Zephyr Arsland
Learned
The Civil War that engulfed all of Ulm ended two years ago. The Nobles' Council, led by Lord Austein, fought valiantly against a rabble of madmen and murderers, feverish servants of Zartanna, the Wicked. At first it seemed easy for the nobles: there were few crowds of unarmed peasantry, clearly no match for the training and equipment the armies possesed. But the situation deteriorated quickly: it wasn't long before the first of the noble captains switched allegiance to the Covenant of Blood. And then it was a noble house, the Tornqvists, and with them half of the capital fell under their spell. Arch-Bishop Shaft used the best of his cunning and manipulative talents to garner support for the cause of his superior, and through a combination of suggestion and promises of unlimited, amoral power, established himself as the de-facto ruler of the Covenant. In the final battle for the capital, Lord Austein and his troops fell to the swarming tides of filthy vermin and possessed peasants. His standards were trampled upon, his estates razed, his family murdered, and the same happened to all the noble houses that hadn't sealed the Blood Pact with Shaft or, in rare cases, with Zartanna herself. A collective madness engulfed the kingdom, and for three months, it was as one long, nightmarish night.
When it was finally over, the Covenant had taken control of every important province in the kingdom, and Ulm and itself were one. It was time to rule, and Zartanna rewarded those who had been loyal from the beginning with high positions, from where they could further her agenda. But blood begets Blood, and when the populace woke up from their stupor they found that Ulm was now a place of terrors made real: strange creatures roamed the night, assaulting homes and devouring entire families; young girls were routinely kidnapped and led away from their parents, never to be seen again; there were more soldiers and troops that ever before, but these were different from before: the men hardly spoke, and a curious emptiness filled their days. They felt as if they were waiting for something, that their lives were devoid of something. They soon discovered what they were missing: it was the Blood, spilled in battle or otherwise. It made them whole, gave them purpose. For their Lady demanded Blood, and it was their Holy Duty to provide it to Her.
…
In the very church where Zartanna had awoken, now the Headquarters of the Covenant of Blood...
My Lady. The reports from the border patrols have arrived.
*her voice is that of a small child, but there's some sort of reverberation that's always fluctuating, and never pleasant, like nails on a chalkboard or a cat being skinned alive, some sort of unending wail* I see. You are feeling uneasy, Shaft… what is it? Your anxiety calls to me.
Yes, Lady… well… the C'tissians have amassed on the border. They seem to be waiting for something. There are hundreds of them…
The C'tissians… *her voice lowers* Always the fools… prying into Death's secrets, trying to defeat the Great Cycle. We do not share their view: For Blood must flow, and must be spilled, and consecrated for it to being anew. Destruction begets Creation… *raising her tone again* Yes, Shaft. I have seen them. For the time being, they are keeping still. Tell our ambassadors to gauge their needs. We do not need to fight them now. I would prefer their blood to be saved for later.
*nods* As you command, my Lady. But… are you not… worried? I mean, their numbers are really large…
*giggles softly. The effect is unnerving* You are still subject to your mortal limitations, Shaft… you might be my most trusted servant, the one I have elevated beyond all the others… but you are still afraid to die, deep down. That will change, given time. The lizards will not attack. Not now, at least. And if they do, we will be waiting. We have not been idle.
*bows* Of… of course, My Lady. And… about Man…
They are at war with the foul lurkers of the deep. They are suffering great losses. I have seen it… just now.
Hmm… What should we do about that?
We should wait, Shaft. No one has contacted Ulm or the Covenant yet, asking for help, advice or support. We owe allegiance to no-one. We will bide our time. *she rears her head, as if listening to something far away* Ah, here comes our friend now. Please, Shaft, leave us and return when he's gone.
As you desire, my Lady.
The Arch-Bishop turns around to leave. He finds someone staring at him from across the great room: a tall man, impeccably dressed, with long white hair and red eyes. He seems to have a bat perched on his left arm. His smirk betrays his unrespecful nature, and he doesn't even greet Shaft as they pass by each other.
I have come, Zartanna… I must thank you for bringing me back so early.
We are bound to meet again in each cycle, Matthias. And there is much to do before this one ends.
Right as always. So… *smiles* You can start by putting me up to date with the latest developments...
When it was finally over, the Covenant had taken control of every important province in the kingdom, and Ulm and itself were one. It was time to rule, and Zartanna rewarded those who had been loyal from the beginning with high positions, from where they could further her agenda. But blood begets Blood, and when the populace woke up from their stupor they found that Ulm was now a place of terrors made real: strange creatures roamed the night, assaulting homes and devouring entire families; young girls were routinely kidnapped and led away from their parents, never to be seen again; there were more soldiers and troops that ever before, but these were different from before: the men hardly spoke, and a curious emptiness filled their days. They felt as if they were waiting for something, that their lives were devoid of something. They soon discovered what they were missing: it was the Blood, spilled in battle or otherwise. It made them whole, gave them purpose. For their Lady demanded Blood, and it was their Holy Duty to provide it to Her.
…
In the very church where Zartanna had awoken, now the Headquarters of the Covenant of Blood...
*her voice is that of a small child, but there's some sort of reverberation that's always fluctuating, and never pleasant, like nails on a chalkboard or a cat being skinned alive, some sort of unending wail* I see. You are feeling uneasy, Shaft… what is it? Your anxiety calls to me.
The Arch-Bishop turns around to leave. He finds someone staring at him from across the great room: a tall man, impeccably dressed, with long white hair and red eyes. He seems to have a bat perched on his left arm. His smirk betrays his unrespecful nature, and he doesn't even greet Shaft as they pass by each other.
I have come, Zartanna… I must thank you for bringing me back so early.
