Shifting Sands

[Derk]

Ooc: Will update tomorrow.

Antonius sipped his wine slowly. It was a good brew, made of Etrurian grapes. He had a meeting with the other two Nabatan heads later today. Leaving good wine and his favoritre mistress was not something he relished the chance to do. In fact he relished the chanced. Pitra ran her hands down his chest from behind him, but still he stood from the bed. "Where do you go My Father?" That style of adress, while flattering from a man, often offended his morals from a woman he'd previoulsy slept with, or planned to. Someday soon, a wife worthy of a god would be found for him. Then he would have a daughter, hence his repulsion. Setting his wine down, he turned to where she twisted seductively on the bed. This was difficult to find disgusting. Pitra was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, as well as the only mistress who's thoughts he'd taken the time to seek. She'd been born a priestess of Moloch, a virgin priestess mind. But what a god wants...

A god takes. Even a lower god. His "Divine Name" was Rahmin To younger son of Lein Fur. HIs elder brother, Cato, was the god Atem Ra meaning all sun. Antonius was the son of the harvest. He'd been destined for being a general, with days spent in hard marches and hot days, followed by midnight watches and cold sleep. His brother had died six months ago, and now his destiny had changed. The son of the harvest had risen to the sun of the evening. The general had risen to a king. Now, his days were small matters of state, and large matters outside. They were gourmet feasts, and training how he wished. His nights were filled with music, drink, and women. It was good to be the king. It was better to be a god.

The god slipped on his undershirt. "I believe a prominent topic of conversation last night was that I'd be meeting the other heads of the oasis'? Or could you not hear me over that overweight captain's plagiarized Poetry?"

[Selibas]

Tizoc, the Ajaw of the Mazras walked through the city of Nok, surrounded by the guards he'd brought from Juffure. There were nine in total, all representing his lesser priests. They were all the same size, exactly. It was a tradition of the Mazras. They were a proud people, who'd always been superior to the Nilians and the Percausians in terms of military. Ever since the peace had started fourteen years ago, his people had gotten restless. He had gotten restless. He thought of simply striking one of the other Oasis'. The cowards would probably confine themselves to their walls, and he had not the siege power of the Percausians. He'd sent raid parties against the Yrahs, but only two parties had ever come back.

The city was uselessly ornate. It showed how soft the Nilians had clearly grown in the past generations. The young pharaoh had a much smaller palace than Tizoc had, he should build a new one. It showed your people how stern you were.

When he reached the palace, a group of men took him to a meeting room with a small table and three large chairs, two of them on elevated platforms facing a lower one. The lower chair was where Antonius sat waiting for the other heads. Tizoc nodded to him and took one of the others, grabbing a goblet off the table and pouring himself some whine. It was Etrurian, he preferred Lycian. Everything about this city angered him.