought a smile to her. "Ahh...the kill of a druid, how wonderful. Wonder what his treason was for deserving such fate" she thought to herself as she made her way into the palace's grand foyer.


Dawn was fast approaching, she quickly made her way to her coffin surrounded by dirt. Her coffin was always near the emperor, always ready to strike if danger approaches. She would never let a threat attack the emperor as long as she lived. Taking a deep sigh she climbed into coffin and fell asleep. Good thing is that the Palace had a lot of dark passage ways so no light could harm a vampire. Waiting for the next dawn of twilight to approach.