Great update. And what an interesting turn of events. It seems Judas is no longer in our side. Thats even better. Europe conquest will be more interessting.
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[ooc: I may not be able to affect you people now, but my lackeys will.]
Judas looked at his defeater. To himself, he said:
As much power as you believe in me? Perhaps--but you still believe I exist, and that gives me some power. Enough to get more people to believe in me, and to gain more power once again. Meanwhile, remember that your ships will be becalmed, your lands will have no rain. Go and starve.
Europe and the Mediterranean basin had always been his favourite place. He had scrapped together a small group of faithful in a small seaside land on the eastern edge of his beloved land. They called him Adonai. But they turned away from him, and he was forced to come down in human form to bring them to the right path.
They killed his mortal form.
Twelve men, followers of him in his mortal life, spread the true form of his faith. Now, all of Europe believed in him, thinking him the only God.
Before he was killed, he had promised one thing: He would come again.
The sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
And then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.
For ten days clouds completely covered the Christian areas. Neither sun, nor moon, nor stars could be seen. Thunder, lightning, rain and wind shook the heavens. Meteors struck the sea (but not ships) like falling stars. Then, finally, from the clouds decended one bright purple platform. On it was Judas in his favoured form: A tall, thirty year old man, with light skin and brown hair, wearing a simple white robe. The wind still whirled in a circle around him, but most of the storm disappeared.
The final days have come. The powers of Satan have been released and attack to the south. I, your Lord and God, have returned, as promised so long ago.
Judas looked at his defeater. To himself, he said:
As much power as you believe in me? Perhaps--but you still believe I exist, and that gives me some power. Enough to get more people to believe in me, and to gain more power once again. Meanwhile, remember that your ships will be becalmed, your lands will have no rain. Go and starve.
Europe and the Mediterranean basin had always been his favourite place. He had scrapped together a small group of faithful in a small seaside land on the eastern edge of his beloved land. They called him Adonai. But they turned away from him, and he was forced to come down in human form to bring them to the right path.
They killed his mortal form.
Twelve men, followers of him in his mortal life, spread the true form of his faith. Now, all of Europe believed in him, thinking him the only God.
Before he was killed, he had promised one thing: He would come again.
The sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
And then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.
For ten days clouds completely covered the Christian areas. Neither sun, nor moon, nor stars could be seen. Thunder, lightning, rain and wind shook the heavens. Meteors struck the sea (but not ships) like falling stars. Then, finally, from the clouds decended one bright purple platform. On it was Judas in his favoured form: A tall, thirty year old man, with light skin and brown hair, wearing a simple white robe. The wind still whirled in a circle around him, but most of the storm disappeared.
The final days have come. The powers of Satan have been released and attack to the south. I, your Lord and God, have returned, as promised so long ago.
The conflict has now literally taken biblical proportions! Exciting indeed!
*leans back, starts eating popcorn*
Hey, you in the back, would you mind stopping your wailing and gnashing of teeth!?
*leans back, starts eating popcorn*
Hey, you in the back, would you mind stopping your wailing and gnashing of teeth!?
A lone hamster was doing what it always do in his short life – eating, when he suddenly noticed something strange. Light. There became darker near him. He rose his head… and petrified from horror. There was an eagle above him. He has surely noticed him. It is to late to run. He closed his eyes and prepared for sudden pain and quick death. And he waited. But there was no pain. And no death. He opened his eyes. There was no eagle. Only a strange man, wearing an eagle mask and with brown wings on his back, who kneeled before another man, who was wearing a totally orange wear and has an orange obsidian sword on his side.
So what have you learned?
He promised to not bring rain to Mexika.
This is not my trouble, but Lord’s Commandantl. Anything more?
He also said that he has created a new religion, that it is spreading amongst Europe and that his followers now give him a lot of power.
Yes, I feel it. He is now much stronger than before. That was only minor defeat for him in Rome. After all, we cant expect, that mortal could totally crush god. Bumblebee has already showed more than was awaited from him. Now, I must tell the news to other gods. And tell them something. I am going to Rome to meet Eochaid and Commandantl. Tell to Fu-sag to to also come there.
Then both men disappeared. Only lone eagle rose from there, while an orange cloud swam through ether.
Only small hamster left there, still don’t believing in his eyes.
– – –
That man is learning fast.
Just like that god.
Nothing showed, that lord Eochaid has heard Lord’s Gytis words. Only one of his eyes became even more white, another – more black.
Hello, brother. What brings you here?
Same thing as you, my brothers.
Air filled with pink flash and a pink twinkle appeared.
Ahh, Fu-sag is here as well.
Gytis invited me here.
Really? What do you want, Gytis?
I have important things to say.
So say them. Or I need to bring here Delicious One here to dance her dance for you to get answers, hihi?
Shut up!
OK, OK! We have a meeting here! What do you wanted to say, Gytis.
I have two important things to say. First, Judas will no longer bring rain to the lands of Mexika.
Haha. Who does he thinks he is? I am the god of rain and I will ensure, that rain will rain.
I knew you will say that. But the other thing is much more important. Judas has created a new cult and is gathering followers rapidly. And they give him power. Great power.
What?
No way.
It is impossible.
It is true. The new faith is spreading thought Europe. Everyday more and more peoples becomes followers of it. And every day he grows stronger. If we wont stop it, he will grow to such power, that even combine power of ours will not defeat him. So we must act now. We must strike. The last defeat has weakened him, so we need to use this moment. For this, we must swear to use all our powers to fight Judas and punish this traitor. To do not end fight till complete victory or complete defeat. We must use the cold mind of Eochaid, the beauty of Fu-sag, the good heart of Commandantl and the hatred of mine all together. Together we are invincible. That god will have no chance against four smoking mirrors. Eochaid, Commandantl, Fu-sag. Do you accept?
So what have you learned?
He promised to not bring rain to Mexika.
This is not my trouble, but Lord’s Commandantl. Anything more?
He also said that he has created a new religion, that it is spreading amongst Europe and that his followers now give him a lot of power.
Yes, I feel it. He is now much stronger than before. That was only minor defeat for him in Rome. After all, we cant expect, that mortal could totally crush god. Bumblebee has already showed more than was awaited from him. Now, I must tell the news to other gods. And tell them something. I am going to Rome to meet Eochaid and Commandantl. Tell to Fu-sag to to also come there.
Then both men disappeared. Only lone eagle rose from there, while an orange cloud swam through ether.
Only small hamster left there, still don’t believing in his eyes.
– – –
That man is learning fast.
Just like that god.
Nothing showed, that lord Eochaid has heard Lord’s Gytis words. Only one of his eyes became even more white, another – more black.
Hello, brother. What brings you here?
Same thing as you, my brothers.
Air filled with pink flash and a pink twinkle appeared.
Ahh, Fu-sag is here as well.
Gytis invited me here.
Really? What do you want, Gytis?
I have important things to say.
So say them. Or I need to bring here Delicious One here to dance her dance for you to get answers, hihi?
Shut up!
OK, OK! We have a meeting here! What do you wanted to say, Gytis.
I have two important things to say. First, Judas will no longer bring rain to the lands of Mexika.
Haha. Who does he thinks he is? I am the god of rain and I will ensure, that rain will rain.
I knew you will say that. But the other thing is much more important. Judas has created a new cult and is gathering followers rapidly. And they give him power. Great power.
What?
No way.
It is impossible.
It is true. The new faith is spreading thought Europe. Everyday more and more peoples becomes followers of it. And every day he grows stronger. If we wont stop it, he will grow to such power, that even combine power of ours will not defeat him. So we must act now. We must strike. The last defeat has weakened him, so we need to use this moment. For this, we must swear to use all our powers to fight Judas and punish this traitor. To do not end fight till complete victory or complete defeat. We must use the cold mind of Eochaid, the beauty of Fu-sag, the good heart of Commandantl and the hatred of mine all together. Together we are invincible. That god will have no chance against four smoking mirrors. Eochaid, Commandantl, Fu-sag. Do you accept?
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The small, sapphire blue frog sitting in a Tlateloque's outstreched hand blinked its oversized eyes and spoke.
"It is all too clear that this madness of Lord Feathered Serpent Maccabeus must not be taken lightly. We should act in concert, dear brothers." The Tlateloque scratched Lord Commandantl gently, as if approving of his reply.
"We seem to think alike" Gytis responded.
"Scratch my chin, yes-yes, ahhh, that's the spot... Uh, quack, I mean sorry?"
"I said we think alike, brother."
"Ah, yes. Indeed. I say we hit back hard. As a matter of fact, I've already put Hungry Coyote on the job. But what about you, Lord Flower Prince Fu-sag? And Lord Black Smoking Mirror Eochaitl? What say you?"
"It is all too clear that this madness of Lord Feathered Serpent Maccabeus must not be taken lightly. We should act in concert, dear brothers." The Tlateloque scratched Lord Commandantl gently, as if approving of his reply.
"We seem to think alike" Gytis responded.
"Scratch my chin, yes-yes, ahhh, that's the spot... Uh, quack, I mean sorry?"
"I said we think alike, brother."
"Ah, yes. Indeed. I say we hit back hard. As a matter of fact, I've already put Hungry Coyote on the job. But what about you, Lord Flower Prince Fu-sag? And Lord Black Smoking Mirror Eochaitl? What say you?"
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Fu-sag sighed. "Brother against brother, and Victoria hasn't been released yet..."
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing."
"And why can't take a physical shape like the rest of us?"
"Don't wanna." The pink fog rolled around the clearing in deep thought. "You are right, my brothers, we must stop Judas and restore balance to the Force."
"The Force?"
"Nevermind. I'll send you the video. What are we to do?"
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing."
"And why can't take a physical shape like the rest of us?"
"Don't wanna." The pink fog rolled around the clearing in deep thought. "You are right, my brothers, we must stop Judas and restore balance to the Force."
"The Force?"
"Nevermind. I'll send you the video. What are we to do?"
[color=66FFFF]The humans down on the sinful earth were blissfully unaware of the turmoil they’ve created in the heavens. Neither did Angry Bumblebee realize that he was now up against the God of the Christians Himself: for people sometimes don’t see what’s been right in front of their eyes for too long. Who might have thought that Lord Judas, the gentle, sophisticated god of Wind, Learning and Transformation who used to be against the human sacrifice in the times too ancient to speak about, would arrive to the Eastern coasts of Mediterranean when driven out of Mexico 2000 years ago? No one. Right. No one.
For the Great Speaker, He remained who He had always been: Lord Feathered Serpent Judas. Europeans pronounce Him as Jesus? Bah. Can not be.
---
Meanwhile, the troubles of the moment started just when Angry Bumblebee thought they escaped into the relative safety of the Rome’s twisted lanes.
Madame Laura, who, as we would remember, was now stuck inside the Catholic priest’s overweight body, stopped. Then she made a few careful jumps up and down, and shook her thighs, with that telltale inward look on her face that usually pregnant women have. ‘It dangles,’ she announced.
‘What?’ The Great Speaker did not get it at first. ‘Ah, yeah it does. But you won’t notice soon.’
‘What a nasty thing to carry down there. Dangles, and is permanently erect.’
The woman in Madame Laura’s own body made an indefinite sound. She also stopped, a bit away from her companions.
‘What are you hm’ing at?’ Laura asked with a hiss in her voice.
The woman shook her head and managed a friendly smile. Not understanding Italian, she sure could read the threat in the body language.
‘You bitch,’ Madame went on quietly. ‘You pagan whore. You and your… friend here. Came. Screwed me up. Knifed me dead. Got me convicted to the stake. And stolen my body?’ she made a step towards the Mexicans.
‘Gods took you out of the body. Not us,’ Angry Bumblebee reasoned in a friendly voice.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Madame screamed, no doubt stretching the priest’s vocal cords to their mighty limit.
The Great Speaker sighed. He hated killing women in the open streets. He thought it a waste. But even more than that, he hated ugly scenes with tears. And after all, there was a male Christian priest in front of him, not a woman. Technically speaking. And a dead priest, at that.
He stretched out his left arm in a peaceful gesture, holding his right one near the Obsidian Dagger. ‘Sorry to have made you upset, Madame. I will pay for all. Flamboyantly. In cash. In sonorous golden coins.’
‘Rubbish! That whore’s in my body and I am in this stinky, heavy, scratchy monster of a man! With a dangly little prick!’ she bent forward to raise the skirts of the priest’s robe and demonstrate the source of her particular misery.
‘Stop it,’ Angry Bumblebee said, making a step forward.
She ignored him, busy with the heavy clothes.
He shrugged, pulled out his Dagger and shoved it handle-deep into her exposed neck.
As she died again, she kept him locked in a hateful glance. She even made an attempt to spit at him.
‘Well then,’ Angry Bumblebee said in Nahuatl to his companion. ‘She’ll be safer here in the Dagger.’
The woman couldn’t stop staring at the dead priest in front of her. ‘You killed him, One Reed!’ she finally stated the obvious, in the same language.
‘Right on. Only it’s not him. Her. The woman whose body you are wearing. Now she’s inside here,’ he patted the Dagger, smiled, and cleaned it on the Priest’s robe. ‘Useful invention by My Lords the Gods of Mexico. Anyway, let’s go.’
They disappeared from the scene, quickly turning a few corners. It seemed that no one has noticed them yet.
After a while, the woman shook her head again. ‘Why do I look like this? I don't remember how I turned up at the stake. What happened? Why are we alone, One Reed? Where is our army? I don't recognise the city. They speak Italian. Is it Genoa that we have recently taken?'
Angry Bumblebee stopped briefly to look at her. 'Hold on with questions. First things first. Tell me: who are you?'
'Now that's a funny one.'
'I am not kidding. I don't know you.'
'Easy to pretend now that I look like this?' she was trying to make a joke in a voice full of pain. 'I am your wife, and your closest advisor, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Tlaxcallan Alliance. You gave me that post!'
'Precious Broken Plume?' The Great Speaker grabbed her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘What does Tlaxcala have to do with it?’
'No, that is not my name, One Reed.'
'I am not One Reed.'
'Of course not. You left this name in the past. You are Switching Eye now. How did you manage to fix your skull?'
'What?'
'Left side patched with gold, right side replaced with black obsidian... that's how you used to be. You had a lot of head wounds.'
'Never a single one,' he resisted a sudden urge to scratch his head. 'That's my first war in many bundles of years. Woman, three things. First: continue running. Don't stop. Second: you are under a spell. I understand. You were yanked into this body from somewhere. By the Gods. I am not sure why. I don't know what to do with you. Third: what's your name.'
She looked at him with sorrow. 'Delicious One.'
'And I am Angry Bumblebee, the Great Speaker of the Mexica. Nice to meet you.'
From here on, the conversation became both emotional and very informative. Angry Bumblebee learned that in a strange twist of reality, he apparently had been married to this woman as a leader of Tlaxcala (the nation that now existed only in songs of yesteryear, for he got it annexed over a hundred years ago). Together they had conquered the vast continents of Americas and Africa, and taken on the European lands from London to Genoa and from Andalusia to Podolia.
What a game the Gods are playing! He thought. No doubt, it had all been devised by the cunning Lord Eocaitl.
Delicious One in turn learned that all her life was but a dream. It never existed.
‘So I come from the dreams?’ she mused.
‘I dunno,' he shrugged. 'I can take you again as a wife, though.’
Delicious One blushed. She obviously wanted that, having been his wife (the First wife, mind you, the First and Only one) for many centuries even though in what turned out to be the dreamland; but she did not want to be shrugged back into the wifehood. So she did not answer.
Dressed as locals, with Madame Laura's body helping them a great deal to blend in, they made their way out of the capital, heading east all the time. There, Angry Bumblebee said, would be their army, their civilisation, and his household set up in the lands of Italian New Mexico.
‘Your household?’ she asked, instantly tight-lipped.
‘Yeah, my wife and all. No kids though. I don’t need heirs.’ He told her how strong and valiant his army was; how it kicked the Italian butt all over the Peninsula and how it grabbed two provinces from the Papal States in a heartbeat. He also told her about the Rain Warriors, and about his immortality fed by the Lord Geoffrey's dead water dripping deep in a far away Mexican cave, and many other unusual things. She went alongside him nodding and smiling. Because that used to be her reality, too.
And a week later they indeed met the Mexican army.
But not in the valiant state Angry Bumblebee promised.
Because they met their army on what was to become known as the Night of Sorrows.[/color]
For the Great Speaker, He remained who He had always been: Lord Feathered Serpent Judas. Europeans pronounce Him as Jesus? Bah. Can not be.
---
Meanwhile, the troubles of the moment started just when Angry Bumblebee thought they escaped into the relative safety of the Rome’s twisted lanes.
Madame Laura, who, as we would remember, was now stuck inside the Catholic priest’s overweight body, stopped. Then she made a few careful jumps up and down, and shook her thighs, with that telltale inward look on her face that usually pregnant women have. ‘It dangles,’ she announced.
‘What?’ The Great Speaker did not get it at first. ‘Ah, yeah it does. But you won’t notice soon.’
‘What a nasty thing to carry down there. Dangles, and is permanently erect.’
The woman in Madame Laura’s own body made an indefinite sound. She also stopped, a bit away from her companions.
‘What are you hm’ing at?’ Laura asked with a hiss in her voice.
The woman shook her head and managed a friendly smile. Not understanding Italian, she sure could read the threat in the body language.
‘You bitch,’ Madame went on quietly. ‘You pagan whore. You and your… friend here. Came. Screwed me up. Knifed me dead. Got me convicted to the stake. And stolen my body?’ she made a step towards the Mexicans.
‘Gods took you out of the body. Not us,’ Angry Bumblebee reasoned in a friendly voice.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Madame screamed, no doubt stretching the priest’s vocal cords to their mighty limit.
The Great Speaker sighed. He hated killing women in the open streets. He thought it a waste. But even more than that, he hated ugly scenes with tears. And after all, there was a male Christian priest in front of him, not a woman. Technically speaking. And a dead priest, at that.
He stretched out his left arm in a peaceful gesture, holding his right one near the Obsidian Dagger. ‘Sorry to have made you upset, Madame. I will pay for all. Flamboyantly. In cash. In sonorous golden coins.’
‘Rubbish! That whore’s in my body and I am in this stinky, heavy, scratchy monster of a man! With a dangly little prick!’ she bent forward to raise the skirts of the priest’s robe and demonstrate the source of her particular misery.
‘Stop it,’ Angry Bumblebee said, making a step forward.
She ignored him, busy with the heavy clothes.
He shrugged, pulled out his Dagger and shoved it handle-deep into her exposed neck.
As she died again, she kept him locked in a hateful glance. She even made an attempt to spit at him.
‘Well then,’ Angry Bumblebee said in Nahuatl to his companion. ‘She’ll be safer here in the Dagger.’
The woman couldn’t stop staring at the dead priest in front of her. ‘You killed him, One Reed!’ she finally stated the obvious, in the same language.
‘Right on. Only it’s not him. Her. The woman whose body you are wearing. Now she’s inside here,’ he patted the Dagger, smiled, and cleaned it on the Priest’s robe. ‘Useful invention by My Lords the Gods of Mexico. Anyway, let’s go.’
They disappeared from the scene, quickly turning a few corners. It seemed that no one has noticed them yet.
After a while, the woman shook her head again. ‘Why do I look like this? I don't remember how I turned up at the stake. What happened? Why are we alone, One Reed? Where is our army? I don't recognise the city. They speak Italian. Is it Genoa that we have recently taken?'
Angry Bumblebee stopped briefly to look at her. 'Hold on with questions. First things first. Tell me: who are you?'
'Now that's a funny one.'
'I am not kidding. I don't know you.'
'Easy to pretend now that I look like this?' she was trying to make a joke in a voice full of pain. 'I am your wife, and your closest advisor, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Tlaxcallan Alliance. You gave me that post!'
'Precious Broken Plume?' The Great Speaker grabbed her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘What does Tlaxcala have to do with it?’
'No, that is not my name, One Reed.'
'I am not One Reed.'
'Of course not. You left this name in the past. You are Switching Eye now. How did you manage to fix your skull?'
'What?'
'Left side patched with gold, right side replaced with black obsidian... that's how you used to be. You had a lot of head wounds.'
'Never a single one,' he resisted a sudden urge to scratch his head. 'That's my first war in many bundles of years. Woman, three things. First: continue running. Don't stop. Second: you are under a spell. I understand. You were yanked into this body from somewhere. By the Gods. I am not sure why. I don't know what to do with you. Third: what's your name.'
She looked at him with sorrow. 'Delicious One.'
'And I am Angry Bumblebee, the Great Speaker of the Mexica. Nice to meet you.'
From here on, the conversation became both emotional and very informative. Angry Bumblebee learned that in a strange twist of reality, he apparently had been married to this woman as a leader of Tlaxcala (the nation that now existed only in songs of yesteryear, for he got it annexed over a hundred years ago). Together they had conquered the vast continents of Americas and Africa, and taken on the European lands from London to Genoa and from Andalusia to Podolia.
What a game the Gods are playing! He thought. No doubt, it had all been devised by the cunning Lord Eocaitl.
Delicious One in turn learned that all her life was but a dream. It never existed.
‘So I come from the dreams?’ she mused.
‘I dunno,' he shrugged. 'I can take you again as a wife, though.’
Delicious One blushed. She obviously wanted that, having been his wife (the First wife, mind you, the First and Only one) for many centuries even though in what turned out to be the dreamland; but she did not want to be shrugged back into the wifehood. So she did not answer.
Dressed as locals, with Madame Laura's body helping them a great deal to blend in, they made their way out of the capital, heading east all the time. There, Angry Bumblebee said, would be their army, their civilisation, and his household set up in the lands of Italian New Mexico.
‘Your household?’ she asked, instantly tight-lipped.
‘Yeah, my wife and all. No kids though. I don’t need heirs.’ He told her how strong and valiant his army was; how it kicked the Italian butt all over the Peninsula and how it grabbed two provinces from the Papal States in a heartbeat. He also told her about the Rain Warriors, and about his immortality fed by the Lord Geoffrey's dead water dripping deep in a far away Mexican cave, and many other unusual things. She went alongside him nodding and smiling. Because that used to be her reality, too.
And a week later they indeed met the Mexican army.
But not in the valiant state Angry Bumblebee promised.
Because they met their army on what was to become known as the Night of Sorrows.[/color]
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Ah, the Night of Sorrows... sounds a bit... eh, doomladen.
I guess this will hardly mean a victory for Hungry Coyote, but rather the unfortunate demise of Mexica's armies?
Delicious One is brought back into reality from the Matrix... uh, the Dreamland, I mean.
I guess this will hardly mean a victory for Hungry Coyote, but rather the unfortunate demise of Mexica's armies?
Delicious One is brought back into reality from the Matrix... uh, the Dreamland, I mean.
Yeah yeah yeah, blame poor ol' Lord Eochaitl...
Anyway, it's good to see you back Sasha!
Yeah... doomladen, indeed. Bloody Austrians, directed in by the shrewd and wily Judge
BTW, I haven't said something I meant to say for a while - I luuv the different interventions you guys are making! It's a pleasure to read and adjust the story.
Thanks Judas, fusag, Commandante, Eochaid, Gytis! Glad to have you in the story, Gentlemen
Hats off also to the readers
Originally posted by Gaijin de Moscu
Yeah... doomladen, indeed. Bloody Austrians, directed in by the shrewd and wily Judge
Now you made me really curious... What ever have that old pimp been up to?
Originally posted by Gaijin de Moscu
Yeah... doomladen, indeed. Bloody Austrians, directed in by the shrewd and wily Judge
BTW, I haven't said something I meant to say for a while - I luuv the different interventions you guys are making! It's a pleasure to read and adjust the story.
Thanks Judas, fusag, Commandante, Eochaid, Gytis! Glad to have you in the story, Gentlemen
You turn around to stop a Great Speaker from getting whacked in the head, and next thing you know the Austrians are invading. Omnipresent, my foot!
We should thank you for creating this wonderful world to play around in.
[size=large]The Night of Sorrows[/size]
Broken spears lie on the roads.
We pound our hands in despair against our ruined shields,
Howling like wounded animals.
We have torn our hair in grief.
Nothing but flowers and songs of sorrow
Remain in Italian New Mexico…
Our conquest is only a net made of holes!
You, the Giver of Life, have ordained it.
Have You grown weary of Your servants?
[color=66ffff]The war of conquest had begun well. So it seemed: the New Mexico was established on the lands of Ancona and Romagna confiscated from the Papal States. Small Italian nations were collapsing one after another, unable to overcome the wild spirit and iron will – and most importantly, unable to face the unfamiliar cruelty – of the conquerors. To Mexicans, Europeans were simple weeds to be removed from the field. Annoying arrogant weeds naively insisting they had some rights to the land.
And then, the Austrians came from the North. They apparently spoke a different language than the Italians, and paid tribute to a much stronger king. And they had a huge army. Three hordes, each of roughly 35,000 soldiers, advanced onto the New Mexico defended by a mere 12,000 of horse-mounted warriors: all which remained of the mighty landing force.
New people from the North quickly defeated the Mexicans in a single battle and re-took both Romagna and Ancona for the European rule. The wise Hungry Coyote, seeing the enemy’s overwhelming advantage, ordered a withdrawal of his cavalry in good order, and sent word to return the fleet that was sailing towards Sicily on its way to the Serpent of Earth for reinforcement.
He manoeuvred his army out of the potential trap in the South of the Peninsula by destroying the 5,000 of Sienna foot soldiers near Naples, just before the Austrians could come to their help, and making a forced march onto Rome, where he could board the ships much faster than from Italy's eastern shores.
It was at one of the short stops during this forced march that two hungry, smelly, dust-covered voyagers in torn dirty clothes were brought into his camp. Voyagers who spoke fluent Nahuatl and claimed to be the long-lost Great Speaker and his new concubine. The guards who detained them could not verify the claims, for they had never seen the Great Speaker: no one outside of the Royal household had been permitted to raise their eyes above his feet.
The travelers demanded a steam bath immediately on their arrival, followed by a massage, and two slave boys for a cleansing sacrifice.
‘That’s it!’ Hungry Coyote said to Precious Broken Plume after shedding some blood from his earlobes for the glory of Lord Commandantl. ‘I have no doubt now. It’s Angry Bumblebee.’
His daughter, a well-bred Mexican lady, held her emotions in check: ‘With a new concubine.’ She had just offered some of her own blood from the little finger to Lord Flower Prince Fu-sag in gratitude for safely bringing back her husband, and was applying some healing lotion onto the cut.
‘Ah, concubine! For the better, for the better! A man needs many women to remain loyally at home. Be glad: she’ll share your duties.’
‘Father, there are some duties I will never fancy sharing. Let’s stop this conversation.’
So they settled near a bonfire, on straw mats beautifully adorned with blue and green feathers, to wait. Slaves poured hot chocolatl and lit up aromatic tobacco pipes for them.
Hungry Coyote was happy that his son-in-law was returning alive and apparently full of desires. Still, he nervously tapped a finger on his pipe. Each moment spent idly in the camp reduced the distance between him and the Austrians.
This, he did not like.[/color]
Broken spears lie on the roads.
We pound our hands in despair against our ruined shields,
Howling like wounded animals.
We have torn our hair in grief.
Nothing but flowers and songs of sorrow
Remain in Italian New Mexico…
Our conquest is only a net made of holes!
You, the Giver of Life, have ordained it.
Have You grown weary of Your servants?
[color=66ffff]The war of conquest had begun well. So it seemed: the New Mexico was established on the lands of Ancona and Romagna confiscated from the Papal States. Small Italian nations were collapsing one after another, unable to overcome the wild spirit and iron will – and most importantly, unable to face the unfamiliar cruelty – of the conquerors. To Mexicans, Europeans were simple weeds to be removed from the field. Annoying arrogant weeds naively insisting they had some rights to the land.
And then, the Austrians came from the North. They apparently spoke a different language than the Italians, and paid tribute to a much stronger king. And they had a huge army. Three hordes, each of roughly 35,000 soldiers, advanced onto the New Mexico defended by a mere 12,000 of horse-mounted warriors: all which remained of the mighty landing force.
New people from the North quickly defeated the Mexicans in a single battle and re-took both Romagna and Ancona for the European rule. The wise Hungry Coyote, seeing the enemy’s overwhelming advantage, ordered a withdrawal of his cavalry in good order, and sent word to return the fleet that was sailing towards Sicily on its way to the Serpent of Earth for reinforcement.
He manoeuvred his army out of the potential trap in the South of the Peninsula by destroying the 5,000 of Sienna foot soldiers near Naples, just before the Austrians could come to their help, and making a forced march onto Rome, where he could board the ships much faster than from Italy's eastern shores.
It was at one of the short stops during this forced march that two hungry, smelly, dust-covered voyagers in torn dirty clothes were brought into his camp. Voyagers who spoke fluent Nahuatl and claimed to be the long-lost Great Speaker and his new concubine. The guards who detained them could not verify the claims, for they had never seen the Great Speaker: no one outside of the Royal household had been permitted to raise their eyes above his feet.
The travelers demanded a steam bath immediately on their arrival, followed by a massage, and two slave boys for a cleansing sacrifice.
‘That’s it!’ Hungry Coyote said to Precious Broken Plume after shedding some blood from his earlobes for the glory of Lord Commandantl. ‘I have no doubt now. It’s Angry Bumblebee.’
His daughter, a well-bred Mexican lady, held her emotions in check: ‘With a new concubine.’ She had just offered some of her own blood from the little finger to Lord Flower Prince Fu-sag in gratitude for safely bringing back her husband, and was applying some healing lotion onto the cut.
‘Ah, concubine! For the better, for the better! A man needs many women to remain loyally at home. Be glad: she’ll share your duties.’
‘Father, there are some duties I will never fancy sharing. Let’s stop this conversation.’
So they settled near a bonfire, on straw mats beautifully adorned with blue and green feathers, to wait. Slaves poured hot chocolatl and lit up aromatic tobacco pipes for them.
Hungry Coyote was happy that his son-in-law was returning alive and apparently full of desires. Still, he nervously tapped a finger on his pipe. Each moment spent idly in the camp reduced the distance between him and the Austrians.
This, he did not like.[/color]
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Ouch! How will this end? I think it is time for Hungry Coyote to re-group and perhaps... seek some help?
And that earlobe blood. Yummy.
And that earlobe blood. Yummy.
Yes, Hungry Coyote is real Mezika's Napoleon. He managed to evade Austrians armies after that defeat. And was clever enought not to trie sacrifise Bumblebee and Deliciuos One. It wouldn't be bad for king, but not very good for Delicious One. And definetly bad for Angry Coyote after this, couse you would have to say good bye for him, Comanndantl. Lord Gytis would make sure of it.
But will he now run like coyote or fight like honorable wolf?
But will he now run like coyote or fight like honorable wolf?
Eee-xcellent.
Judas' mortal form looked on as the Austrians sweeped through Italy.
"O gracious Lord--"
"Yes, my son?"
"We have taken all the demons' lands in Italy. However, one group of them still survives."
"How?"
"They have a man with them--all our arrows and swords cut him, but cannot kill him."
"The first beast. Comes out of the sea; Mortally wounded, but the wound heals; and he utters blasphemous words. He is given authority to act for forty-two months (that being three years and six months), as spoken in the Book of Revelation. His time shall soon be done."
Judas' mortal form looked on as the Austrians sweeped through Italy.
"O gracious Lord--"
"Yes, my son?"
"We have taken all the demons' lands in Italy. However, one group of them still survives."
"How?"
"They have a man with them--all our arrows and swords cut him, but cannot kill him."
"The first beast. Comes out of the sea; Mortally wounded, but the wound heals; and he utters blasphemous words. He is given authority to act for forty-two months (that being three years and six months), as spoken in the Book of Revelation. His time shall soon be done."
And just when I thought the story couldn't get any more convoluted.
It’s a great read and kudos for all the authors. Joe
Lord Flower Prince Fu-sag sat in the Place-Which-Is-Not-A-Place, sipping some chocolatl. How was I supposed to know that Angry Bumblebee would take to Delicious One so strongly. Concubine, forsooth! He took another sip. Remember, if Precious Broken Plume asks where Delicious One came from, "Mum"'s the word, eh? Another sip. Oh, wise Father? Oh, great Master T? Why did you create the humans with jealousy as great as the gods themselves?
The answer resounded in his head: I work in mysterious ways.
Fui.
The answer resounded in his head: I work in mysterious ways.
Fui.
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A River of Sorrow
Hungry Coyote felt how the tobacco dulled his senses. He slid down to a more comfortable, slouching position and casually puffed his pipe.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. We’re fighting an enemy far superior to us, losing scores of Mexica’s warriors and what have our long lost Great Speaker been doing? Naturally, he has spent his time getting a new concubine. How’s that for setting your priorities straight. But who am I to question him?
“Indeed, who are you to question him? He has led you this far, to the pleasure of me and my brothers, yes even to the pleasure of Master T himself!”
You are of course correct; he is my master and a wise one at that. A bit rash though…
Hungry Coyote sat up straight.
“Who said that?” He demanded. Precious Broken Plume was sleeping on the mat beside him and the servants were gone. Hungry Coyote could feel every hair on his body rising, part from the familiar static ambience in the air and part from reverence.
Of course.
“Mohohohoo...” The voice chuckled. “You are a man of my taste, Hungry Coyote. Your enemies are closing in on you from all directions but one, your lost leader returns and your own daughter dare defy you. But what do you do? You smoke a pipe.”
Hungry Coyote spotted the voice’s source. A small frog sat right beneath him. The warm glow from the campfire reached out, as if gently stroking the frog’s back. Its sapphire blue skin rippled with shades of blue in a cordial response.
“My Lord, I salute you.” Hungry Coyote held his right fist to his heart and nodded to Lord Commandantl in deep veneration.
If anything, my Lord does enjoy to surprise me.
“Yes, that is true, my plaything. I’ve always thought that speaking to my underlings in persona grants a better – how shall I say – response than any spectacular doomsday event can render.”
“My Lord, I beg your forgiveness. For everything.”
“Forgiveness? If only a greater number of our playthings would choose the soft caress of a pipe instead of being so prone to end their life in the dark, cold arms of Mistress Obsidian. There is nothing to forgive, my dear plaything. How could you have been expected to foresee the unleashed hordes of Lord Maccabeus? These ‘Austrians’ as he has decided to call them, are a bunch of pale, bloated and ignorant servants to his will.”
“We tried to fight them, my Lord, we gave you countless cactus fruits to turn the tides of war but… but our offerings to you were insignificant… we failed.” Hungry Coyote felt salty tears streaming down his cheeks. “We – I – failed you.”
“Hohohohoho.” The frog chuckled again. “Yes, I know, my plaything, I know. You fought valiantly and that is also the reason why you failed. When they wanted battle, you presented yourself. When they wanted retreat, you were invisible. When they wanted room for manoeuvre, you stood back.”
“Yes, my Lord? Mexica fights with honour.” Hungry Coyote replied, although somewhat puzzled.
“But whomever is to uphold your honour when all of you are dying, ripped apart on the fields of battle? When birds and rodents feed from your rotting flesh? Where will then your honour be?”
“Our honour… it…”
“This is what you will do, my dear plaything: When they want battle, be invisible. When they want retreat, present yourself. When they want to manoeuvre, stand in their way.”
“I see, my Lord. Mexica will play by Mexica’s rules and none other’s.” Once again, Hungry Coyote bowed his head to the frog.
“Your mind is quick, Coyote. Let your Great Speaker depart for Sicily and let him arrange for Mexica’s second coming to these lands. Until then, you will stay in New Mexico with my Rainwarriors. Don’t give our enemies a quiet moment. Never let them believe they’ve won. That is how we will steal their victory right under Lord Maccabeus nose.” The frog paused and studied Hungry Coyote’s features with its big eyes. “Let those tears on your cheeks forever be the symbol to prove your mission, my dear plaything. On the Night of Sorrows, there flowed a River of Sorrow.”
Hungry Coyote took a piece of mirror glass and looked at his ancient face. The tears that had streamed down his face had dried and turned sapphire blue. They had merged with his skin, adorning his face with a blue river of tears.
“Now up and at it!” The frog took one leap straight into the glowing bonfire and disappeared in one big splash of water that doused the flames.
On the Night of Sorrows, there flowed a River of Sorrow.
With the fire gone, darkness enveloped Mexica’s greatest warrior. His vision however, was clearer than ever.
Hungry Coyote felt how the tobacco dulled his senses. He slid down to a more comfortable, slouching position and casually puffed his pipe.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. We’re fighting an enemy far superior to us, losing scores of Mexica’s warriors and what have our long lost Great Speaker been doing? Naturally, he has spent his time getting a new concubine. How’s that for setting your priorities straight. But who am I to question him?
“Indeed, who are you to question him? He has led you this far, to the pleasure of me and my brothers, yes even to the pleasure of Master T himself!”
You are of course correct; he is my master and a wise one at that. A bit rash though…
Hungry Coyote sat up straight.
“Who said that?” He demanded. Precious Broken Plume was sleeping on the mat beside him and the servants were gone. Hungry Coyote could feel every hair on his body rising, part from the familiar static ambience in the air and part from reverence.
Of course.
“Mohohohoo...” The voice chuckled. “You are a man of my taste, Hungry Coyote. Your enemies are closing in on you from all directions but one, your lost leader returns and your own daughter dare defy you. But what do you do? You smoke a pipe.”
Hungry Coyote spotted the voice’s source. A small frog sat right beneath him. The warm glow from the campfire reached out, as if gently stroking the frog’s back. Its sapphire blue skin rippled with shades of blue in a cordial response.
“My Lord, I salute you.” Hungry Coyote held his right fist to his heart and nodded to Lord Commandantl in deep veneration.
If anything, my Lord does enjoy to surprise me.
“Yes, that is true, my plaything. I’ve always thought that speaking to my underlings in persona grants a better – how shall I say – response than any spectacular doomsday event can render.”
“My Lord, I beg your forgiveness. For everything.”
“Forgiveness? If only a greater number of our playthings would choose the soft caress of a pipe instead of being so prone to end their life in the dark, cold arms of Mistress Obsidian. There is nothing to forgive, my dear plaything. How could you have been expected to foresee the unleashed hordes of Lord Maccabeus? These ‘Austrians’ as he has decided to call them, are a bunch of pale, bloated and ignorant servants to his will.”
“We tried to fight them, my Lord, we gave you countless cactus fruits to turn the tides of war but… but our offerings to you were insignificant… we failed.” Hungry Coyote felt salty tears streaming down his cheeks. “We – I – failed you.”
“Hohohohoho.” The frog chuckled again. “Yes, I know, my plaything, I know. You fought valiantly and that is also the reason why you failed. When they wanted battle, you presented yourself. When they wanted retreat, you were invisible. When they wanted room for manoeuvre, you stood back.”
“Yes, my Lord? Mexica fights with honour.” Hungry Coyote replied, although somewhat puzzled.
“But whomever is to uphold your honour when all of you are dying, ripped apart on the fields of battle? When birds and rodents feed from your rotting flesh? Where will then your honour be?”
“Our honour… it…”
“This is what you will do, my dear plaything: When they want battle, be invisible. When they want retreat, present yourself. When they want to manoeuvre, stand in their way.”
“I see, my Lord. Mexica will play by Mexica’s rules and none other’s.” Once again, Hungry Coyote bowed his head to the frog.
“Your mind is quick, Coyote. Let your Great Speaker depart for Sicily and let him arrange for Mexica’s second coming to these lands. Until then, you will stay in New Mexico with my Rainwarriors. Don’t give our enemies a quiet moment. Never let them believe they’ve won. That is how we will steal their victory right under Lord Maccabeus nose.” The frog paused and studied Hungry Coyote’s features with its big eyes. “Let those tears on your cheeks forever be the symbol to prove your mission, my dear plaything. On the Night of Sorrows, there flowed a River of Sorrow.”
Hungry Coyote took a piece of mirror glass and looked at his ancient face. The tears that had streamed down his face had dried and turned sapphire blue. They had merged with his skin, adorning his face with a blue river of tears.
“Now up and at it!” The frog took one leap straight into the glowing bonfire and disappeared in one big splash of water that doused the flames.
On the Night of Sorrows, there flowed a River of Sorrow.
With the fire gone, darkness enveloped Mexica’s greatest warrior. His vision however, was clearer than ever.
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