2022 was a marvelous year for the timeline, I loved it, I can't wait what you got in store for us next year!
An Age of Miracles III: The Romans Endure
- Thread starter Basileus444
- Start date
This is fairly out of context to the recent updates. But if I was thinking, if I was the Prussian king I’d be negotiating with the Russians to join the Union. He’d have to give up substantial powers to the electorate, which maybe is too much to tolerate. But he would keep his kingdom together and remain its king. In the event of a Russian annexation in war, the Novgorod and Lithuanian principalities will demand their lands be restored, and the Prussian kingdom destroyed as an institution. Keeping friendly with Russia, as you’ve had them do, is the best way for the Prussian king to retain his independence, and his likely most favored path, but that is only a temporary solution. Once Russia gets its feet fully under itself, and begins to assert itself more in Europe, their old Baltic coast will be the very first thing they look to secure.
additionally, and this is less an opinion and more a rhetorical question, I wonder what Russia’s approach will be in Europe. If they can get the Finns to kick the Swedes out, it seems they could be easily brought into the Union with full rights, as you’ve alluded to already. Wallachia best serves Russia as a buffer with Romania, and isn’t nearly worth harming that relationship over. Poland, Hungary, and the German states are tricky though. If those nations make themselves a threat to the western frontier of Russia, the Russians will want them dealt with, but incorporating them into the Union, especially through conquest, seems unfeasible without effectively reducing them to permanent occupation zones. Puppet republics tied permanently to Russia seem the most obvious answer to eliminate the western threat while not including a large amount of unrepresented peoples in the Union that prides itself on its freedom and liberty. Now I’m certainly not saying that the russian’s newfound obsession with freedom makes them incapable of conquering and subjugating nations when the Russian national interest calls for it, the US has a similar ideological streak and often does just that, but even in the US, rarely does this amount to direct annexation unless the land can be thoroughly populated with American colonists. All this is to say that Russia will be forced, one way or the other, to involve itself more heavily in European affairs as time goes on, and it will be extremely interesting to see how the Russian government goes about this, and how the Russian government squares Russian freedoms with Russian domination. The asian steppes are less of an issue, it is easier to settle those lands with Russians, and no Europeans will offer particularly strong objections beyond the typical anti-Russian sentiment. But a systemic Russification and settlement of Russians in Poland would cause the Russians to be even more viscerally reviled by western and Central Europeans than otherwise. I also doubt the viability of such schemes, the Russian empire, too, tried to Russify Poland and that hardly worked well for them.
additionally, and this is less an opinion and more a rhetorical question, I wonder what Russia’s approach will be in Europe. If they can get the Finns to kick the Swedes out, it seems they could be easily brought into the Union with full rights, as you’ve alluded to already. Wallachia best serves Russia as a buffer with Romania, and isn’t nearly worth harming that relationship over. Poland, Hungary, and the German states are tricky though. If those nations make themselves a threat to the western frontier of Russia, the Russians will want them dealt with, but incorporating them into the Union, especially through conquest, seems unfeasible without effectively reducing them to permanent occupation zones. Puppet republics tied permanently to Russia seem the most obvious answer to eliminate the western threat while not including a large amount of unrepresented peoples in the Union that prides itself on its freedom and liberty. Now I’m certainly not saying that the russian’s newfound obsession with freedom makes them incapable of conquering and subjugating nations when the Russian national interest calls for it, the US has a similar ideological streak and often does just that, but even in the US, rarely does this amount to direct annexation unless the land can be thoroughly populated with American colonists. All this is to say that Russia will be forced, one way or the other, to involve itself more heavily in European affairs as time goes on, and it will be extremely interesting to see how the Russian government goes about this, and how the Russian government squares Russian freedoms with Russian domination. The asian steppes are less of an issue, it is easier to settle those lands with Russians, and no Europeans will offer particularly strong objections beyond the typical anti-Russian sentiment. But a systemic Russification and settlement of Russians in Poland would cause the Russians to be even more viscerally reviled by western and Central Europeans than otherwise. I also doubt the viability of such schemes, the Russian empire, too, tried to Russify Poland and that hardly worked well for them.
Speaking of Russia, wonder what their options are in the far east now that China and Korea both don't control manchuria. A Russian far east with control over manchuria makes them a very significant Pacific power with a much better resource and population base than OTL. They'd also find allies and support in Japan who would love to see another fellow Orthodox nation as a neignour. Can see them heavily investing in an alt trans Siberian railroad and building up manchurian infrastructure to take advantage of trade for Russian resources
Certainly. A Russian Manchuria, that can be settled with at least a plurality of Russians is a complete game changer for the Russian state, even disregarding their much earlier settlement of Ukraine, and the various East Slavs having less opportunity to develop a national consciousness separate from Russia. Russian Manchuria will effectively become a power in its own right, and it’s needs will command Russia in the Far East. This could be very good for Russia, as long as it doesn’t develop into separatism. With the Manchuria Russians pushing Russia’s interests in east Asia, European Russians can focus more heavily on western and central Asian affairs. Not necessarily that Manchurian Russia will be on its own in the East, but will be the natural center of power for far eastern Russia, whereas OTL far eastern Russia was a relatively lightly populated borderland commanded from the west. Russia’s federal structure also helps a lot to allow Manchuria to be the “leader” of eastern Russia. Furthermore, a Russian Manchuria will plunge them much deeper into East Asian geopolitics. China will most certainly be an enemy, Japan may or may not be, and korea can also go either way. And when Western Europeans start poking around, very challenging circumstances can unfold for Russia. What happens if a Russian ally in Europe becomes an enemy of a Russian ally in Asia? Almost a much earlier, somewhat different, version of the Brit’s dilemma in the early 20th over the US and Japan. For the other Europeans, Asian politics are colonial politics, and of a distinctly different sort than European politics. That’s not as much the case for Russia, and very certainly NOT the case AT ALL for a Russian Manchuria in the federal Russian system.
tbf having Manchuria rebel and break off from russia would be a very interesting thing to happen since Russia would have a competitor and it'd make Russia have a competitor and affect the other asian powers as Manchuria tries to expand its power.
While it’s always possible, I doubt whether Russian Manchuria would even want independence. Their primary aims would be to expand into Mongolia and northern China, which, especially if the Romans can broker peace between their mutual orthodox allies Russia and Japan, should be the goals of the Russian federal government as well. On another note, even without the Qing and subsequent sinicization of Manchuria, once the Russians begin to set down roots and develop the land, there will be Chinese immigrants in the region unless measures are taken to prevent them from crossing the border. If they convert to orthodoxy and learn Russian they may not be treated terribly, but not the same as ethnic Russians. If they overwhelmingly retain their religion and language, they will not have such a great time, and will likely be seen as a potential Chinese fifth column. On the other side of the same coin, once the Russians begin to make a push into China, they will find the people difficult to administer as second class citizens below a people they completely dwarf in local population, so a substantial orthodox, Russian-fluent population of ethnic Han people might make the perfect governors of a puppet government based in Beijing. That’s of course assuming the Russians manage to get that far, which is certainly far from inevitable, even if it is a goal of theirs.
in addition to any large holdings in China proper being a hassle to keep subjugated. The further the Russians expand into China, and the less of a threat China seems, the less sense any Russo-Japanese alliance makes to the Japanese, religion and the Romans be damned.
Last edited:
Hmmm... Central Asia. Maybe Xinjiang, even. Mongolia, perhaps. Most of Central Asia is still on important routes and close to neighbors in frequent contact, even Afghanistan.
Of course, if Korea goes Orthodox (Christianity being given a 200 year-plus head start ITTL)...Japan may prefer Hanseong advance to the Amur frontier in lieu of a baying horde of Cossacks with a concerningly large and modern river flotilla...and allegiance in name only to the Russian Empire
Would be funny if we got Christian Japanese Sarhuda from Hokkaido or something.
Rhomania's General Crisis, Part 4.2: The Summer of 1660, part 3
Demetrios the Younger: This man will certainly become much more prominent down the road.
Russia and Manchuria: Having a fragmented Manchuria, with Korean and Chinese influence mostly canceling each other out and keeping the place fragmented, is for the purpose of making the place much easier pickings for the Russians later in the 1600s. Getting all of the Amur River valley by itself is a huge boost to Russian Far East; the place can actually sustain itself. And admittedly that is really for the reason of making Russian Alaska a sustainable option. How this all places out with Russian interaction with China, Korea, and Japan is much more up in the air. One example: A much more established and developed Russian Far East is going to want a year-round warm-water port even more badly. Are the Koreans and Japanese willing to accommodate this, or do they view this Russian move as a threat? If the latter, shared Orthodoxy isn't going to matter.
Content Warning: The following update contains depictions of torture and reference (not depictions, to be absolutely clear) to child rape. If that is an issue for anyone, skip to the very last section of the update (marked by the ***). Also please note that I do not have plans for any updates at this time that should require similar warnings.
The Pit of the Forsaken, the White Palace, July 1, 1660:
He scratched the back of his head, where there were a few thin tufts of white hair, the paltry scraggly holdouts in what was otherwise a bald dome. Signing off on the bottom of a piece of paperwork, he placed it on the righthand corner of his wooden desk. Getting up to stretch his stiff legs, he hobbled around the stone cell, pacing back and forth. Some light shone in through the window, set up at twice the height of his head, but most of the illumination came from several oil lamps ensconced evenly around the wall of the circular chamber. Going back to his desk, he took the dull red linen jacket slung over the back of his chair and put it on; even at the height of summer it was never really warm down here.
He pulled his pocket watch out and looked at it, although his rumbling stomach told him just beforehand that it was nearly, but annoyingly not quite at, lunchtime. That was his second-favorite part of the work day, as his paunch could attest. His favorite part, naturally, was leaving.
A short thin woman, with short silver-gray hair with some traces of black curling around her face, pushed the door open and entered. She frowned, handing him another piece of paper. He skimmed the beginning. “And I thought today was going to be a quiet day.”
“Apparently not,” she said. “I’d like to be your number 2 on this one.”
He looked up from the paper. “Are you sure, Irene? You know how I operate, what I do.”
“I’m quite sure. Did you get to paragraph 4?”
“No.” He read it. “Are you serious? Another one?” He looked at her. “That’s why you want in.”
She nodded. “That’s why.”
“Very well. You’re in.” His stomach rumbled. “But first we do lunch.” He set the piece of paper down at the center of his desk. “Then we’ll deal with him.” He smiled coldly; this kind of case was his third-favorite part.
He was back at his desk, although his satisfied stomach was now silent. In other changes a chair was now in front of his desk, facing him. A scribe sat behind him and to his left, his own portable writing desk set up with his materials ready, while a club-armed guard stood at the door. “Bring him in,” he said. The guard opened the door.
Another guard came in, pushing a manacled man in front of him. The prisoner was in his early twenties, thin-framed and with a thin beard that failed to cover up a double chin. He shivered as the guard shoved him down onto the empty chair, tying him to it. It could be fear, or simply chill. He was just wearing a somewhat-stained pair of shorts that went down only to the tops of his knees.
Irene now entered, coming over to the desk. She turned to face the prisoner, putting her purse down on the desk and fishing through it for the items. “The time is 13:07,” he said, looking again at his watch. The scribe’s quill scratched that notation. “The session begins.” He looked at the guard who’d brought the prisoner into the chamber. “You are relieved.”
“I am relieved,” he replied, exiting the chamber, the original guard closing the door behind him.
He adjusted his glasses, looking over the case file for a moment, the chamber otherwise silent. “Um,” the prisoner said. A look at Irene. There was a sharp crack as fist met face, then a cry of pain. Irene drew back her hand, the brass knuckles glinting against the lamp light.
“The prisoner will only speak when spoken to.” The man nodded.
“Now, what is your name?” he asked.
“Why? You know-” He shrieked as Irene’s brass-knuckled fist again smashed into his face; something flew out of his mouth.
“Guard,” he said. The man grabbed the prisoner, wrenching his mouth open and peeling his lips back so the mouth could be examined. “Subject has lost tooth UL3.” The scribe’s quill scratched as he recorded the information. The guard let go and stepped back.
He looked at the prisoner. “You will answer my questions when I ask them, even if I already know the answer. Now, what is your name?”
“Stefanos-”
“Wrong.” A look at Irene. Another fist to the face. Another scream. And another piece went flying. “Guard.” A moment. “Subject has lost tooth UR2.” He looked over at Irene. “Let’s try and keep things symmetrical, shall we? I like to keep things neat and tidy.”
“Understood.”
He looked again at Irene. “I must apologize for my colleague’s sloppiness. Rest assured that with any further lost teeth or broken bones or injuries of that nature, we will attempt to ensure that they are evenly distributed. We regret any distress caused by our earlier failure to maintain this standard.”
“Deeply regret,” Irene drolled.
“Now, regarding your last answer. The information you gave me was incorrect. Doing so will result in consequences. I trust you can discern what kind.” The man looked at him, confused, but he kept his bloodied mouth shut. “Now I will explain, but I will only explain once, so pay attention. Your name is no longer what it was before. Your name, from now until the moment I let you die, is Shit. You will answer to that name, and you will not answer to anything else. If you break these rules, there will be consequences. Is that clear, shit?”
For a moment, the man didn’t answer. He looked at Irene. “Something other than the face this time. Variety is important.”
“Wait, yes!” the man cried.
“Too late.”
Irene punched him in the stomach, the man bending over and retching as she pulled back. He noticed her hands were red, the brass knuckles covered in blood. “Next time use a club. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” She nodded, taking the brass knuckles off and wiping her hand off with a cloth. Then she pulled a hatchet out of her purse, putting it down on the desk corner, before removing a forearm-length nightstick.
“Why?” the man moaned. His vomit was spread out of the stone floor, with specks of blood mixed with it.
Irene reached for the club, but he held up his hand. “I’ll allow that one. Why, shit, you really ask why? What do you think?” he asked as the man drew himself straight again, wincing in pain. “How old was the boy?” There was silence. “Shit, you answer that question right now or I will leave this room and let her deal with you.”
“Six. He was six.”
“Yes, six. Which, in case you haven’t noticed, makes him a child. Child rape is typically considered even worse than normal rape, which frankly feels like a wrong way of putting it but I’m not a rhetorician. So that’s why we’re doing this. You can thank the Empress of Blackbirds. She didn’t like child rapists either, but public displays of torture just seemed so vulgar. Leaving up a corpse didn’t seem like enough of a punishment either. But people have a lot of imagination, oftentimes more wild and vivid than what can be done in reality, because that doesn’t have to deal with cleaning up all the blood and vomit and excrement, which can be really tedious and smelly, mind you. So she decided that the perpetrator would be tortured, and the clearly brutalized corpse then left up as a way to spur people’s imaginations and maybe deter some people from trying similar things. Since you’re here, clearly it doesn’t work entirely, but that’s not my problem. And if you don’t like it, you should’ve thought of that before. Are we clear now?”
He whimpered. “Yes.”
“Good. Glad to see we’re making progress, and shouldn’t expect any more stupid questions. But before I decide on white meat or dark meat, I must apologize for my actions. I have your name, but I never properly introduced myself. My name is Adam.”
Adam was in his other office while the chamber he’d used earlier that day was cleaned up. The light from outside had descended into twilight, but the lamps gave out enough so that he could still work on his paperwork. Staring at the sheet in front of him, he thought for a moment and then signed it. It was an execution warrant for shit.
Adam didn’t see any point in further processing him. They weren’t trying to extract information or persuade him to perform some task; his body was marked enough to give plenty of ammunition for people’s imaginations when it was displayed, although the fact that Adam still kept seeing his type made him question the efficacy of the tactic. The only reason to keep torturing him was just for the pleasure of doing so. And with the exception of those of shit’s ilk, Adam didn’t derive pleasure from the pain of others. And even with those, it lasted shorter and felt less as he got older. It never did any real good; it was not like that boy was made whole again from shit’s pain. But Adam kept doing it anyway, and what did that say about him?
Once he started getting that existential, it was time to go home. He made a note on the bottom. Executed prisoners had their hair cut and teeth extracted to be sold to wig and denture makers to earn a little extra money. Adam’s note specified for the teeth removal to come after death. That was not a gesture of sympathy; teeth were less likely to be damaged and thus worth more this way.
Before he could get up, someone knocked on the door. “Enter.” Irene entered, handing him a piece of paper. “Thank you, Irene. Will you take this for me?” He handed her the execution warrant. She looked at it but didn’t protest; Adam knew she’d gotten her own urge for revenge satisfied already.
“If you could take care of this now,” Irene said, gesturing at the paper she’d handed him, “that would be for the best.”
Adam raised an eyebrow, but then unfolded it. Its sender was not noted, but Adam immediately recognized the handwriting. But then, he recognized everyone’s handwriting after he’d seen it at least once, and he’d seen this form a lot more than just once. However now, contacting him at all arguably counted as treason. Only very official channels had access to the Pit.
But he was not going to turn her in, the daughter of the man who’d hired him for this position, especially considering what she had written in the note. She had been quite vague, but he understood what she meant, and in this context could hardly fault her. He got out his quill and a small piece of blank scratch paper and inscribed, in his perfect penmanship, a single word, his answer to her question.
DID THEY MURDER MY SON?
Russia and Manchuria: Having a fragmented Manchuria, with Korean and Chinese influence mostly canceling each other out and keeping the place fragmented, is for the purpose of making the place much easier pickings for the Russians later in the 1600s. Getting all of the Amur River valley by itself is a huge boost to Russian Far East; the place can actually sustain itself. And admittedly that is really for the reason of making Russian Alaska a sustainable option. How this all places out with Russian interaction with China, Korea, and Japan is much more up in the air. One example: A much more established and developed Russian Far East is going to want a year-round warm-water port even more badly. Are the Koreans and Japanese willing to accommodate this, or do they view this Russian move as a threat? If the latter, shared Orthodoxy isn't going to matter.
Rhomania’s General Crisis, part 4.2-The Summer of 1660, part 3:
Content Warning: The following update contains depictions of torture and reference (not depictions, to be absolutely clear) to child rape. If that is an issue for anyone, skip to the very last section of the update (marked by the ***). Also please note that I do not have plans for any updates at this time that should require similar warnings.
* * *
The Pit of the Forsaken, the White Palace, July 1, 1660:
He scratched the back of his head, where there were a few thin tufts of white hair, the paltry scraggly holdouts in what was otherwise a bald dome. Signing off on the bottom of a piece of paperwork, he placed it on the righthand corner of his wooden desk. Getting up to stretch his stiff legs, he hobbled around the stone cell, pacing back and forth. Some light shone in through the window, set up at twice the height of his head, but most of the illumination came from several oil lamps ensconced evenly around the wall of the circular chamber. Going back to his desk, he took the dull red linen jacket slung over the back of his chair and put it on; even at the height of summer it was never really warm down here.
He pulled his pocket watch out and looked at it, although his rumbling stomach told him just beforehand that it was nearly, but annoyingly not quite at, lunchtime. That was his second-favorite part of the work day, as his paunch could attest. His favorite part, naturally, was leaving.
A short thin woman, with short silver-gray hair with some traces of black curling around her face, pushed the door open and entered. She frowned, handing him another piece of paper. He skimmed the beginning. “And I thought today was going to be a quiet day.”
“Apparently not,” she said. “I’d like to be your number 2 on this one.”
He looked up from the paper. “Are you sure, Irene? You know how I operate, what I do.”
“I’m quite sure. Did you get to paragraph 4?”
“No.” He read it. “Are you serious? Another one?” He looked at her. “That’s why you want in.”
She nodded. “That’s why.”
“Very well. You’re in.” His stomach rumbled. “But first we do lunch.” He set the piece of paper down at the center of his desk. “Then we’ll deal with him.” He smiled coldly; this kind of case was his third-favorite part.
* * *
He was back at his desk, although his satisfied stomach was now silent. In other changes a chair was now in front of his desk, facing him. A scribe sat behind him and to his left, his own portable writing desk set up with his materials ready, while a club-armed guard stood at the door. “Bring him in,” he said. The guard opened the door.
Another guard came in, pushing a manacled man in front of him. The prisoner was in his early twenties, thin-framed and with a thin beard that failed to cover up a double chin. He shivered as the guard shoved him down onto the empty chair, tying him to it. It could be fear, or simply chill. He was just wearing a somewhat-stained pair of shorts that went down only to the tops of his knees.
Irene now entered, coming over to the desk. She turned to face the prisoner, putting her purse down on the desk and fishing through it for the items. “The time is 13:07,” he said, looking again at his watch. The scribe’s quill scratched that notation. “The session begins.” He looked at the guard who’d brought the prisoner into the chamber. “You are relieved.”
“I am relieved,” he replied, exiting the chamber, the original guard closing the door behind him.
He adjusted his glasses, looking over the case file for a moment, the chamber otherwise silent. “Um,” the prisoner said. A look at Irene. There was a sharp crack as fist met face, then a cry of pain. Irene drew back her hand, the brass knuckles glinting against the lamp light.
“The prisoner will only speak when spoken to.” The man nodded.
“Now, what is your name?” he asked.
“Why? You know-” He shrieked as Irene’s brass-knuckled fist again smashed into his face; something flew out of his mouth.
“Guard,” he said. The man grabbed the prisoner, wrenching his mouth open and peeling his lips back so the mouth could be examined. “Subject has lost tooth UL3.” The scribe’s quill scratched as he recorded the information. The guard let go and stepped back.
He looked at the prisoner. “You will answer my questions when I ask them, even if I already know the answer. Now, what is your name?”
“Stefanos-”
“Wrong.” A look at Irene. Another fist to the face. Another scream. And another piece went flying. “Guard.” A moment. “Subject has lost tooth UR2.” He looked over at Irene. “Let’s try and keep things symmetrical, shall we? I like to keep things neat and tidy.”
“Understood.”
He looked again at Irene. “I must apologize for my colleague’s sloppiness. Rest assured that with any further lost teeth or broken bones or injuries of that nature, we will attempt to ensure that they are evenly distributed. We regret any distress caused by our earlier failure to maintain this standard.”
“Deeply regret,” Irene drolled.
“Now, regarding your last answer. The information you gave me was incorrect. Doing so will result in consequences. I trust you can discern what kind.” The man looked at him, confused, but he kept his bloodied mouth shut. “Now I will explain, but I will only explain once, so pay attention. Your name is no longer what it was before. Your name, from now until the moment I let you die, is Shit. You will answer to that name, and you will not answer to anything else. If you break these rules, there will be consequences. Is that clear, shit?”
For a moment, the man didn’t answer. He looked at Irene. “Something other than the face this time. Variety is important.”
“Wait, yes!” the man cried.
“Too late.”
Irene punched him in the stomach, the man bending over and retching as she pulled back. He noticed her hands were red, the brass knuckles covered in blood. “Next time use a club. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” She nodded, taking the brass knuckles off and wiping her hand off with a cloth. Then she pulled a hatchet out of her purse, putting it down on the desk corner, before removing a forearm-length nightstick.
“Why?” the man moaned. His vomit was spread out of the stone floor, with specks of blood mixed with it.
Irene reached for the club, but he held up his hand. “I’ll allow that one. Why, shit, you really ask why? What do you think?” he asked as the man drew himself straight again, wincing in pain. “How old was the boy?” There was silence. “Shit, you answer that question right now or I will leave this room and let her deal with you.”
“Six. He was six.”
“Yes, six. Which, in case you haven’t noticed, makes him a child. Child rape is typically considered even worse than normal rape, which frankly feels like a wrong way of putting it but I’m not a rhetorician. So that’s why we’re doing this. You can thank the Empress of Blackbirds. She didn’t like child rapists either, but public displays of torture just seemed so vulgar. Leaving up a corpse didn’t seem like enough of a punishment either. But people have a lot of imagination, oftentimes more wild and vivid than what can be done in reality, because that doesn’t have to deal with cleaning up all the blood and vomit and excrement, which can be really tedious and smelly, mind you. So she decided that the perpetrator would be tortured, and the clearly brutalized corpse then left up as a way to spur people’s imaginations and maybe deter some people from trying similar things. Since you’re here, clearly it doesn’t work entirely, but that’s not my problem. And if you don’t like it, you should’ve thought of that before. Are we clear now?”
He whimpered. “Yes.”
“Good. Glad to see we’re making progress, and shouldn’t expect any more stupid questions. But before I decide on white meat or dark meat, I must apologize for my actions. I have your name, but I never properly introduced myself. My name is Adam.”
* * *
Adam was in his other office while the chamber he’d used earlier that day was cleaned up. The light from outside had descended into twilight, but the lamps gave out enough so that he could still work on his paperwork. Staring at the sheet in front of him, he thought for a moment and then signed it. It was an execution warrant for shit.
Adam didn’t see any point in further processing him. They weren’t trying to extract information or persuade him to perform some task; his body was marked enough to give plenty of ammunition for people’s imaginations when it was displayed, although the fact that Adam still kept seeing his type made him question the efficacy of the tactic. The only reason to keep torturing him was just for the pleasure of doing so. And with the exception of those of shit’s ilk, Adam didn’t derive pleasure from the pain of others. And even with those, it lasted shorter and felt less as he got older. It never did any real good; it was not like that boy was made whole again from shit’s pain. But Adam kept doing it anyway, and what did that say about him?
Once he started getting that existential, it was time to go home. He made a note on the bottom. Executed prisoners had their hair cut and teeth extracted to be sold to wig and denture makers to earn a little extra money. Adam’s note specified for the teeth removal to come after death. That was not a gesture of sympathy; teeth were less likely to be damaged and thus worth more this way.
Before he could get up, someone knocked on the door. “Enter.” Irene entered, handing him a piece of paper. “Thank you, Irene. Will you take this for me?” He handed her the execution warrant. She looked at it but didn’t protest; Adam knew she’d gotten her own urge for revenge satisfied already.
“If you could take care of this now,” Irene said, gesturing at the paper she’d handed him, “that would be for the best.”
Adam raised an eyebrow, but then unfolded it. Its sender was not noted, but Adam immediately recognized the handwriting. But then, he recognized everyone’s handwriting after he’d seen it at least once, and he’d seen this form a lot more than just once. However now, contacting him at all arguably counted as treason. Only very official channels had access to the Pit.
But he was not going to turn her in, the daughter of the man who’d hired him for this position, especially considering what she had written in the note. She had been quite vague, but he understood what she meant, and in this context could hardly fault her. He got out his quill and a small piece of blank scratch paper and inscribed, in his perfect penmanship, a single word, his answer to her question.
DID THEY MURDER MY SON?
So now we know who gave the answer to Athena. I wonder what she will do to the murderers of her son, something very cruel and imaginative I presume...
That wasn’t exactly a pleasant read, but it was a superb piece of writing. Beneath the icky bits this is essentially a character study of a man fundamentally disillusioned with his job and his wider function in society, a type of profound existential ennui that is very much recognisable today. If not, thankfully, its context.
i really couldn't wait for the grand plan with konon,
yeah it wouldn't be a good look if any wannabe roman emperor get their crown with the support of one of the Rhomania oldest enemies
Hey, the current Persian emperor has his crown due to the support of one of Persia's oldest enemies. Tit for tat
I feel like the Russian warm water port in the Far East issue can be what the Straits Question was to the UK ITTL. Friends till the common enemy stops being scary.
Additionally. Japan and Korea may be friendly now in the face of China, but that may not last forever, especially with the Russians complicating things. Maybe I’m biased but I feel like Japan is a country that eventually will want to expand. Maybe not soon, but at some point. Japanese expansion will put them into conflict with either Russia, China, korea, the Romans, or any combination of them. The situation in east Asia could be interesting.