Ianmey7
TNPer
The Sea was a welcome respite from a typical life. She brought freedom, yet she was also a cruel mistress. I had been at sea for over a month, there were storms, scurvy, and even a duel or two. I thought I was going to go insane trying to keep my crew together, but then I saw the first Suavidici city. I paused for a moment, the city was huge, I had never seen such thick walls as we made our approach. When we made port, the Priest we brought with asked the locals if we were in Suavidicum. Surely a city this large would be the capital of this far off land.
The locals told us that we were three days' ride from the Capital, meaning it would be less than a day by sea. We were instructed to follow the coast and when we saw the domes we would know we had arrived. At the time, I laughed. When we arrived at the seat of Imperial power, I understood what they had meant.
The City of Suavidicum’s skyline looked like a mountain range. The domes of Basilicas were only matched by the grand Imperial palace. The mighty city of cities stretched far into the distance as my crew sailed in.
Aqueducts ran for what looked like miles in every direction, the buildings were a colorful combination of reds, blues, and oranges. I noticed tile rooftops as far as the eye could see, like an ocean of a pale orange.
Ships sailed in and out of the great harbor, flags represented all great nations of the world. They were all coming to what the Suavidici called the “Urbs e Urbs.” or the City of Cities. As I docked an official came to my ship, the Priest we brought with spoke with the man for a brief moment as I took stock of my surroundings.
A giant Golden Eagle was perched at the top of the gate that led into the city. The Priest said that this was the gate of Neptune. I couldn’t help but laugh at the bit of irony of these pagans. They spoke the church's language, they even called their god Deus, but it was all a mockery of our faith.
As we walked through the great gate we came upon a vast market. Stalls were littered all over with seemingly little order to their placement. Along the edges tall apartments had shops placed on at their base giving some families a distinct advantage to their competitors.
I had heard of the great markets of Palaputra and other great cities, and surely this was a contender for the greatest. I saw merchants selling spices, silks, chickens, vegetables, weapons, armor, and the most ornate glass I had ever seen.
Gold flew from hand to hand as people rushed to buy and sell. The wealth of the whole of the Aurorias seemed to flow in and out of this great city.
“Father, what do the locals call this place?” I asked the Priest.
After a brief conversation with our attendants, the priest turned back around and said.
“This is Arulians market, it is located on what the locals call a forum.” The Priest had to yell over the crowd.
The people of the Imperial capital seemed to be indifferent to the foreigners that flooded into their city. I saw merchants from all over the old world and this new continent going from stall to stall as they looked for new wares to sell back home. They would wave for my men and I to come over to their stalls.
“Veni huc Varangio!”
The officials that were accompanying us waved them off, apparently anyone who wanted to trade in the Imperium had to go through a meeting with the administration. I didn’t mind the walk through the city however. Statues marked the entrances to bridges, their emperors looking down on those who would make their way through the Imperial city. Grand arches marked the way to the Imperial palace, these arches showed the conquest of the vast territories of the Imperium. The most impressive structures were the buildings that were devoted to public entertainment.
We were passing a large building called the Julian Amphitheater and the priest seemed to pause for a moment before he switched back into Gojan.
“This is where they have people fight to the death for entertainment.” The priest looked at the massive structure and made a sign of the crucifix.
I looked at the building and saw the purple banners that waved gently in the warm winds. Back home I heard myths of vikings that went to a vast shining empire in the east where people fought to the death in front of the masses and it was a myth, until those Vivancan and Syrixian explorers found this land.
“Father.” I said.
“Yes, my son?” The priest responded.
“You said that we’re heading to the Imperial palace, why are we walking in the opposite direction?” I asked the priest.
“They mentioned that they wanted to show us a tour of their Imperial city. I imagine they are trying to dazzle us with their glorious city.”
That's when a man in armor came to the ministers with a message.
“Imperator est in Hippodromo*.”
“Eu!” The minister said and they directed the group to follow them into a nearby building.
Building is an understatement. Based on the roar of the crowds as we approached You would have thought that the entire population of the city were present.
The guldied pillars that greeted us as we entered the structure let us know we were entering the private box of the Imperator. Golden lions guarded the marble steps to the box. At each landing of the staircase a man dressed as a viking stood at attention.
I paused as I looked at these men, the Varagnians were supposed to be a myth. Yet here was one of them standing in front of me. They blocked our path and spoke to us in an old, yet understandable accent.
“Only two.”
The priest and I stepped forward.
“Go.”
The ministers prompted us to move forward. Stepping into the Imperial box I could see the entirety of the structure. Thousands of people were cheering, blue and green banners waving as chariots raced around the track. People walked up and down the stairs selling what looked like food to the thousands of people who would stand and cheer as the riders moved past them. In the middle of the track a structure made of marble marked where racers could not pass.
The inside of the box was a completely different spectacle. The Imperator was laying on purple cushions, servants were fanning him as he spoke to the numerous women that surrounded him. A mosaic Eagle on the floor brought the point home about how the Imperator viewed himself.
A herald stood at the entrance to the room.
“Praesenti: Imperator Constantine Marcus Lucius: Magni Caesar, Filius DEUS, Deorum Vindicem Terrae, Rex Regnum, Caesar Sanctae Urbis Suavidicae Augustus, Perniciosa E Ephyra, Maria in Domino,Rex Akhi’Duta, Rex Atoijak, Dominus Auroria, Pater E Kyllian, Dominus Universi, Rex E Epiphanes, Ille Coronae Aureae, Victoris E Palmyra, Pontifex Maximus, Primo Consularnum, et Primo Tribunus!”
“Dominus.” The minister said to the Imperator.
“Si?” The Emperor did not even turn around.
“Ego tibi offero ille Gojani.” The minister bowed.
The Imperator turned, he was an old man. He had a white beard and a scar down one side of his face. He wore a purple toga and golden laurel crown.
“Ei Varangio?” The Emperor commanded.
“Si Dominus.”
The emperor spoke in a very accented and old form of Gojan.
“Welcome to my city. Please, join me as we watch the race.” The Emperor said.
The Priest and I sat down and were immediately met with food, and drink. The Imperator’s servants were sure to give us all we needed.
“Vinum?” They asked.
“Si.” The Priest responded.
“They are giving us wine, take some.”
Drinking was something that I did not need an excuse to do. Life on the sea was hard so something to take the edge off was sometimes needed. I knew it was a bad habit, but being around sailors for years leads to some bad habits.
The race ended and the Blue section of the Hippodrome erupted with cheers. Bells rang and the crowds began to clear out. The Imperator stood and his attendants told us to follow as it was time to go to the Palace.
The Varangians made up the outer guard of the Imperator, his inner guard however were even more impressive. Mail masks and steel helmets made all of these men look the same. Purple capes with gold trims flew in the slight breeze as they marched next to their Imperator.
We passed through arches, and crossed bridges as we made our way to the Palace. The Palace itself had a gatehouse that matched the entrances to many of the cities on Gothis.
“Gentlemen, you will be staying in the visitors quarters. I will take you there, the Imperial court will meet with you tomorrow. We will bring you food in a few hours. The Imperator hopes that you enjoy Suavidici hospitality.” An attendant said.
As we entered the visitors complex we realized what Suavidici hospitality meant. There were mosaics on the wall depicting Suavidicum in its development. Laurel leaves hung from pillars. The view of the city and ocean could bring a man to tears.
What could these people want from us?
The locals told us that we were three days' ride from the Capital, meaning it would be less than a day by sea. We were instructed to follow the coast and when we saw the domes we would know we had arrived. At the time, I laughed. When we arrived at the seat of Imperial power, I understood what they had meant.
The City of Suavidicum’s skyline looked like a mountain range. The domes of Basilicas were only matched by the grand Imperial palace. The mighty city of cities stretched far into the distance as my crew sailed in.
Aqueducts ran for what looked like miles in every direction, the buildings were a colorful combination of reds, blues, and oranges. I noticed tile rooftops as far as the eye could see, like an ocean of a pale orange.
Ships sailed in and out of the great harbor, flags represented all great nations of the world. They were all coming to what the Suavidici called the “Urbs e Urbs.” or the City of Cities. As I docked an official came to my ship, the Priest we brought with spoke with the man for a brief moment as I took stock of my surroundings.
A giant Golden Eagle was perched at the top of the gate that led into the city. The Priest said that this was the gate of Neptune. I couldn’t help but laugh at the bit of irony of these pagans. They spoke the church's language, they even called their god Deus, but it was all a mockery of our faith.
As we walked through the great gate we came upon a vast market. Stalls were littered all over with seemingly little order to their placement. Along the edges tall apartments had shops placed on at their base giving some families a distinct advantage to their competitors.
I had heard of the great markets of Palaputra and other great cities, and surely this was a contender for the greatest. I saw merchants selling spices, silks, chickens, vegetables, weapons, armor, and the most ornate glass I had ever seen.
Gold flew from hand to hand as people rushed to buy and sell. The wealth of the whole of the Aurorias seemed to flow in and out of this great city.
“Father, what do the locals call this place?” I asked the Priest.
After a brief conversation with our attendants, the priest turned back around and said.
“This is Arulians market, it is located on what the locals call a forum.” The Priest had to yell over the crowd.
The people of the Imperial capital seemed to be indifferent to the foreigners that flooded into their city. I saw merchants from all over the old world and this new continent going from stall to stall as they looked for new wares to sell back home. They would wave for my men and I to come over to their stalls.
“Veni huc Varangio!”
The officials that were accompanying us waved them off, apparently anyone who wanted to trade in the Imperium had to go through a meeting with the administration. I didn’t mind the walk through the city however. Statues marked the entrances to bridges, their emperors looking down on those who would make their way through the Imperial city. Grand arches marked the way to the Imperial palace, these arches showed the conquest of the vast territories of the Imperium. The most impressive structures were the buildings that were devoted to public entertainment.
We were passing a large building called the Julian Amphitheater and the priest seemed to pause for a moment before he switched back into Gojan.
“This is where they have people fight to the death for entertainment.” The priest looked at the massive structure and made a sign of the crucifix.
I looked at the building and saw the purple banners that waved gently in the warm winds. Back home I heard myths of vikings that went to a vast shining empire in the east where people fought to the death in front of the masses and it was a myth, until those Vivancan and Syrixian explorers found this land.
“Father.” I said.
“Yes, my son?” The priest responded.
“You said that we’re heading to the Imperial palace, why are we walking in the opposite direction?” I asked the priest.
“They mentioned that they wanted to show us a tour of their Imperial city. I imagine they are trying to dazzle us with their glorious city.”
That's when a man in armor came to the ministers with a message.
“Imperator est in Hippodromo*.”
“Eu!” The minister said and they directed the group to follow them into a nearby building.
Building is an understatement. Based on the roar of the crowds as we approached You would have thought that the entire population of the city were present.
The guldied pillars that greeted us as we entered the structure let us know we were entering the private box of the Imperator. Golden lions guarded the marble steps to the box. At each landing of the staircase a man dressed as a viking stood at attention.
I paused as I looked at these men, the Varagnians were supposed to be a myth. Yet here was one of them standing in front of me. They blocked our path and spoke to us in an old, yet understandable accent.
“Only two.”
The priest and I stepped forward.
“Go.”
The ministers prompted us to move forward. Stepping into the Imperial box I could see the entirety of the structure. Thousands of people were cheering, blue and green banners waving as chariots raced around the track. People walked up and down the stairs selling what looked like food to the thousands of people who would stand and cheer as the riders moved past them. In the middle of the track a structure made of marble marked where racers could not pass.
The inside of the box was a completely different spectacle. The Imperator was laying on purple cushions, servants were fanning him as he spoke to the numerous women that surrounded him. A mosaic Eagle on the floor brought the point home about how the Imperator viewed himself.
A herald stood at the entrance to the room.
“Praesenti: Imperator Constantine Marcus Lucius: Magni Caesar, Filius DEUS, Deorum Vindicem Terrae, Rex Regnum, Caesar Sanctae Urbis Suavidicae Augustus, Perniciosa E Ephyra, Maria in Domino,Rex Akhi’Duta, Rex Atoijak, Dominus Auroria, Pater E Kyllian, Dominus Universi, Rex E Epiphanes, Ille Coronae Aureae, Victoris E Palmyra, Pontifex Maximus, Primo Consularnum, et Primo Tribunus!”
“Dominus.” The minister said to the Imperator.
“Si?” The Emperor did not even turn around.
“Ego tibi offero ille Gojani.” The minister bowed.
The Imperator turned, he was an old man. He had a white beard and a scar down one side of his face. He wore a purple toga and golden laurel crown.
“Ei Varangio?” The Emperor commanded.
“Si Dominus.”
The emperor spoke in a very accented and old form of Gojan.
“Welcome to my city. Please, join me as we watch the race.” The Emperor said.
The Priest and I sat down and were immediately met with food, and drink. The Imperator’s servants were sure to give us all we needed.
“Vinum?” They asked.
“Si.” The Priest responded.
“They are giving us wine, take some.”
Drinking was something that I did not need an excuse to do. Life on the sea was hard so something to take the edge off was sometimes needed. I knew it was a bad habit, but being around sailors for years leads to some bad habits.
The race ended and the Blue section of the Hippodrome erupted with cheers. Bells rang and the crowds began to clear out. The Imperator stood and his attendants told us to follow as it was time to go to the Palace.
The Varangians made up the outer guard of the Imperator, his inner guard however were even more impressive. Mail masks and steel helmets made all of these men look the same. Purple capes with gold trims flew in the slight breeze as they marched next to their Imperator.
We passed through arches, and crossed bridges as we made our way to the Palace. The Palace itself had a gatehouse that matched the entrances to many of the cities on Gothis.
“Gentlemen, you will be staying in the visitors quarters. I will take you there, the Imperial court will meet with you tomorrow. We will bring you food in a few hours. The Imperator hopes that you enjoy Suavidici hospitality.” An attendant said.
As we entered the visitors complex we realized what Suavidici hospitality meant. There were mosaics on the wall depicting Suavidicum in its development. Laurel leaves hung from pillars. The view of the city and ocean could bring a man to tears.
What could these people want from us?