Everything posted by effacingspeech
Haenseti Senators : A Comedy Author Huig de Sixt. Written on commission. Already the campaigns of the senatorial elections had steeped into a crippling leprosy. Looming above the streets the red, black, white, and blue posters fill the walls of town-houses. The peasants hurry to gather their oats and grains before the political whirlwind sweeps in. People walk past, cross the lorraine across their hearts, don’t recognise their brothers, and see their own neighbor as enemies. In all eyes there is a challenge, on every lip bitterness, and a threat is carried in every clenched fist. A silent war had flared up in the finest hearts of the empire, and already we see two young men, who stood together as brothers, get into an argument in the imperial diet, and spill eachothers’ blood into the dirt. The tension of secession means we can no longer keep count of broken marriages, and matters of faith and tradition being now so austere, everyone is playing hide and seek from the constables. On the sides of the roads, there are always these suspicious-looking bearded men who we don't know and who we've never seen, following one after the other, constantly greeting everyone with the same smiles, and even greeting the trees, the rocks, the stray pigs, and the feral street-dogs. They are our good candidates. Some wear long beards, while others are clean-shaven at the sides of their heads. Some are old, very old, and bent over in age, others young and full of energy. But they all have the same smile and sing the same tune, which echoes from the valleys to the hills, and then from the hills to the mountains at the far reaches of the empire. They say; - “Listen to me, good people, rich and poor, honest and treasonous. You, too, deaf and lame, cripples --look at me, and listen. It is Haense who makes the harvest plentiful, Haense who turns the miserable cottage into a palace, Haense who fills the old, empty coffers with gold, and Haense who crams the poisoned hearts full of happiness. Hurry over here, good people, for Haense is the savior for sterile women, and for anxious, obedient people. We say to the rain, DO NOT FALL; to war, DO NOT KILL; and to death, DO NOT COME. We turn piss into fine wine, and delicious nectar flows out of sting-nettles when a Haense-man touches them." Here is what I saw: while the candidate was speaking, a crowd appeared from the air and gathered around him. - "Kind Sir," wept an old woman, "I have a son who's off in the war against the Inferi, far, far away." - "Haense will return him to you." - "I have only one leg," cried a crippled man. -"Haense will give you another one." - "Look at this horrible cancer that eats away at my stomach!" wailed a wretched orphan in the most pathetic whinges. - "Haense will lay a medal of honor on your wound with it’s own bare hands, and you will be cured of every sickness." - "I'm ninety years old," croaked an old man. - "Haense’ll get you back to forty." - "It's been four days since I had a scrap of food to eat!" a vagrant pleaded. - "I'll stuff you with cakes until you burst." Then a murderer appeared brandishing a long sword, with his clothes all drenched in blood. - "I've killed my own brother, and the imperials have sent me off to prison!" he shrieked. - "If it were not for those imperials, Haense would tear down the prisons, and slaughter justice with the guillotine. Then I'll make you a guard." - "My neighbor is too rich," said a peasant, "his rabbits eat my corn, and his foxes ****** my chickens." - "I'll give you a county on my own land, and you can nail his children to the barn doors, like rabbits ripped from their warrens." - "There aren’t any customers buying my products!" exclaimed the merchant. - "I will push our field of independence straight to the end of the world." - "Long live the Senate," said a voice. The candidate responded, "Long live the Senate!" - "Long live a free Haense," said another voice. The candidate responded, "Long live a free Haense!" - "Long live the Emperor," said a third voice. - The candidate responded, "Long live the Emperor!" At that moment, a beautiful, superbly-dressed woman stepped from the ranks of the crowd, and walked up to the candidate. "Do you know me?" she asked. "No," replied the Haensetian candidate, "where should I have seen you, you lousy foreigner?" "I am Oren. What will you do for me?" "The same as I'll do for the others, my love. I'll eat, I'll sleep, and my stomach will feel better for feeling full. With the mina I'll be pinching from your pocket, that bottomless purse, I'll have beautiful ladies, fertile fields, and respectability throughout the world, if you don't mind. And if you're not happy about it, that's no problem, my dear. I'll just have to work you over with my club!"
Panhumanism cannot exist in a land of nation-states A political thesis on unity of man against the division of men. flexian high imp. Hugo Sixtus wald. Huig de Sixt At what point in the history of man will war cease? The moment that a greater education has reached every being of such a label. What is this theory of peace? I will give it in one name: Panhumanism. This title includes all I wish to say. The individual, and individualism, serve as a brick. Panhumanism, by virtue of composition, is a building. Even the greatest individuality (may it be Sigismund, or Horen, or Barbanov) is no more than a brick in the panhuman house of human history. The lives of individuals are only the minute and constitutive points of construction, whereas the collective life of mankind is a form; a deep, high and grand final form. If it were the great and divine aim of history to be an individual within a society of individuals, history would not have advanced past Horen, for our first ancestors would have been the most striking individuals to have existed. Men coming after Horen have been like their parents and each other. It is not shocking to say that Emperor Joseph II is not such an interesting and striking a creature as the first man was. When Emperor Joseph II opens his mouth to speak, he speaks intelligently and with eloquence, but he speaks words that are known. When he moves or sits, when he eats or prays—and all other practice that people do in daily life, all is either from heritage or imitation, and quite an insignificant amount is individual and unique. Whereas every sound that Horen uttered was quite new for Creation; every movement striking and dramatic; every look of his eyes was discovering new worlds and new beasts; every joy or sorrow violently felt as they had never been so felt prior; every struggle a great accumulation of experiences in first experience. And so forth. Well, if one striking individuum is the aim of history, history should close with the death of Horen. But history still continues. Why? Just because not Horen was its aim, but mankind; not one, or two, or ten heroes, but millions of human creatures upon the land; not some few great men, but all men, all together, all without exception as great. From this point of view we get the true ideal of education. The purpose of education is not to make grand personalities, but to make bricks for the building, i.e., to make suitable members of a collective body and suitable workers of a collective work. If you do not reach this point of understanding of cooperation as necessary for racial greatness, the mutual understanding would be wholly illusory. The feudal structure as necessarily delineating those owning of the land to those working it for pay and board interferes with the panhumanist project. It creates a separation oif men by likes of wars and state polity, embodied in aphorisms as "The koenig above all". The commoner must love his own king, but it must know also that its kingdom is not the thing over all other human things. The common man must be taught that God and mankind are something which stands above its country. Until the kings of this world shatter this illusory individual self, they can embrace the final monoimperial form for which mankind are fated. There is no hope for the future in the senators, kings and generals, who now struggle to maintain this project within the constraints of maintaining their own feudal sub-divisions of the domain of man. The only hope and guarantee lies, paradoxically, in the individual. To strive for personal goodness making for the social greatness is the only salutary war that man-as-kind can fight, and this war is not tenable within a system of self-interested petty nation-states whose existence will leave men riven in geography and divinity. In death our souls only enlarge one kingdom. HS ====
Hugo had been used to having little conversation with his father, coming from a long line of bankers within the city of Reza. From this, he grew to become something independent, more adept at manual labour than the coin-counting of his forebears. Although his family was known widely for being knights of the realm, it was in recent and more peaceful history that they had changed to become merchants and bankers of a more mercantile class. He had little time for the wars of the world, with the AIS uprising and the empire’s liberation of Sutica leaving him with more time to himself as the city swelled with the trade of war and his parents’ business keeping them farther from their farm home. Growing up he had read lots of stories about knights of history especially due to his proud Waldenian ancestors, but quickly grew out of them as farm-work became more important. Hugo became very lonely and withdrew to farming, working day and night in the fields outside the Haense city of Reza to support his family. With this loneliness developing thick and fast, he had little spare time to head into the city and work in the wider world. From this, he became a man of the field, working them during the small hours before dusk as this was where the sun was at its coolest. Hugo worked in the fields by himself until the sun’s smile of his eighteenth year. When a courier from the city of Helena, capital of Oren, came to his family farm, he knew he had no choice but to listen. He was being conscripted to join the Orenian Army in the city of Helena and help fight and defend his empire.Hugo hoped that for now being a soldier would be a quiet career especially due to this time of political peace. powergaming; Powergaming is actions that are unrealistic or forcing actions onto another player. unrealistic powergaming is feats that your character would not be capable of, like a child lifting a full-grown Orc. A forced powergaming action is forcing one onto another character, like instantly stabbing them through the heart before allowing them to block. metagaming: metagaming is using information that your character would not be otherwise knowing of (as it was acquired out-of-character) for in-character effect. This can be from reading forum posts and wikia pages to learn knowledge in-character, or hearing alerts from friends to log in for fights and then logging in.