The Empire The Daily Divan | Journal

[Az'Marith]

As Az'Marith sat in his favoured chair, by his favoured desk by the window in his favoured home, he looked out into the streets of Annuakat. He had estates both there and in Ragash, as well as a more private place farther north, but this one had always been his favourite. The view was something you couldn't match anywhere, and sometimes he would stop whatever it was he was doing to look out and simply enjoy what there was around him. His life thus far had treated him well, and as he sat there this evening he was reminded of this. His recent employment with the Imperials was no doubt going to increase is already vast wealth. Not that he wasn't already more than comfortable, but even the thought of anything but would likely become so foreign to him. He could afford to have someone do literally everything for him. He could probably afford to travel to Belgrath and back in a boat over land by the time he was finished.

He chuckled at that thought, and wondered if such a thing had been attempted. Then he chuckled again, musing that perhaps even that thought in itself might be a foolish one to some, but there was always a bigger fool.

You never knew what some people had tried.

He sipped from his tea, and then with a sigh he set it down and returned to his work.

Someone's probably tried it.​

The Daily Divan ​ Populace Plagued by Lethargic Leadership ​ ​ In the days since Gerra's coronation - which is a day with a tale of its own - these lands have seen great prosperity. Only tales of the great abtati pharoahs rival what we see today. Trading has exploded, commerce has improved ten-fold, and even crops have increased in yield. The networks created by our Emperor's unification have shown remarkable results toward the prosperity of this entire region. I can see it in the Annuakat sky as the sun begins to set. Even the air seems clearer. ​ ​ However, not is all as sunny as the sandy dunes in the day. ​ ​ Though the imperials were quick to mobilize and solidify their control over most of the desert lands, their progress seems to have... stagnated. Their attention to detail has slipped. Crime is on the rise, there are bandits along the roads, and there are murders left unchecked. Perhaps the abtati became too inundated with the luxuries that wealth and nobility afforded them. Perhaps even the emperor - who has following his failed campaign against the Cortos people chosen to take up a pilgrimage yet again - perhaps it is even he who has grown complacent! Perhaps the sheer scope of what they attempted to attain was all simply too far beyond any of them, even a god.​ ​ Perhaps.​ ​ I think not. ​ ​ I think, as I have learned through my observations of various leaders, governments, and failures, we've seen the quiet preparation. The calm before the storm. ​ ​ We see the cunning of the hunter who knows their prey will soon turn.​ ​ The Imperial Scribe​

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He smirked as he put his pen down and rolled the scroll. He slid his drawer open, the sound alone he knew was enough to beckon who he required now, and withdrew from there a small vial and a small pouch. Into the vial he slid the thin scroll, and as he did so a pretty and curious looking bird perched itself upon his windowsill. He gave the fowl an affectionate chit chit, to which the bird replied in kind. Az'Marith smirked again, and held out his palm. Therein was an assortment of seeds and dried worms, all of which the fowl obviously found delectable as it delicately ate the gift from his hand. After it had finished, he held out his other palm, and the bird took the vial in its claws and departed with the flapping of wings far grander than its size would have alluded to.

Though Az'Marith himself was capable of preforming the task he'd just sent off to be carried out, the growth of his own network afforded him the luxury of time. He could spend the coin to have another capable mage replicate the writings, and then he would spend the coin to have it distributed to key points across the city.

He'd been doing it for some time now. It was probably why the Empire had taken interest in him. He was just glad he hadn't written anything bad about them yet.

 

[Az'Marith]

He took a sip from his tea as he sat back, resting his eyes and his mind from sorting through the chaotic mess his predecessor had left things in. The one who had held the station of Imperial Scribe before him had been dutiful in their collection and recording of information, but to say they lacked in the areas of organization would be putting in kindly. Everything was an absolute mess. At least he'd had the mind to shove a good portion of it into a box and bring it to his own home with him. As Imperial Scribe, he did have a rather luxurious office in each and every one of the Empire's palace libraries. But this meant his predecessor did too, and this meant they were all likely in equal levels of disarray.

Setting his tea down, his hand reached up to rub his temple as he pondered that thought. Meanwhile his other hand idly sifted through the papers he'd laid out on his desk until...

…something caught his eye.

His hand took hold of the parchment and he held it up to read in the candlelight. As he read, he was amazed at what he found. He set it down and thought on what he'd come across for a moment, and found the turn of events to be rather interesting. He knew that he'd been sought by the imperials because of the network he'd been developing, more specifically his little news letter. If only they'd realized what they'd had under their noses...

It seemed his predecessor had come up with a similar idea, only failed in implementation. Judging from the state of their affairs, it was no wonder. But still, upon reading the entirety of the piece he found, and seeing no harm in what he had planned, he decided to get to work on the next days submission...

The Daily Divan You Gotta be Ghosting Me ​ In the literary world, there is this concept of ghost writing. If you're reading this you likely know what that is, and if you're reading this to someone then you can take a moment to explain. ​ ​ I will wait. ​ ​ In all my years as a writer, I never thought I could take ghost writing so literally. Upon assuming my place as Imperial Scribe, one of my first actions has been to review all the untended and recently reviewed tasks left by my predecessor. Amongst these things, I have stumbled upon a number of works that are not to dissimilar from our entries here at The Daily Divan.​ ​ Great minds think alike, someone once said.​ ​ In honour of my late predecessor, I have decided to submit the ones I have come across and subsequent ones as I find them, though from what I see, there are some of them that I will have to finish myself beforehand as their original writer was unfortunately unable to do so. Throwing chronology out the window, I will simply submit them in the order I have found them.​ ​ And so, with no further delay...​ What Does it Mean to You? ​ For years untold, Ragash has been a city of great wealth and prosperity. Long have the eyes of the rich and powerful lingered here, and while the one who sat in the seat often changed, the seat's place never has. Always do the grandest of powers make their home here, and even the nobility of neighbouring cities can trace their roots here. ​ ​ But through all the recorded history, through all the exchange of power, never has Ragash been more prosperous as she is now. The Empire brought with it more than rule and law, it brought wealth and peace. No, not everything is perfect, but things are certainly different. For some it is that their savoir has come. For others, its the economic stability. For most, I suspect, it is the unification. The lifting their eyes to one banner. As I walked through the city and saw all manner of people, the shopkeepers, the street sweepers, the guardsmen, each of them lifting a hand to help hang a banner or a decoration, I was seeing it there. You did too, if you were looking.​ ​ The Festival of the Divan takes place four times a year, and each season has its own unique flare. This season in particular marked the beginning of Emperor Gerra's campaign against the Cortosi people and their heretical government. Because of this, there was a commitment made by the people, of their own accord, to commit and great deal of their profits from the festival toward the war effort. I'd known that word of the Ragashi merchants' pledge to support the Imperial war effort had reached the seven cities, but I didn't realize what that would mean. ​ ​ My suspicions were confirmed on this night, I believe...​ ​ Throughout the day, though I'd not taken much notice as I was resting to prepare for a long night, there had been a steady flow of people arriving in the city. They were booking rooms, forming crowds, and even helping with preparations. I'd not left home until it was nearly dark, and I was stunned by what I saw. The streets were more crowded than I'd ever seen, even more so than in the paintings depicting some of the most popular Shahs. There was dancing. There was music. There was food and there was drink. But more than all of this - there was joy. There was laughter. There was friendship. ​ ​ Even as I cut down a back alley to avoid a thick crowd I came across a small gathering of some singing and drinking in the dim light behind a shop. ​ ​ I'd not come to understand the scope of everything until the festival's conclusion several days later, but with statements given from Alabyad Palace I'd come to find out that on the opening day of the festival, the population of the city nearly doubled overnight. Along the outskirts of the city a vast encampment of tents had been built to house many of those that had come for the festival. ​ ​ Treasury officials estimated that the contribution generated by the festival - without having been fully counted - more than doubled their allotted funding for the war effort.​ ​ Law-enforcement reported nothing more substantial than some petty theft and a few bar fights. ​ ​ It is also known that much of the Imperial Divan was present in Ragash, with those who'd been stationed on the front having returned in honour of the festival, and to boost morale among the people. Official reports from Alabyad Palace say that Divan members "remained indoors" throughout the entirety of the event's nighttime festivities, which of course span over the course of several nights. ​ ​ Though I am not one to question an official account, there are rumours reported of the Vizier of the Red Sun and the Moon, Ashuanar of Mari-Kuul and Noelani of Mchawi respectively, having departed the palace through secretive means. Further reports place not only them, but the likes of the near mythical dark elf known as Fieravene at The Rare Raven, a shisha den in Baal-Asha square in western Ragash. It is alleged that they remained there for some time before departing. It is not known what transpired from there, but as it stands none of these claims can be confirmed as of yet.​ ​ What was confirmed, however, was that lord Emperor Hansuras na-Gerra did in fact return to Ragash the night of the festival. It is reported that the Empress Regent Medja met with him in the streets where there was an apparently heated exchange that quickly cooled before they joined each other back to Alabyad Palace. ​ ​ With all that said, knowing that people who had quite likely never once met each other could all gather together in one place to celebrate, knowing that even those deemed the highest of our elite would come down from their high places to laugh and dance and smoke shisha with us, knowing we are all united under one banner, knowing that you are a part of something great, that you are the Empire, ​ ​ what does it mean to you?​ ​ The Imperial Scribe​

 

[Az'Marith]

The Daily Divan False Fallout From Forbidden City ​ Several days ago residents across the Empire were startled but a sudden, powerful rumbling. In our Emperor's diligence, he himself with his most trusted advisors rode to investigate what was undoubtedly the source of the disturbance. After days of patiently waiting for reports to come in, officials from Alabyad Palace have explained the appearance of an enormous dragon rising from deep beneath the region near the Forbidden City. What is known for certain is that subsequently after this dragon emerged, he was slain by our Emperor near the outskirts of Elbion, where it had fled to after encountering him. What is also known is that the dragon's emergence generated an enormous cloud of ash. For the past several days there have been scattered reports of strange things taking place in the outlying villages near the affected area. Some of the behaviours described include but are not limited to: increased aggression, increased violence, some even claim to have witnessed cannibalism. Officials deny these reports as the hysteric ramblings of end-timers, saying the effects of the ash have been minimal and quite typical of how ash behaves.

After completing his task and preforming the required ritual, he watched as his trusted fowl turned and departed with the vial of another ghost-written work in its grasp. As he watched it fly off from his window, he leaned back in his chair and pulled his pipe up to his lip. And as he inhaled, he pondered.

He was of course well aware that there was a truth about what happened there that day. He was not exactly certain, to say the least, but his observations had been that things had changed since then. Something significant had taken place, be it between them or to them, or both, key components of the Divan had shifted in some way and he was determined to know how.

As for the ash...

Yeah. Of course. Nothing happened.

Tsk.

He gave his pipe a few gentle taps.

 

[Az'Marith]

The Daily Divan Ungrateful Undead ​ Many of you may remember our lord and emperor's coronation. With its sixth anniversary just around the corner, I am reminded of how tremendous an event it was meant to be. The music, the food, the art and of course what everyone was there for, the crowning itself. This was to be followed by several ceremonies where the emperor would publicly appoint his top advisors for all to know and see. Many of you may remember that is not how things turned out. Instead of the grand theatrics that were to dwarf any inauguration prior, we received an interruption of the rudest sort. The walking dead. Unfortunately however, they did more than just walk. They talked as well, and spoke lies, conjured evil magic and bombarded our great city with snow and ice and wind. They even turned and undead dragon upon us, and caused damage to our great palace. And above all transgressions, declared themselves rulers over this land. And while we may never have gotten to see the fulfillment of the planned ceremonies, in the celebrations following the undead's subsequent defeat we were shown that many of those individuals who showed great merit on that day were in fact the many of the leaders we were meant to follow. These leaders showed acts of great valour. The undead came to shatter the resolve of our budding empire and place itself upon us. Not only did it fail to subjugate us, but it succeeded marvelously at instilling a sense of trust in our leadership. In more recent times, there has been a growing suspicion that measures to prevent against such a happening again had been devised. An illusive and as of yet un-named cabal of sorts has since allegedly been formed and is studying the darkest arts of our enemies to best combat against them. Though officials from Alabyad Palace would not comment on the speculation, silence sometimes speaks louder than words. I for one am comforted with the idea that our enemies could find themselves fighting somebody in their own state of being. The Imperial Scribe​

And in truth, he was. Why surrender the living when you could unleash the dead?

Which made him think...