The City of Zealotry

[Richter Abend]

Richter walked among the crowds. He'd been in this hell-hole for the past five years, ever since Hargus had been killed. Everyday was the same: cries of religious fervor rung daily throughout the city, speeches made by The Herald, and even today "non-believers" were still being killed in the name of the High Inquisitor. It was disgusting. This city was a mess.

Richter had resumed mercenary work during the last five years. It kept him sharp, and it kept his pockets full. He kept his employments to men outside of the military, because Etrurian mercenary work usually had to do with stamping out "non-believers". That was something he definitely opposed, but then again, there wasn't much he could actively do against it.

"Sir!" yelled a man, running up to Richter. Richter brushed past the man, but couldn't lose him. "Sir, do you believe?" Richter stopped, and slowly turned to the man.
"Of course," Richter replied. "The High Inquisitor is the savior of Etruria. He hears the voice of St. Elimine and bestows her grace upon us." The mans face lit up.
"Hail St. Elimine!" he cried, followed by a few shouts from the crowd. Richter kept walking. He didn't believe any of it, but had learned it was safer to agree with the masses. Those who opposed died.
The High Inquisitor was the same man who tried to kill them all at the port five years earlier. Why would he trust him?

While Richter might believe that the High Inquisitor was a farce, he did have to acknowledge that the man did have a huge amount of power. Even now the murmurs of holy war rippled throughout the land.
It was power Richter could exploit, if he played his cards right.

His original plan was to sneak into the castle and approach the Inquisitor alone. Unfortunately, not only was the castle heavily guarded, but Richter realized he was not too skilled at the arts of the cloak and shadow. He'd have to try for a more direct method.

Richter made his way to the Inquisitor's castle and approached the gate. He genuflected as he reached it.
"I am a humble servant of the Inquisitor," Richter said with what he hoped came off as reverence. "I would request an audience with is greatness. I have come to be in his employ, a servant of St. Elimine."

[Kraft]

A pack of heavily armed guards stood in front of the Mercenary. Behind their backs a lot of military activity was going on and priests, tacticians, elite guards and nobles were flocking around the inner gate or talking silently amongst themselves. This was the epicentre of the High Inquisitors' power. The guards didn't even look up at Richter.

"Another Mercenary." The guard just stated and he pointed at a long line were other Mercenaries were standing. There seemed to be a lot of people waiting to swell the ranks of the Etrurian army. Everyone knew something was up. There was word a holy war would begin, somewhere in the future. War meant employment, so mercenaries from around the world flocked together in Delfia, filling the pubs and the inns. Some of them never got hired, some of them even died. But most of them neatly filled in the form and then got thrown into one or another division of the Etrurian Army.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in line." The guard grumbled. The others moved a bit away so that the toughlooking mercenary could stand in line as well. They nodded at him. On the walls there were pieces of paper indicating what information the Mercenary should give. Previous employer, age, weight, if they believed, what did they know about the current situation and so on. Between these newer papers there were older ones. The ink was already to fade away on this ones. It said something about "the killers of Saint Elimine" and information, location or the capture of said person would be greatly rewarded. It was signed by the Herald.

[Richter Abend]

Richter looked towards the line. Getting inside the castle was going to be easier than he thought. He took the spot in line that the other mercenaries had made for him, and reading the papers, decided to get his story straight.

After about a half an hour, Richter made it to the front of the line. The guard, sitting at his desk, looked up at Richter, then pulled out a new sheet of paper and dipped his quill in his ink pot.
"Name?" the man asked.
"Richter Abend," replied Richter.
"Age?"
"25 years."
"Weight?"
"212 pounds."
"Previous employer?"
"Etrurian Noble, Sir Isaac Schmidt."
"Job?"
"Bodyguard."
"Why do you want to fight?"
"Payment."
At this, the man looked up. He raised an eyebrow.
"Believer or non-believer?" he asked. Richter mentally scoffed. What other answer would he give?
"Believer," he replied. The man finished filing out the form, signed it at the bottom and handed it to Richter.
"Move on through the front gate and wait in the next area for further instructions." he said, pointing behind him. "Next." Richter walked past and into the next area. There were a lot of men just sitting around. Some looked like mercenaries, but others were standing and preaching. They were probably in it for religious purposes. It was a holy war and all.

[The Herald]

The next area was a square, with an improvised rostrum with a cloaked, handsome figure standing on it. Today was an exceptional day. The Herald himself had decided to give a speech for the new recruits. The mercenaries were given new uniforms with a sign on it; some had rising suns on it, others doves or hawks and so on. Clearly this was meant to assign the troops to a particular battalion. Some would be sent away to the battalion of the Light, in the southern provinces, others to the battalion of the Doves, which main task was to 'convert' villages in Sacae. This had proven to be a hard, hard task. Only veterans were sent there. Richter had been given this particular sign. The mercenaries formed lines and in silence they looked at the figure standing in front of them. They were battle-hardened men, they mostly cared about money, but they did recognize the boldness, the authority that the man in front of them radiated.

"MEN. YOU ARE NOW PROUD SOLDIERS OF THE CRUSADE. YOU ARE TRUE WARRIORS, WHO WILL SCOURGE THIS EARTH FOR SIGNS OF HOPE. HOPE, YOU SAY? YES. HOPE. BEFORE THE PROPHET'S ARRIVAL, THIS EARTH WAS VILE AND DISGUSTING; PEOPLE HAD FORGOTTEN THAT THERE WAS HOPE FOR SALVATION, HOPE FOR THE LIGHT. THIS IS THE MESSAGE YOU'LL HAVE TO SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE LANDS; YOU'LL BE JUSTICE'S SWORD. YOU WILL BE THAT MESSAGE OF HOPE, YOU WILL RID THE LANDS OF HERETICS WHO STOP AT NOTHING. THEY EVEN KILLED OUR BELOVED SAINT ELIMINE; THEY ARE MONSTERS WHO MUST BE STOPPED AND YOU, YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN FOR THIS. EACH OF YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED TO A BATTALION WERE YOU WILL TRAIN AND IMPROVE YOUR SKILLS; AFTER THIS YOU WILL BE HERALDS, LIKE ME, WHO WILL SPREAD THE GOOD WORD; THE MESSAGE OF HOPE, ALL OVER THE LANDS. NOW, GO, AND SHOW THE WORLD WHAT THE DEFENDERS OF LIGHT AND GOODNESS LOOK LIKE. BE HEROES."

While this message had been given to many, many people in different times and places, it still struck home. Some mercenaries openly prayed or cried openly. Most of them just stood there with swelling breasts, knowing that they'll change the fate of the world. Others just stood there, stone-faced, waiting for the Herald to stop and for the fighting to begin. They were only in it for the money. After the Herald's dramatic pause, the mercenaries eventually fell silent.

"NOW, IF ANY OF YOU HAS SOMETHING TO SAY, SOMETHING IMPORTANT, THEN, BY ALL MEANS, SPEAK."

Some mercenaries spoke up and fired questions at the Herald who answered them loud and clearly. Other questions were ignored, if they were deemed useless or stupid. Finally it was Richter's turn. His time to ask. His time to shine.

"SOLDIER, SPEAK."

[Richter Abend]

Richter stood, staring straight back at the Herald. Everyone turned to look at him. Richter payed them no heed. He stared right back at the Herald.

"I have no questions, because I already know what I am here to do," said Richter with steel in his voice.
"I have come here today, for one purpose, and one purpose only. I have come, here, to this army, to this place, to join one of the most powerful armies in the world. Why? Because through this army, I plan to gain power. It's as simple as that. The power to crush the stifling forces of injustice and oppression. I plan to fight so that the weak don't have to. I plan to sweat and toil so that others may have their burdens lessened. I have no need for abstract concepts such as the Light." Richter closed his eyes, paused, and then stared back at the Herald.
"I may just be one mercenary, Herald of the High Inquisitor, but that is why I am here, nothing more, nothing less."

As Richter finished, he stooped looking at the Herald and stared straight forward, looking at nothing in particular. He might have not made the right decision in what he had said, but it was the truth.

[Papilion]

"Holy Crap!" were the only words Papilion (nicknamed Piggy at training) could think. He came seeking employment but didn't expect so many people to be there.
"Well, with this many people here, the pay won't be that great. I am out of here"

He shrunk away hoping nobody would notice him.
"Now where should I look for employment..."

[Hiro]

Hiro stood in line, his sole job was to weed out the "believers". The ones that didn't but claimed to. Talking to the man behind him they talked about gambling habits, hot women the got to 'know', and other things Hiro knew about. "Hey, do you plan on letting them know you're eye ball deep into that stuff?" Hiro put his hands in his back pockets, the right one into a small pouch of ink. "Hell no, if I had a death wish I would but living is fantastic."

Slapping the man with his right hand across the shoulder he chuckled. "Wise man. All this talk about sex is getting me in the mood, I'm going to bounce and losing up if ya know what I mean then come back. Best of luck man." Getting out of line he jogged off, this wasn't the first time he done this, as they ended the room they always check the right shoulder to look for that mark.

Hiro had wondered around the room for a bit after duping yet another unlucky soul.

[The Herald]

The man marked by Hiro was lucky. He only got turned down for the service and got conviently beaten up by some 'thugs' when he wandered the streets later that day. Hiro took pride in his job and he did it well. Kraft had sent some messenger to ask Hiro if he would come to his office. The High Inquisitor wanted to discuss something with Hiro... (Open a new thread, called 'The High Inquistor's Office').

__________________________________________________________________________


The Herald looked back at Richter. This was blasphemy. While he recognised the man's authority, he was also baffled by his rude response. But he had passed the selection, so he must've been a believer. Men around Richter hissed and scoffed him, calling him a stone-hearted bastard and other things;

"ENOUGH. THIS MAN HAS SPOKEN FREELY, AND HE DID IT WELL. DID HE NOT TELL YOU HE WOULD LIGHTEN YOUR BURDENS? DID HE NOT TELL YOU HE WANTED TO HAVE POWER? AND WHAT FOR? FOR THE WORLD'S SALVATION, OF COURSE."

The mercenaries fell silent. There was truth in the Herald's words. The Heraled rubbed his eyes, he was intrigued by the honesty of Richter's answer. He wanted to have a word with this ambitious mercenary.

"NO MORE QUESTIONS. MEN, GO TO YOUR BATTALIONS. EXCEPT YOU, YOU COME HERE." He pointed at Richter. The men dispersed and soon only Richter was standing there. The Herald stepped of his rostrum and his personal guard followed him closely. He stood in front of Richter and inspected him for a long time. Then, he whispered;

"DO YOU BELIEVE, SOLDIER?"

[Richter Abend]

Richter did not respond to the other soldiers curses and insults. Their opinions meant nothing to him. He had already decided his path. He would not stray from it.

Richter couldn't help but feel a little nervous as the rest of the soldiers left, leaving Richter standing alone. He tried not to let it show as the Herald inspected him. The Herald was looking him up and down. Perhaps this is what Richter wanted. Perhaps he was just drawing out his death sentence. Nevertheless, Richter stood still.

Then came the Herald's question, whispered into his ear. Even in a whisper, the man's voice was powerful. The question seemed much more potent than any other person asking it. He couldn't just shrug off the question, catering to the tastes of another fanatic believer. No, a simple "yes" wouldn't suffice here.
The Herald's personal guard look at Richter quizzically. I mean, Richter had spouted blasphemy. Why wasn't the Herald just killing him and being done with it. No, the Herald had chosen to talk to Richter alone and in person. Richter recognized the significance of it. He wasn't sure if that meant an honest conversation, however.
"I..." started Richter. There was a long pause as Richter thought of his answer. He then recomposed himself. "...believe in a world where the strong do not bully the weak. Where instead of those with power bearing down on those without, they, instead, use their power to help them up."

[The Herald]

The Herald listened. He truely listened. Every whispered word, every tone, every syllable, every pause. He listened and he heared. While listening he kept close to Richter, so close it was intimidating. But he didn't intimidate. The Herald was a kind man, but rightious and severe to those who insult his Faith or Prophet. After Richter's answer he backed off and smiled. Although it had been a bleak, rainy day, the sun seemed to break through and one beam of light fell down upon Richter and the Herald, only illuminating both of them.

He spread his arms and smiled warmly.

"CAN'T YOU SEE? THIS..." And he pointed at the priests, the monks and the guards with his extended arms. "THIS IS THAT DREAM OF YOURS. WE BELIEVE IN A WORLD LIKE THAT. WE DO NOT BULLY, WE GIVE. WE HOPE THAT ONE DAY THE WORLD WILL BE GUIDED OUT OF DARKNESS, THAT PEOPLE WILL STOP KILLING AND STEALING AND THAT INSTEAD THEY WILL PRAY. THE WEAK ARE EQUEAL TO THE STRONG BOTH IN MIND AND SOUL... ALL THIS, ALL THIS POWER, THESE SOLDIERS SERVE A HIGHER PURPOSE. YOU MUST'VE SEEN THIS? SURELY, YOU MUST HAVE SEEN THIS. THIS IS NOT A CASTLE, THIS IS A BEACON OF LIGHT, ILLUMINATING THE WORLD. WHILE SAD SACRIFICES ARE NECESSARY, WE BELIEVE THAT IN THE END THE WORLD WILL HAVE BECOME A BETTER PLACE. A PLACE WHERE WEAPONS WILL BE OBSOLETE AND WHERE PEOPLE CAN LIVE UNDER THE GLORIOUS BANNER OF SAINT ELIMINE. WHERE EVERYONE CAN BE IN PEACE. THE WEAK AND THE STRONG, THE FAIR AND THE UGLY. ALL OF THEM ARE EQUAL IN THE EYES OF SAINT ELIMINE AND OUR PROPHET."

He then smiled warmly once again and his eyes seemed to soften. The soldiers guarding the Herald didn't seem so menacing anymore. At the end of his speech the sun had brought light to the entire courtyard. You could hear the whistling of birds and the silent prayers and chatter of clerics and priests. The soldiers smiled faintly at Richter.

"AH, THE SUN. TRUELY A GIFT." The Herald came closer to Richter again and gently tapped his shoulder. He smiled at him.

"YOU SEE? EVERYTHING WE DO IS FOR THE BETTER OF THE WORLD. WE BELIEVE IN PEACE, HOW EXPENSIVE IT MIGHT BE."

The Herald urged some clercs closer who seemed to hold some books. The books were heavy and leather-bound, all written by hand. The Herald showed one at Richter.

"READ ONE OF THESE. THEY CONSIST OF THE ORIGINAL TEACHINGS OF SAINT ELIMINE AND THE PROPHET. READ THEM AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. ALL WE'RE AFTER IS..." He paused a moment to think and while grinning once again he found it.

"...JUSTICE."

[Richter Abend]

Richter felt relaxed as the Herald spoke. There was something about this man that Richter liked. Maybe it was the soothing power of his voice, maybe it was his faith in his St. Elimine, maybe it was his smile, or maybe it was just the peaceful light coming down. No, it wasn't any of that. It was all of that. The man seemed at peace with what he was doing. Their ideologies coincided. Yes, Richter had come to the right place.

But Richter remembered the city. People were being killed all over. That was the work of the prophet, wasn't it? No, it couldn't have been the work of anyone associated with this man. They were zealots, fanatics, believers gone wrong. This man could help Richter achieve his dream.

Richter reached out and took the book offered to him. Its soft leather bound cover, combined with its weight made it seem like it was just bursting with knowledge. Richter felt that while he might not believe in the religion, he could believe in their ideals. Justice was what Richter searched for in the world. Yes, justice did require sacrifice. Every good thing in the world did.

Richter couldn't help but let a slight grin escape the corner of his mouth.
"Guide my sword to justice," he said, "so that no more swords will be necessary."

[The Herald]

The Herald smiled once more. It was the look of a father being satisfied with the outcome of his child. Fatherly he put his arm around Richter's neck and gently pulled him towards a gate.

"I HAVE SOMETHING I WANT TO SHOW YOU."

The clercs and the soldiers followed, they walked slowly, together. Eventually they arrived in a more secluded place of the castle, where heavily ornated guards and a lot of pilgrims and priests where praying. In the middle was a elegant tomb containing the body of Saint Elimine.

"THIS IS HER BODY... SHE FOUGHT TOO, SHE FOUGHT FOR THIS WORLD, HOPING IT WOULD STOP SUFFERING. IT DIDN'T. SHE CAME BACK A SECOND TIME, ONLY TO BE SENT BACK BY A GROUP OF HERETICS. WHILE I DO NOT KNOW THEIR MOTIVES, THEY HAVE KILLED A GREAT WOMAN. HER APOSTLE, OUR PROPHET, WAS THERE. SHE ENTRUSTED HIM WITH THIS GRAND TASK. AND I, IN TURN, AM BUT A HUMBLE APOSTLE OF OUR PROPHET KRAFT. WE SERVE ONE GOAL; PEACE."

He said this silently and some monks came closer to hear of his words. Soon a platter with tea was brought and some wooden chairs. The Herald gently urged Richter to sit down and to enjoy his tea. He could pray in silence. The Herald did a little, whispered prayer and then sipped his tea. He smiled warmly once again. He always had time to show people flaws in their logic and to show them the True Faith.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I'VE KNOWN SO MANY NAMELESS PERSONS, WHO DIED FOR OUR GOOD CAUSE. LET ME TELL YOU OF AN EXAMPLE. A MAN CAME TO ME, ASKING IF HE COULD BRING PEACE OFFERINGS TO SACAE. I AGREED, BUT NEVER ASKED HIS NAME. HE WAS KILLED IN THAT VERY COUNTRY, BECAUSE OF HIS BELIEF, HIS FAITH, HIS GOAL. ALL HE WANTED TO DO WAS TO BRING A MESSAGE OF PEACE. AND NOW HE DIED NAMELESS IN MY MEMORY..."

The Herald stared at Elimine's tomb and sipped from his tea again. He put it down and slowly shook his head. A sad look appeared on his face.

"IT IS SAD. THIS MAN DESERVED TO BE PRINTED IN MY MEMORY. HE WAS A GREAT, LOVING MAN. SO, PRAY, TELL ME, WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

He smiled at Richter and the priests who seemed to have flocked around them. Most of them were old and gentle and had an amused look in their faces. They loved it when someone was in awe of the tomb, surrounded by bushes, flowers and beautiful ornaments. It was a piece of art, holding the greatest woman the world had ever known.

[Richter Abend]

Richter look around at the beautiful garden, the ornate armor. If only he could bring this kind of peace and wealth to the rest of the world. He took a sip of the tea. Peppermint, his favorite. His mother always used to make it at home.

"My name is Richter Abend," he said in reply. "I'm just a mercenary, native to Illia. I haven't been there in years, though." Richter took another sip of the tea, and gave the another corner-of-the-mouth smile to the old monks. He wasn't used to smiling, but their faces relaxed him. He hadn't felt this kind of peace since he was a boy. Richter took another sip of the tea.

He looked at the coffin. "So that's the famous St. Elimine in there, is it?" The coffin was very well decorated; a beautiful sight to behold. He could definitely imagine a saint being buried in a coffin like that.

[The Herald]

"RICHTER ABEND." The Herald repeated. He seemed to 'taste' the name and let it roll in his mouth a few times. Then, with amused eyes, he repeated it.

"WHAT A WONDERFUL NAME. AND YES, THAT'S HER GRAVE..." He sadly shook his head, and showed respect by a quick bow towards the grave. He then smiled and gently stood up.

"RICHTER ABEND. I SEE YOU BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND WHAT OUR GOAL IS. IT IS NOT DESTRUCTION, LIKE SO MANY THINK. IT IS THE BEGINNING OF A VOYAGE THAT WILL LEAD US TO PEACE. LET'S SAY THAT OUR PROPHET IS OUR CAPTAIN AND WE ARE ALL PASSENGERS. WE MUST WORK TOGETHER TO GET THE SHIP SOMEWHERE. THAT'S WHY WE NEED SAILORS, BECAUSE A CAPTAIN CAN'T DO IT ALL BY HIMSELF. BUT A SAILOR NEEDS TO LEARN HIS TRADE. IT'S THE SAME WITH FAITH..."

The Herald waved at an older priest and beckoned him to come closer. An old, lean man, with a friendly face and short, grey hair, came closer. He wore the traditional priest outfit, with a small medal on it. It was the sign of the High Inquisitor.

"I AM A BUSY MAN, RICHTER. I BARELY SLEEP OR EAT, BECAUSE I WORK FOR THE IMPROVEMENT OF THIS WORLD. BUT I ALWAYS TOOK A GREAT LIKING TO SOULS LIKE YOU, THEY ALREADY HAVE THE FAITH IN THEIR HEARTS, THEY JUST NEVER KNEW IT WAS ALREADY OUT THERE. THIS IS FATHER ALEX, HE WILL GUIDE YOU. I HAVE GREAT FAITH IN YOU, RICHTER."

He let his arm rest on Richter's shoulder and showed his teeth. Pure, white teeth. His beautiful hair and clothes made him look more like an angel than a human. He pointed at the book in Richter's hands.

"STUDY IT. HANG AROUND THIS PLACE FOR A WHILE. YOU WON'T BE ALLOWED INTO THE INNER CASTLE, BUT THERE ARE SLEEPING BARRACKS FOR PILGRIMS AROUND HERE. MY APOLOGIES FOR THE GUARDS EVERYWHERE. I WANT YOU TO STUDY THIS BOOK VERY WELL, RICHTER, I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND WHAT WE ARE DOING HERE. WITHIN A FEW DAYS THE PROPHET HIMSELF WILL COME TO THIS GARDENS. FATHER YVAN WILL SHOW HIM TO YOU. SHOW HIM THAT YOU HAVE LEARNED." The Herald paused for a while and let Richter's shoulder go after gently squeezing it. He drank the last of his tea and bowed slightly for Richter.

"FOR NOW, I MUST GO. I AM A BUSY MAN. LEARN AND GROW, RICHTER ABEND." The Herald and his guard strolled away and the Herald seemed to be humming the tone in which he had said those last words. The sun was shining brightly and somewhere a priest was singing in a beautiful voice. Everything was so smooth and peaceful in this inner garden. A peace like this came with a heavy price, but every single last man within the castle was willing to pay it.

"Come, Richter, we have much to discuss." Father Yvan said and the old man took Richter by his arm, leading him to a small chamber where others were studying the books as well.

"Please sit down, Richter, make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, I'll be there." And Father Yvan pointed at a chair with some religious books next to it on a small table. Everything was very dull in this room, but it only strenghten the feeling of peace that was around there. Richter had a few days of learning hard in front of him. But the Herald seemed to be sure that a new-born person would arise from it, a reliable, strong person who, most importantly, believed.

(OOC: Okay if we do a flashforward in another thread, where you will meet Kraft? You can come up with a title. )

[Richter Abend]

(FLASH FORWARD!)

Richter sat in the garden, awaiting the Prophet, the High Inquisitor. He was drinking peppermint tea and reading the book. He had read it a lot over the past few days. He wanted to see what the whole belief was about. It had a good message, there was no doubt about that, but all of the divine pomp and circumstance was a bit much for him. I mean, everyone he met here were good people, but he couldn't bring himself to believe in all the divinity. They were just people after all.

He stopped to look at the coffin. The garden really was beautiful.