Posted 12 April 2012 - 08:47 PM
The first day of what became known as The Election of the Defterdar passed without much event. When I look through the day's reports, I can only find that a prostitute was harassed and that trading was rather frantic in the Quarter of the Coin. My dinner with Adnan proved equally uneventful, but when night fell, I returned to the Southern Terrace and stared out over my City.
Looking East, the view from the palace has no equal. Slightly to the North of the east-west axis stands the walled enclave of the Mahesh. Beyond that, slightly to the south, outside of the walls, the unfinished sphinx of the temple complex of the newly arrived Nepeth rises. Between the two, even further in the distance, the Jewel's Mirror shimmers, the gargantuan oasis that gives life to Madeena al-Salaam.
My thoughts returned to my discussion with Adnan about the leader of the Moonlit Gang. Once a bandit, now a prophet. A leader of thieves, or rather, an enforcer amidst them. He and I are not unalike, save that my tyranny lasts longer, and on a grander scale. Is that something to be proud of? Because I no longer feel that way. One day, I vow, I will ask him, and sit down, tyrant to tyrant. If we both last long enough to meet, of course.
Where I tamed the ancient feuding factions of Madeena, he brought order amongst them. A turf for you, a turf for him, a little tax in return. Arbitration in conflicts. And immunity from the Law, immunity from me, by hiding in the enclave of the Mahesh. As their leader. I've walked the enclave once. Twenty thousand people in a quarter big enough for maybe a sixth of that number. I demolished the buildings around it, creating a square, thinking I would be petitioned soon by the God's Own People, as they call themselves, for expansion. I'd charge them a little, a minor land tax. Open their doors to my assessors. Maybe institute a court of law for disputes between Mahesh and non-Mahesh. It never came to be. Twenty seven thousand of them now, they think. Pigs play in the dirt of the square I reserved for them. But I hope, that one day, those walls come down, that their God becomes one amongst many.
Further on, the thread of the Nepeth. Ever building, ever expanding, ever tilling more fields. Ever making more friends. I have no wish to think of the Nepeth tonight. My eyes pick up movement, far away. Thieves on the prowl, and darker things, even. The Tower above the Precipice is dark. The Terror of the Night is out there, dark magic at his fingertips. The Night Prophet, too, may be involved, although on which side of the conflict? With him, it is never simple. Flying carpets circle the buildings of the Cult and its university. And what of the House of Iron? What is their plan? They're very quiet, but they're also ibn Qolats oldest allies, Gold and Steel working in accord.
I retire, and feel the city stir beneath me. Ancient magic slumbers, but is ready to be called upon. And nine chains of the Councillors sit on nine plush cushions at the feet of my throne, waiting for chests to rest upon.
No-one has died. I will now send out PMs.
Only someone with this much power could make this many frittatas without breaking any eggs.
Help
Atrahal, on 12 April 2012 - 06:22 PM, said:
oh no!! you got your eye on me!?!?
