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Intrigue floated by in the evening air. It was after dark and the Vatican Museums had shut their doors. Luckily, Umbrielle had discovered a disused service entrance. So, smiling to herself and crouched behind a stack of mouldering crates, she lifted her hand towards the door. Nondescript metal and adorned with a scratched sign reading ‘Solo Dipendenti - Vietato l’Accesso,’ it was hardly an auspicious portal to the biggest moment of her ten years of life. However, the smallest things can prophesy greater ones to come. Umbrielle turned the handle and caught a brief glimpse of the room beyond - stone statues, stone-faced museum guards, mice skittering across the floor - before she felt the strange sensation of being pulled through the door. It closed with a bang of finality.
Hanging low in the sky like a shield ready for battle, the russet sun bathed the sky in a bloody red light which soon faded into oppressive grey. Not a single trace of life existed, and nothing blocked the mournful wailing of the wind across the flat plain except for the jagged, rocks which protruded from the ground like broken teeth. And the statues. Chipped marble figures petrified in dramatic poses as they slowly weathered away. There was something tragic about their luminous white forms which, over the aeons, had slowly been coated in a thin grey dust from the windswept plains.
Umbrielle blinked. She turned around, but the ‘Vietato l’Accesso’ door was gone. Perhaps rule-following does have its advantages, she mused. Then she quickly pushed away the thought. There were no other living things in sight - the only way out was to make her own rules. The sun had almost entirely disappeared below the horizon, staining the plain a harsh red. In a few minutes it would be completely gone.
Umbrielle tried to find a way out. She wanted to return to the Vatican Museums before the sun had completely set to give enough time to plunder them. As it began to dip closer to the horizon, however, it was only her iron will which kept her from panicking. That was when she noticed the rock. It was indistinguishable from the other jagged shapes around her except for by the faint writing etched into its surface.
You have entered the glorious Empire of the Renatus and therefore must abide by these three laws:
You are currently in Nusquam Territory. As for all territories, you must abide by its laws.
You may pass between territories freely, however you may never leave the Empire.
The Emperor is always right. Always.
As decreed by Emperor A. Claudius Portens Certus, first year of the glorious Empire of the Renatus.
Well, that was very comforting.
It was completely dark now, a curtain of blackness punctured by thousands of watchful eyes. Umbrielle had never seen stars so bright before. They-
Something was moving. A flicker, in the corner of her vision. It was moving towards her, slowly, cautiously. Soon, the dark shape resolved itself into two figures, but she quickly realised they were not human…
On the left stood one of the warrior statues from earlier, dust-streaked marble and adorned with a plumed marble helmet which looked about three sizes too large. His face looked somehow rough, inexpertly carved, with a nose like some kind of small, squishy vegetable. On the right was a statue of a boy who only looked a few years older than her, with a round marble face. He was dressed in a tunic which seemed three sizes too large. And they were both moving, as naturally and fluidly as a human might move.
“Halt!” Yelled the one on the left. (Actually, what he yelled was “Fermati!” Umbrielle was lucky she spoke Italian.) “I am Titus Claudius Fortis, son of Emperor Aulus Claudius Portens Certus! Who goes there?”
Hanging low in the sky like a shield ready for battle, the russet sun bathed the sky in a bloody red light which soon faded into oppressive grey. Not a single trace of life existed, and nothing blocked the mournful wailing of the wind across the flat plain except for the jagged, rocks which protruded from the ground like broken teeth. And the statues. Chipped marble figures petrified in dramatic poses as they slowly weathered away. There was something tragic about their luminous white forms which, over the aeons, had slowly been coated in a thin grey dust from the windswept plains.
Umbrielle blinked. She turned around, but the ‘Vietato l’Accesso’ door was gone. Perhaps rule-following does have its advantages, she mused. Then she quickly pushed away the thought. There were no other living things in sight - the only way out was to make her own rules. The sun had almost entirely disappeared below the horizon, staining the plain a harsh red. In a few minutes it would be completely gone.
Umbrielle tried to find a way out. She wanted to return to the Vatican Museums before the sun had completely set to give enough time to plunder them. As it began to dip closer to the horizon, however, it was only her iron will which kept her from panicking. That was when she noticed the rock. It was indistinguishable from the other jagged shapes around her except for by the faint writing etched into its surface.
You have entered the glorious Empire of the Renatus and therefore must abide by these three laws:
You are currently in Nusquam Territory. As for all territories, you must abide by its laws.
You may pass between territories freely, however you may never leave the Empire.
The Emperor is always right. Always.
As decreed by Emperor A. Claudius Portens Certus, first year of the glorious Empire of the Renatus.
Well, that was very comforting.
It was completely dark now, a curtain of blackness punctured by thousands of watchful eyes. Umbrielle had never seen stars so bright before. They-
Something was moving. A flicker, in the corner of her vision. It was moving towards her, slowly, cautiously. Soon, the dark shape resolved itself into two figures, but she quickly realised they were not human…
On the left stood one of the warrior statues from earlier, dust-streaked marble and adorned with a plumed marble helmet which looked about three sizes too large. His face looked somehow rough, inexpertly carved, with a nose like some kind of small, squishy vegetable. On the right was a statue of a boy who only looked a few years older than her, with a round marble face. He was dressed in a tunic which seemed three sizes too large. And they were both moving, as naturally and fluidly as a human might move.
“Halt!” Yelled the one on the left. (Actually, what he yelled was “Fermati!” Umbrielle was lucky she spoke Italian.) “I am Titus Claudius Fortis, son of Emperor Aulus Claudius Portens Certus! Who goes there?”