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- Oct 1, 2007
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Papal Chambers
Papal Retreat, Ventali Island
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
Ambition. It pulsed through his veins, feeding his heart, his soul and his brain. It showered his every step; it kept his poise, and instructed his voice. It was the thing that kept him breathing, and wanting to live. Yet, it was useless if it not funneled into right channels, the right ideas, the right solutions. Cardinal Adrian Verga, the man charged with overseeing the Inquisition and maintaining moral law believed, no he knew that when his legacy was written in the dusty pages of history all would proclaim him one of few giants who managed to do just that. After all, up to this point he had done just that.
Few saw the value of running the Inquisition. What man of prestige and power in the Church would forsake the riches and palaces afforded to them as Cardinal of any one of the major cities to run a glorified police operation? Adrian did, and the rewards were bountiful. After morphing the Inquisition into a fearsome tool in his arsenal he had been able to do what many thought impossible: Take down the sitting Pope. Yet, that was the end game first he established a reputation that sent chills down the back of every man and woman in the kingdom. He became a nightmare, his voice a beacon of terrible things to come.
From there it was relatively easily. One did not reach the upper echelon of the Solaris Church through piety and humbleness. One had to be ruthless, ambitious, and devoid of emotional attachment. Yes, Adrian possessed those qualities. But, he was missing one key ingredient: gluttony. There was a reason all the cardinals tipped every scale they stood on. There lust for riches, food and whores knew no bounds. Consumed with the luxuries of their position, they were an easy target for a man who cared nothing for earthly possessions; Adrian cared only about the legend he was weaving.
After exposing Urban II and his convenient pornographic addiction, it took hours to round up the support necessary to assume the Papacy. Of course a few throats had to be stepped on, quite literally, but it was a rather bloodless affair. So, now Cardinal Verga sat in the Retreat he would call his own on the island off the Solaren mainland.
He stared into the red eyes that would his for eternity, the very eyes that adorned the notorious mask of every sitting pope. His fingertips, covered by snow white gloves of the Papal robes gently caressed the armored mask that would become his cage. “Once I put you on my face… Adrian’s gone. Urban IV will be born. It isn’t lost on me you know that when historians write of me they won’t know my face. They’ll only know the same visage of every other Pope no matter their historical significance.”
“Every pitiful creature that has occupied this throne will be attached to my name and my image, how am I to stand alone amongst titans when a five year old won’t be able to tell the difference between me and a God forsaken horror movie villain,” A vicious venom dripping from his voice as he rose and launched his fists at the mask sending it roaring to the ground
The mirror behind it on the desk crumbled upon impact from his furious fists. Dozens of glass shards scattered across the floor. And when Adrian looked down in each shard the Mask and his own face shared the same space, warped into a deformed projection on the broken glass. Fury rose in his throat, “You think this is some kind of sick game!? I –“
The doors swung open, armed guards rushed in, “Your Holiness is everything-“
Adrian’s head snapped two heavily armed members of the Papal Guards, cutting them off mid-sentence with the mere look on his face. The bulging of his eyes subsiding as the seconds passed without a word passing between them. Finally, with a deep breathe a small; slightly unseemly smile crossed his lower face, “Of course. I had simply tripped and fell. There’s nothing to be worried about, I caught myself. Unfortunately the mirror became collateral damage. Would you mind sending for someone to fix it?”
Concern swept across the faces’ of the guards, “Uh… no Sir, not at all. Someone will be here shortly, we can promise you that.”
Adrian bared his teeth in that still uncomfortable grin, “Wonderful. That’ll be all gentleman.”
Although worry found its way into their shared voices with a simple, “Sir” and a deep bow the soldiers excused themselves leaving Adrian and the mask alone.
For several long, cold hard minutes he locked eyes with the devilish machination, “I don’t care what you or anyone has to say. I will be bigger than you and all those who came before. Nothing has stopped me, nor will anything stop me from doing what I require. You will suffer the same fate as those who tried to deny what is owed to me. Do you understand me?”
Nothing came from the mask except the empty stare of those unyielding eyes.
Papal Retreat, Ventali Island
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
Ambition. It pulsed through his veins, feeding his heart, his soul and his brain. It showered his every step; it kept his poise, and instructed his voice. It was the thing that kept him breathing, and wanting to live. Yet, it was useless if it not funneled into right channels, the right ideas, the right solutions. Cardinal Adrian Verga, the man charged with overseeing the Inquisition and maintaining moral law believed, no he knew that when his legacy was written in the dusty pages of history all would proclaim him one of few giants who managed to do just that. After all, up to this point he had done just that.
Few saw the value of running the Inquisition. What man of prestige and power in the Church would forsake the riches and palaces afforded to them as Cardinal of any one of the major cities to run a glorified police operation? Adrian did, and the rewards were bountiful. After morphing the Inquisition into a fearsome tool in his arsenal he had been able to do what many thought impossible: Take down the sitting Pope. Yet, that was the end game first he established a reputation that sent chills down the back of every man and woman in the kingdom. He became a nightmare, his voice a beacon of terrible things to come.
From there it was relatively easily. One did not reach the upper echelon of the Solaris Church through piety and humbleness. One had to be ruthless, ambitious, and devoid of emotional attachment. Yes, Adrian possessed those qualities. But, he was missing one key ingredient: gluttony. There was a reason all the cardinals tipped every scale they stood on. There lust for riches, food and whores knew no bounds. Consumed with the luxuries of their position, they were an easy target for a man who cared nothing for earthly possessions; Adrian cared only about the legend he was weaving.
After exposing Urban II and his convenient pornographic addiction, it took hours to round up the support necessary to assume the Papacy. Of course a few throats had to be stepped on, quite literally, but it was a rather bloodless affair. So, now Cardinal Verga sat in the Retreat he would call his own on the island off the Solaren mainland.
He stared into the red eyes that would his for eternity, the very eyes that adorned the notorious mask of every sitting pope. His fingertips, covered by snow white gloves of the Papal robes gently caressed the armored mask that would become his cage. “Once I put you on my face… Adrian’s gone. Urban IV will be born. It isn’t lost on me you know that when historians write of me they won’t know my face. They’ll only know the same visage of every other Pope no matter their historical significance.”
“Every pitiful creature that has occupied this throne will be attached to my name and my image, how am I to stand alone amongst titans when a five year old won’t be able to tell the difference between me and a God forsaken horror movie villain,” A vicious venom dripping from his voice as he rose and launched his fists at the mask sending it roaring to the ground
The mirror behind it on the desk crumbled upon impact from his furious fists. Dozens of glass shards scattered across the floor. And when Adrian looked down in each shard the Mask and his own face shared the same space, warped into a deformed projection on the broken glass. Fury rose in his throat, “You think this is some kind of sick game!? I –“
The doors swung open, armed guards rushed in, “Your Holiness is everything-“
Adrian’s head snapped two heavily armed members of the Papal Guards, cutting them off mid-sentence with the mere look on his face. The bulging of his eyes subsiding as the seconds passed without a word passing between them. Finally, with a deep breathe a small; slightly unseemly smile crossed his lower face, “Of course. I had simply tripped and fell. There’s nothing to be worried about, I caught myself. Unfortunately the mirror became collateral damage. Would you mind sending for someone to fix it?”
Concern swept across the faces’ of the guards, “Uh… no Sir, not at all. Someone will be here shortly, we can promise you that.”
Adrian bared his teeth in that still uncomfortable grin, “Wonderful. That’ll be all gentleman.”
Although worry found its way into their shared voices with a simple, “Sir” and a deep bow the soldiers excused themselves leaving Adrian and the mask alone.
For several long, cold hard minutes he locked eyes with the devilish machination, “I don’t care what you or anyone has to say. I will be bigger than you and all those who came before. Nothing has stopped me, nor will anything stop me from doing what I require. You will suffer the same fate as those who tried to deny what is owed to me. Do you understand me?”
Nothing came from the mask except the empty stare of those unyielding eyes.