Ashkelon
Establishing Nation
Dolsk, Orazvocziema Republic, South Eastern Upper Swiecziema
The man hushed his wife and child into the corner as he tucked the manifesto under the dead ash in the fireplace and blew out the candle. As a border village, Dolsk was situated in that little grey zone where two ideas clashed. However it was pretty clear which side Dolsk was on. It was once in a province of the Swieczieman Imperium, until a little over a generation ago, when the Mezhists kicked out the Imperial Family and established a new order...
Of course the precursor to this new order was much older, writings that had been influencing the populace of the Imperium at large for nearly a hundred years now. Dolsk, being further from the heart, was only slightly affected, and overall had more leanings towards the other idea, the one from across the border.
"They'll be here again soon..."
The man pushed his family down under the floorboards, in the hope that he could hide them.
"Papa, I'm scared."
"Don't be. I will make them go away." He replaced the floorboards and climbed into the bed, just as the sound of a motor vehicle pulled up to the front door.
The engine stopped, and heavy footprints made their way close by. After a pause that felt like forever, there was finally a slow, rhythmic knock on the door. From under the covers, the man peered out at the window. Another knock, just as slow and rhythmic as the last one.
They weren't going away.
Mustering every ounce of courage he had left, the man sat up in bed and nervously walked to the door. A third knocking. No different from the first two. There was something different about these people from those who had come before. It was far more patient... usually, they would start banging by the second time.
Swallowing a lump, he slowly removed the wooden block lying in the way and pulled the door open.
His face went pale at the sight. Of course they were different. Of course they were more patient.
His greatest fear was not having to face those black clad paramilitary agents in the Federal Bureau of Security. This was his greatest fear: a kindly-looking old priest, slightly stooped, receding hair as white as snow, in the dark blue habit of the United Catholic Church. "Good evening, my son. Am I disturbing your rest? If so, then please accept my humble apologies." The old man said this with such a warm, sunny smile. As one should expect from a member of the clergy.
The man was however, distracted by how the priest was nevertheless accompanied by a pair FBS Agents who towered over the clergyman and himself.
"O... of course not, Father!" he lied. "There is always time for a Servant of the Almighty."
"Then, may we be allowed entry into your home?" The priest raised a frail old hand to gesture at the house. "There are certain... matters... of urgency that need to be discussed."
The way the question was phrased and how he moved reminded the man of an upier. The irony was of course, not lost on him, considering how this was a clergyman of all people. Understanding that the only way out was to get it over with quickly, so as to avoid suspicion from stalling, he nodded with a renewed conviction.
He stepped aside from the door. "It would be an honour, Father. Please, come in."
When the priest and his posse emerged from the house 15 minutes later, they carried with them two large sacks and a third, smaller one all bound in a certain way. If one looked carefully enough, they would see these sacks squirming. Of course, in this rural darkness, nobody would see that. These sacks were tossed into the back of the truck, and were taken away.
At the next sermon, the Dolsk Parish Priest pointed out how a lack of faith left one vulnerable to the Devil. Perhaps to the possession of demons, or perhaps to simply to the commission of sins worthy of divine punishment. Either a family of three disappeared because they were possessed by demons and fled into the wilderness, or the Almighty Himself decided to mete justice out on them.
Either way, there was now a newly emptied house in Dolsk.
***
OOC: So yeah, props to whoever can figure out what the title refers to. It can't be too hard to figure out, right?
The man hushed his wife and child into the corner as he tucked the manifesto under the dead ash in the fireplace and blew out the candle. As a border village, Dolsk was situated in that little grey zone where two ideas clashed. However it was pretty clear which side Dolsk was on. It was once in a province of the Swieczieman Imperium, until a little over a generation ago, when the Mezhists kicked out the Imperial Family and established a new order...
Of course the precursor to this new order was much older, writings that had been influencing the populace of the Imperium at large for nearly a hundred years now. Dolsk, being further from the heart, was only slightly affected, and overall had more leanings towards the other idea, the one from across the border.
"They'll be here again soon..."
The man pushed his family down under the floorboards, in the hope that he could hide them.
"Papa, I'm scared."
"Don't be. I will make them go away." He replaced the floorboards and climbed into the bed, just as the sound of a motor vehicle pulled up to the front door.
The engine stopped, and heavy footprints made their way close by. After a pause that felt like forever, there was finally a slow, rhythmic knock on the door. From under the covers, the man peered out at the window. Another knock, just as slow and rhythmic as the last one.
They weren't going away.
Mustering every ounce of courage he had left, the man sat up in bed and nervously walked to the door. A third knocking. No different from the first two. There was something different about these people from those who had come before. It was far more patient... usually, they would start banging by the second time.
Swallowing a lump, he slowly removed the wooden block lying in the way and pulled the door open.
His face went pale at the sight. Of course they were different. Of course they were more patient.
His greatest fear was not having to face those black clad paramilitary agents in the Federal Bureau of Security. This was his greatest fear: a kindly-looking old priest, slightly stooped, receding hair as white as snow, in the dark blue habit of the United Catholic Church. "Good evening, my son. Am I disturbing your rest? If so, then please accept my humble apologies." The old man said this with such a warm, sunny smile. As one should expect from a member of the clergy.
The man was however, distracted by how the priest was nevertheless accompanied by a pair FBS Agents who towered over the clergyman and himself.
"O... of course not, Father!" he lied. "There is always time for a Servant of the Almighty."
"Then, may we be allowed entry into your home?" The priest raised a frail old hand to gesture at the house. "There are certain... matters... of urgency that need to be discussed."
The way the question was phrased and how he moved reminded the man of an upier. The irony was of course, not lost on him, considering how this was a clergyman of all people. Understanding that the only way out was to get it over with quickly, so as to avoid suspicion from stalling, he nodded with a renewed conviction.
He stepped aside from the door. "It would be an honour, Father. Please, come in."
When the priest and his posse emerged from the house 15 minutes later, they carried with them two large sacks and a third, smaller one all bound in a certain way. If one looked carefully enough, they would see these sacks squirming. Of course, in this rural darkness, nobody would see that. These sacks were tossed into the back of the truck, and were taken away.
At the next sermon, the Dolsk Parish Priest pointed out how a lack of faith left one vulnerable to the Devil. Perhaps to the possession of demons, or perhaps to simply to the commission of sins worthy of divine punishment. Either a family of three disappeared because they were possessed by demons and fled into the wilderness, or the Almighty Himself decided to mete justice out on them.
Either way, there was now a newly emptied house in Dolsk.
***
OOC: So yeah, props to whoever can figure out what the title refers to. It can't be too hard to figure out, right?