[h1][center][color=orangered]Bes'eshe Sethokpara[/color][/center][/h1]

The Sun rose over the proud city of Alexandria, in the wake of the Fall of the Egyptian Deities it had become a province. A word she despised. Though she was born under Roman regime, Bes'eshe was far nobler than the Northern Barbarians. Lifting a proud chin to the Eye of Ra. The most common symbol of her father's pantheon. Her thick auburn locks, something not overly common among the local populace, were brushed back under a white hood. Already people were in the streets, though that was never uncommon. Business was till noon and the people were loathe to work in the sun high heat.

Then again, most people weren't her. Turning from the stone steps of the [i]domus[/i], a Roman Villa, the sandals tapping down the steps. Her shendyt attracting stares from Romans and Egyptians alike. Men's clothing was [i]never[/i] seen on a woman. Her robe flowed openly behind her, the top knotted close over her torso wrap in a modest display. Proud steps carried her down the through the streets and small alleys between houses. She passed 'justice' being done upon poor souls who spoke against the Romans or were judged fairly or not. She spared no glance for justice that should have fallen to Anubis's hands. Soon she stood before a small shrine, the great temples from well over a hundred years ago converted to the worship of the cursed Olympians. Kneeling before the shrine, dark hands laid a offering of a stone statue of a war chariot. It wasn't much, but [i]he[/i] preferred battle to little trinkets. From the shrine she heard the drilling of the Romans and hatred blossomed in her. 

The high apartments behind her were already abuzz, but no Egyptian would notice another at a forbidden shrine. A unspoken rule, a quiet rebellion. Bes'eshe cursed silently that they had been reduced to the level of the little cultists that popped every so often. Touching the statue of Ma'at, she quelled the need for battle. It was not time yet. [color=orangered]"Not yet, first power must be consolidated."[/color] Looking to the shrine she faced she touched one of the many amulets of protection and safety she wore. She leaned back, sitting as she poked the statue of Set. Carving out settled pieces of sand, lazily, as she thought about the weakened Pantheon she called family. The tramp of Roman feet grew louder as they came down the street. Romans had turned cruel when a group had rose up in rebellion against them when they had tried to levy more taxes. Taxes, and laws, that was Roman iron. Green-grey eyes flashed in anger. They were the embodiment of Apep as far as Sethokpara was concerned.

[h1][center][color=black]The Morrigahn[/color][/center][/h1]

Gods, how dare they do this? The Phantom Queen sat upon the great table that was center of the ancient standing stones set to adore her and the other ancient Gods. Black eyes closed in grief at the fallen warriors that should not have joined her so soon. For all her wont to have more fighters at her disposal, this was hardly the  way. Roman's had a strong foothold in the Southern part of the land, but her Pict warriors were rebelling in the North. A savage smile graced the Warrior Queen's lips. Her fair and ancient face filled with a fierce pride. For the Romans feared the powerful and mighty Pict. They feared the ancient gods had granted them power. And they had.

Not in the conventional way, but when the battle horn sounded she walked with the charging warriors that battered at the Romans. Dragging down five of them before they were killed. Already her priests were spreading the unrest and unease, challenging those who had the strength to rise against the opposition. To restore the ancient ways. Looking out over the fields of the barbaric invaders she gave a shake of her head in mock amusement. How was it that such danger came from the same force that they could thrown seashells to recede the great channel that served as her people's best defense. How such foolishness and stupidity caused such harm amazed her still. But that was the human way. Standing she turned from the fields and the town far below. Crops shying away and withering as she cast her long shadow over them to look to the rising sun.

Now to have a word with a power that be.