Papal Palace,
Torrence
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
An excited wind carried the loud hymns of the marching soldiers and the fanatical screaming of loyal subjects into the sleeping quarters of Pope Urban IV, who stood in the middle of the room, his eyes fixated on the ageing painting that dominated the ceiling. It was the scene when God revealed himself in Pope Urban I's dreams and instructed him to burn Tibur's extravagant temples, behead its corrupt clerics and found a new Church in Torrence. The strength of most of the colours had been diminished by time, but the reds of the fire and blood still burned the eyes, branding a painful picture of divine revelation and justice on the imagination and memory.
An entourage of half-clad, young virgins surrounded the Pope, carefully adorning him with pieces of cloth and armour. Only the purest could be in the presence of God's One True Representative on Earth. All had been selected by Urban personally for their virtuousness. Under his guidance and protection, their slender, nubile bodies could not be corrupted or manipulated for malign purposes.
As the last pieces of his magisterial attire were fitted to his own body, Urban began to focus on his mask. This silver mask, with its subtle etchings of the End of Days and unusually perfect features, haunted Europe. He had worn it when he announced the mercy killings of the Nicosian wretches, and he would wear it now when declaring war on the European Defence Federation. The mask was placed delicately into his hands, and he slowly raised it against his face. He then pressed the cold metal down hard, a slight smile creeping across his face as he heard the beads of sweat that had scurried down his face boil atop of his burning flesh.
“Your Incredible Holiness, the faithful await.”
The feeble, quivering female voice was quickly blown away by the wind, which was now howling madly, disturbing the long blue-and-white banners that flowed down the walls of the palace. Saying nothing, the Pope only moved forward, the group of women parting immediately like the seas before Moses, as he stepped towards the balcony outside his room, which faced the Quadrilatero, the largest square in Solaren. Beneath him stood hundreds of soldiers assembled in crucifix-style formations, still singing the battle hymns of the Sacred Kingdom. A slight move of his hand silenced them all.
“Faithful of Europe, as I stand before you, my people, my loyal subjects, thousands more agents of Satan stand across our border, hungering for the flesh of our fair young maidens, desperate for the wealth of our land, yearning for the destruction of our Churches and the murder of our holy men.”
The Pope paused, allowing his heavy words to weigh down on those before him. Behind his mask, he could see the shadowy officers of the Inquisition guiding selected journalists and cameramen from various foreign media outlets. The whole world would learn of the European Defence Federation's evils.
“But I will not allow them to. Just as the brave knights rode out to the desert to combat the dark Mohammedan savages that threatened most holy Jerusalem, so shall you, young Christian men, march to fight the infernal forces of darkness. With lead and steel, you shall do God’s work and send each heretic to the hellfire from whence they came and I shall summon all manner of substance and plague to haunt their families, lest they surrender and repent, and accept me as God’s One True Representative on Earth, Solaris Christianity as the One True Faith, and the Tiburan false Pope as the One Greatest Evil! The despots in Metz, Nurnberg and Syracuse are all puppets of the anti-Pope, and are aligned with the godless Communists of the South!”
Border Outpost,
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
The ground shook as the artillery spat with full vitriol God's fury. Pages of scripture that had been tenderly attached to the artillery pieces were torn off angrily and cast into the wind, while verses from the Solaris Bible that had been crudely painted on the salamandrine barrels, ran quickly and loosely down, unable to escape the vengeful heat of God's wrath. Amid this glorious chaos stood Lord-Inquistor Belzoni, who prayed furiously as he clutched his cross and keys in his blood-soaked hands. He had already had to execute several cowardly wretches, who had failed in their duty to undertake God's work on the battlefield. Some had shown evidence of demonic possession, no doubt corrupted by Franconian spies, with foul urine staining their uniform as they faced divine justice.
“Onward Christian soldiers, only the gates of Heaven await true martyrs!” The Lord-Inquisitor bellowed, feeling the soldiers currently scurrying around, reloading the guns while desperately trying to avoid retaliatory fire, were slacking. As the gates of Heaven were mentioned, he saw several soldiers look to their own keys, taking comfort in the fact, should their earthly existence end, God’s arms would hold them in an eternal afterlife.
Torrence
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
An excited wind carried the loud hymns of the marching soldiers and the fanatical screaming of loyal subjects into the sleeping quarters of Pope Urban IV, who stood in the middle of the room, his eyes fixated on the ageing painting that dominated the ceiling. It was the scene when God revealed himself in Pope Urban I's dreams and instructed him to burn Tibur's extravagant temples, behead its corrupt clerics and found a new Church in Torrence. The strength of most of the colours had been diminished by time, but the reds of the fire and blood still burned the eyes, branding a painful picture of divine revelation and justice on the imagination and memory.
An entourage of half-clad, young virgins surrounded the Pope, carefully adorning him with pieces of cloth and armour. Only the purest could be in the presence of God's One True Representative on Earth. All had been selected by Urban personally for their virtuousness. Under his guidance and protection, their slender, nubile bodies could not be corrupted or manipulated for malign purposes.
As the last pieces of his magisterial attire were fitted to his own body, Urban began to focus on his mask. This silver mask, with its subtle etchings of the End of Days and unusually perfect features, haunted Europe. He had worn it when he announced the mercy killings of the Nicosian wretches, and he would wear it now when declaring war on the European Defence Federation. The mask was placed delicately into his hands, and he slowly raised it against his face. He then pressed the cold metal down hard, a slight smile creeping across his face as he heard the beads of sweat that had scurried down his face boil atop of his burning flesh.
“Your Incredible Holiness, the faithful await.”
The feeble, quivering female voice was quickly blown away by the wind, which was now howling madly, disturbing the long blue-and-white banners that flowed down the walls of the palace. Saying nothing, the Pope only moved forward, the group of women parting immediately like the seas before Moses, as he stepped towards the balcony outside his room, which faced the Quadrilatero, the largest square in Solaren. Beneath him stood hundreds of soldiers assembled in crucifix-style formations, still singing the battle hymns of the Sacred Kingdom. A slight move of his hand silenced them all.
“Faithful of Europe, as I stand before you, my people, my loyal subjects, thousands more agents of Satan stand across our border, hungering for the flesh of our fair young maidens, desperate for the wealth of our land, yearning for the destruction of our Churches and the murder of our holy men.”
The Pope paused, allowing his heavy words to weigh down on those before him. Behind his mask, he could see the shadowy officers of the Inquisition guiding selected journalists and cameramen from various foreign media outlets. The whole world would learn of the European Defence Federation's evils.
“But I will not allow them to. Just as the brave knights rode out to the desert to combat the dark Mohammedan savages that threatened most holy Jerusalem, so shall you, young Christian men, march to fight the infernal forces of darkness. With lead and steel, you shall do God’s work and send each heretic to the hellfire from whence they came and I shall summon all manner of substance and plague to haunt their families, lest they surrender and repent, and accept me as God’s One True Representative on Earth, Solaris Christianity as the One True Faith, and the Tiburan false Pope as the One Greatest Evil! The despots in Metz, Nurnberg and Syracuse are all puppets of the anti-Pope, and are aligned with the godless Communists of the South!”
Border Outpost,
Sacred Kingdom of Solaren
The ground shook as the artillery spat with full vitriol God's fury. Pages of scripture that had been tenderly attached to the artillery pieces were torn off angrily and cast into the wind, while verses from the Solaris Bible that had been crudely painted on the salamandrine barrels, ran quickly and loosely down, unable to escape the vengeful heat of God's wrath. Amid this glorious chaos stood Lord-Inquistor Belzoni, who prayed furiously as he clutched his cross and keys in his blood-soaked hands. He had already had to execute several cowardly wretches, who had failed in their duty to undertake God's work on the battlefield. Some had shown evidence of demonic possession, no doubt corrupted by Franconian spies, with foul urine staining their uniform as they faced divine justice.
“Onward Christian soldiers, only the gates of Heaven await true martyrs!” The Lord-Inquisitor bellowed, feeling the soldiers currently scurrying around, reloading the guns while desperately trying to avoid retaliatory fire, were slacking. As the gates of Heaven were mentioned, he saw several soldiers look to their own keys, taking comfort in the fact, should their earthly existence end, God’s arms would hold them in an eternal afterlife.