The air was acrid, and grey. The haze hung heavy over the blackened earth and debris of the dead city. Its name used to be Trae. It used to be a city of riches, a capital of a nation, a center of commerce. Its king had been richer than any other. But what is a king to a god?

Jeruk’s footsteps crunched as he surveyed the ruination. Trae had once been defiant. Its walls used to stand tall. But now its walls were melted stone and crushed rubble, and all its dreams of defiance were melted and crushed along with it. Its population had deserted their homes or had been enslaved by what little men and champions he had left, and taken back to Samar-Samar. Its plunder had been taken, and all men had their share. This pleased Jeruk greatly.

From the charred corpses, a figure arose. Jeruk’s honor guard moved forward, spears in hand, but Jeruk stopped them. Let this dead man speak his last.

“You burned my home.” He said. Pitiful last words. Unimaginative. Boring.

“Your king defied me.” Jeruk said.

“Aye, and you burned my home because of it.”

“Mortals are in no place to question the divine or criticize their wishes.” Said Jeruk, his hand gripping the spear.

“Is that so? And you are a god then, are you?” said the dead man. Enough, Jeruk thought, you shall burn too. Jeruk surged forward, brought the spearpoint to the man’s neck, pressing it in slightly. Words caught in his mouth as he tried to say them, but he went on.

“Fine then. Speak your last,” said the God.

“How can you be a god, when Pelaris yet stands defiant? And Lisbay joins them?” said the Dead man.

“They will burn.”

“Aye, just as we have, but why have they not burned yet.”

“They will burn.”

“So they will burn, but how can you be a god, if your men laugh at you in their cups, and steal from your share?” Jeruk sliced his speartip slowly across the man’s throat, shallow enough to let him live but deep enough to leave a trickle of red. Jeruk stopped at the man’s carotid.

“They do no such thing. They would not dare.”

“How can you be a god if you know so little about your own domain?” The man was trying Jeruk’s patience.

“My empire is the greatest, most powerful, mightiest, vastest empire the world has ever seen!”

“And it’s a shithole, O great ti-maan.” An accursed smile flickered across the dead man’s pale face. His sunken eyes were alight. “Your men cheat you and your kingdom’s impoverished. Your culture is laughable, as your men are too busy slaving and drinking to leave any mark on the world. Your people despise your reign when you do not look, and the stench of pestilence from your cities can be smelled here when the wind is right. You have brought mankind nothing but the four curses.”

This man would be thrice-damned! How dare he speak like this? Death would not be enough. “Do you have any children, dead man?”

“No.”

“Have you taken a wife?”

“No.”

“Do you have any joys in the world?”

“Only that you have wrought war, famine, pestilence, and death upon yourself, and you will soon bring yourself ruination.”

“Do you ever hold your infernal tongue?”

Jeruk only got another smile in response. The rage was building, broiling… He threw his spear to the ground, went forward, and in a second he broke the man’s two arms. In another, he shattered his legs. A thump signaled a man dropping to the ground, screeching and chuckling in equal parts. Finally he spouted out.

“You cannot take anything that you have not already taken! I will laugh in the afterlife as I watch you bring yourself failure!”

“We shall see about that.” Said Jeruk, as he fomented plans.

This is taking into account also my 100 gold tithe from Semor Nazom, which will keep going for 2 more weeks.

trans:

name = bought 52 ships

gold = -420

trans:

name = conquered Glanchester

trans:

name = Researching Techs [Construction, Pyrotechnics, Smelting, Currency, Geometry]

science = -78

trans:

name = Culturing Civics [Patriarchy]

culture = -18

trans:

name = getting free tiles

link = http://puu.sh/xet2L/4c8db6c468.png

trans:

name = building a Granary in Samar-Samar

gold = -50

trans:

name = Slaving Pop returns to Samar-Samar