In the five hundred and seventy sixth year of the Golden Suzeraincy, during the reign of Ibrahim the Seventh, The Just and Truthful, Scrouge of the Barbarian Wastes, Defender Of The Faithful, Marshall of The Three Great Seas, Arch Duke of the Vassal Kingdoms and Prime-Hierach Elect to the Free States, Who sat upon the Carmine Throne Of Ulrich - Father of his Line and Uniter of His People - I was offically assigned as Vizier-Archiver to his lesser-son, Sulemain Constantine.
Our first meeting took place at his father's summer palace in Lisbon. The palace's indentured AI informed me that I was to find him in the rooftop gardens.
During the reign of Ibrahim VII the gardens of the Summer Palace served as a continuation of his trophy rooms. At that time, before the North American campaigns, and the Great War of Pacification, The Suzeraincy merely extended from Oslo in the North to Harare in the South, and from the Atlantic coast of the Iberian Peninsula to the heights of the Himalayas.
The Gardens of the Summer palace recreated hundreds of climates, each populated with specimens taken from each corner of the Suzeraincy. It was in a balmly, humid glass house - apparently simulating those conditions found in the Congolese Protecterate - that I made my first meeting with Sulemain Constantine.
I was unsure what to expect. As I approached, I was deepscanned - interrogation software deep punching through my core and leaving me momentarily dazed - by the Close Protection Drones that swung sullenly about their orbits, mapping out an unseen perimter around Sulemain.
The drones were ugly looking angular lumps of dull grey impact-plastic, weapon blisters bulging upon their surfaces like mishappen knuckles on an old boxer's fists.
Throughout my time with Sulemain, I resented these drone's insistence on deep scanning me upon each arrival, and at random intervals throughout my attendance with Sulemain, despite the trusted-retainer status of my AI documentation..
Such security was to be expected however, despite Sulemain's lesser son status. As a son of the Ibrahim VII, he was to be protected at all times. He would never assume high office, that would be reserved for an Heir Legitimate, one of Ibrahim's sons from an official court marriage but his position as a favoured son would ensure that he would hold a high rank in the Diplomatic Corp or as an officer in the military.
A rare prize for Ibrahim's enemies. My role in Sulemain's entourage was to act as tutor and provide diplomatic and protocol assistance during a survey and assesment of the recently acquired lands between the Black and Caspian seas, which had been won during the Twenty Day Conflict.
Sulemain was almost beginning his eighteenth year, and had expressed interest in becoming an officer of the Jannisary Regiments. Ibrahim had decided that an oppurtunity to survey the scenes of their most recent victories would prove of interest to the boy.
Sulemain Constantine seemed unremarkable enough at first glance, one of the many bastard sons that Ibrahim managed to sire, lucky enough to have been recognised and accepted by his (in the matter of fatherhood) somewhat negliegent father.
He had the slim build characteristic to the males of the Line Of Ulrich. His unruly dark hair and fine boned features he took from his mother (The Countessa-minor Maria Segolene - raised from the harem in the five hundred and sixty ninth year of the Golden Suzeraincy by Ibrahim VII). From first impressions, whilst I attempted to supress the after effects of inquistion=stress from the drones' scans and struggled with the humid climate, I took him to be a young man content to live out his days quietly as a minor prince within the Suzeraincy, his life likely to be entirely unremarkable.
At worse, he would cause some fleeting scandal, perhaps deflower a visiting diplomat's virgin daughter; At best, he would achieve some renown as a diplomat or general of some talent.
More likely he would spend his days bored and at leisure. The event's that followed would prove my initial assesment sorely wrong.
Our first meeting took place at his father's summer palace in Lisbon. The palace's indentured AI informed me that I was to find him in the rooftop gardens.
During the reign of Ibrahim VII the gardens of the Summer Palace served as a continuation of his trophy rooms. At that time, before the North American campaigns, and the Great War of Pacification, The Suzeraincy merely extended from Oslo in the North to Harare in the South, and from the Atlantic coast of the Iberian Peninsula to the heights of the Himalayas.
The Gardens of the Summer palace recreated hundreds of climates, each populated with specimens taken from each corner of the Suzeraincy. It was in a balmly, humid glass house - apparently simulating those conditions found in the Congolese Protecterate - that I made my first meeting with Sulemain Constantine.
I was unsure what to expect. As I approached, I was deepscanned - interrogation software deep punching through my core and leaving me momentarily dazed - by the Close Protection Drones that swung sullenly about their orbits, mapping out an unseen perimter around Sulemain.
The drones were ugly looking angular lumps of dull grey impact-plastic, weapon blisters bulging upon their surfaces like mishappen knuckles on an old boxer's fists.
Throughout my time with Sulemain, I resented these drone's insistence on deep scanning me upon each arrival, and at random intervals throughout my attendance with Sulemain, despite the trusted-retainer status of my AI documentation..
Such security was to be expected however, despite Sulemain's lesser son status. As a son of the Ibrahim VII, he was to be protected at all times. He would never assume high office, that would be reserved for an Heir Legitimate, one of Ibrahim's sons from an official court marriage but his position as a favoured son would ensure that he would hold a high rank in the Diplomatic Corp or as an officer in the military.
A rare prize for Ibrahim's enemies. My role in Sulemain's entourage was to act as tutor and provide diplomatic and protocol assistance during a survey and assesment of the recently acquired lands between the Black and Caspian seas, which had been won during the Twenty Day Conflict.
Sulemain was almost beginning his eighteenth year, and had expressed interest in becoming an officer of the Jannisary Regiments. Ibrahim had decided that an oppurtunity to survey the scenes of their most recent victories would prove of interest to the boy.
Sulemain Constantine seemed unremarkable enough at first glance, one of the many bastard sons that Ibrahim managed to sire, lucky enough to have been recognised and accepted by his (in the matter of fatherhood) somewhat negliegent father.
He had the slim build characteristic to the males of the Line Of Ulrich. His unruly dark hair and fine boned features he took from his mother (The Countessa-minor Maria Segolene - raised from the harem in the five hundred and sixty ninth year of the Golden Suzeraincy by Ibrahim VII). From first impressions, whilst I attempted to supress the after effects of inquistion=stress from the drones' scans and struggled with the humid climate, I took him to be a young man content to live out his days quietly as a minor prince within the Suzeraincy, his life likely to be entirely unremarkable.
At worse, he would cause some fleeting scandal, perhaps deflower a visiting diplomat's virgin daughter; At best, he would achieve some renown as a diplomat or general of some talent.
More likely he would spend his days bored and at leisure. The event's that followed would prove my initial assesment sorely wrong.
hermes:
Ok, now I'm intrigued... 