Gerakoulia, Theme of the Archipelago 12 May 2019 Located off of the coast of the Pelasgian mainland and far enough away from any inhabited isle of the Archipelago that a marooned person could not swim there, Gerakoulia (known to foreign sailors since Tiburan times as "Falconera") stood as a deserted and dry rock creeping out from the otherwise crystalline waters of the azure main that formed the Long Sea. Its only natural inhabitants were the predatory seabirds that gave it its name in both Pelasgian and the Tiburan-derived languages, and it boasted little if any flora. The sand that covered its shores was rather reddish, owing to a strong presence of copper elements in its composition, and ships and people generally tended to avoid it. The greatest monuments Gerakoulia could boast of were the shipwrecks surrounding its water, some so ancient that but a few pieces of their timber frame remained, and others more recent; some where the product of nature, others of human negligence, and others bore the impact holes of torpedoes, from as recently as the mid 20th century. The sea bottom surrounding Gerakoulia was an ossuary of sorts, for it lacked the formalities of a graveyard, though not the human matter commonly present in such places. On Pelasgian maps and naval charts, famed for their emphasis on including even the minutest of isles due to the Pelasgians' own experience with the Archipelago, the isle was clearly marked as the "NAVAL FORTRESS OF GERAKOULIA", in small but red print, signalling its nature as a naval exclusion zone enforced by the Imperial Coast Guard and Navy. Most foreign maps ommitted reference to the isle entirely, due to its little interest to foreigners. For Pelasgians however, and those acquainted with the Long Sea history, Gerakoulia had long stood as a symbol of exile and internal displacement. It had long been the tradition of the seafaring Pelasgians, and the Tiburans after them, to exile unwanted persons to such isles, often called the "Dry Isles of Bitterness" (τῆς Πίκρας τὰ Ξερόνησα) or the "Great Drynesses" (αἱ Μεγάλοι Ξέραι) in Pelasgian tradition. However, unlike its sisters, Gerakoulia could not boast heavily guarded barracks of political prisoners, dissenters and conscientious objectors. History had consigned it to host the other kind of persons the Pelasgians considered fit for internal exile: felons. As dawn broke, the small white barracks buildings covering a relatively flat area on the southwest of the island were lit up. In one of the cells, a lone man lay on his bed, his thin pastel-green bedsheet darkened by the sweat of a warm Pelasgian spring night. The sound of a baton hitting up against the bars of his cell awoke the man, followed by the cry of one of the guards, clad in the grey uniform of the Imperial Port Corps, the Empire's paramilitary maritime police force. «Κατάδικε Υ356! Σὲ θέλω πλυμένον, ξυρισμένον καὶ ἐνδυμένον εἰς 20 λεπτά!» "Convict Y356! I want you showered, shaved and dressed in 20 minutes." Once the order had been barked in mechanical pseudo-Ancient Pelasgian, of the type so much liked by the Empire's security forces, a package containing a new set of clothes, shaving utensils, and a bar of soap was thrown into the room. The man followed the instructions to the letter, and stood silently with his hands behind his back, facing a wall, as the guards entered 20 minutes later. Exiting the firebrick-built barracks, Y356 looked up, above the hill and through the barbed wire and guard-towers, towards the bare, simplified neoclassical building that stood atop the hill: the Command Building of Gerakoulia Naval Fortress, sporting the Imperial Flag from the third floor balcony. The freshly cleaned man walked up the barren hill chained and with two guards flanking him, being escorted to the room whose balcony sported the Imperial flag: the Commander's office. Sitting straight behind a large metallic desk, the Commander opened a beige folder bearing the prisoner's number: Y356. The Commander's pale blue eyes scanned the document calmly, while the prisoner looked enviously but silently at the clean, brand new uniform of the middle-aged man before him. «Εἶσαι κάθε ἄλλο παρὰ εἷς νομοταγῆς πολίτης, Υ356. Βιαιοπραγία κατὰ ἑνὸς ὀργάνου τῆς τάξεως, συχνάζειν κακόφημα ἰδρύματα ἐστιάσεως, ἀσέβια κατὰ δημοσίων ἐορτῶν καὶ φυσικὰ λαθρεμπόριον ναρκωτικῶν... το κακούργημα ποὺ σὲ ὀδήγησε ἐδῶ.» "You could hardly be called a law-abiding citizen, Y356. Assault against an officer of the law, frequenting disreputable establishments, disrespecting public holidays and, of course, smuggling drugs... the felony that landed you here." The Commander motioned the guards towards the door. The two officers saluted and exited the door, waiting outside to be called in again. «Φυσικὰ καὶ πρέπει νὰ μισῇς αὐτὸ τὸ μέρος. Πρέπει νὰ μισῇς κι ἐμένα. Μὰ, ἴνα εἴμεθα εἰλικρινεῖς, καὶ οἱ δύο γνωρίζομεν πὼς σοῦ ἀξίζει νὰ εἶσαι ἐδῶ.» "You must hate this place of course. You must hate me. But truth be told, we both know that you deserve to be here." «Ξέρεις πὼς μπορῶ ἄνετα νὰ σὲ σκοτώσω, τῶρα ποὺ ἔδιωξες τοῦ λακέδες σου.» "You know I can easily kill you, now that you sent away your lackeys." «Τὸ ξέρω. Ἀλλὰ ξέρω καὶ πὼς δὲν θὰ τὸ κάνῃς.» "I know. But I know you won't do it." «Καὶ γιατί;» "Why not?" «Γιατὶ εἶμαι ὁ μόνος ἄνθρωπος ποὺ μπορεῖ νὰ σκοτώσῃ τὸν Υ356... καὶ νὰ ἀναστήσῃ τὸν Θεόδωρο Ἀγνό.» "Because I am the only man who can kill Y356... and resurrect Theodoros Agnos." NB: The events in this RP take place after those in Hail thee Saint George, and take canonical precedence in case of any conflict or lack of clarity.