[center][h1][b][color=darkred]The City States of Brescia[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/UMIoQW2.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwfMvrtgegg]Tivoli, In Basilicia Dominae[/url][/center]

The air was filled with the sound of bells, from small to large. It marked the passing of noon, and the ending of the gathering of the Sect of Insight. There were other religions, of course. But the Sect of Insight was by far the most prevalent. Haiki and Meileki walked down the halls of the In Basilica Dominae, Tivoli's largest and most central cathedral. The massive interior was largely empty, leaving the two alone as they strode across the enormous space presented before them. A quite echo reached their ears as the sound of their footsteps pinged across the walls.

Melieki could be best described as lanky. He, as the rest of the Resomi were, was covered utterly in a thick layer of feathers. His were a dull shade of gray, trimmed by what could be best described as a dull, watered out cyan. Standing at a height of 2' 9", he was one of the, if not the tallest person in the clergy. At least for a Resomi. He, as the archbishop of Tivoli, was preparing to open the floodgates of the originally all-Resomi clergy to the other races; stating that it would be a sin against the Lady if he were not to do so. "Well? Out with it!" snapped Meileki.
"I wanted to talk about--" Haiki was cut off.
"If this is about Mystrost again, everyone knows. Our Lady knows. And you know it is a sin to hate them for it. If the Lady is displeased by them, then She will make it known." Meileki heatedly responded.

With that, Haiki broke off and began to forge his own path through the massive cathedral. The cacophony of bells, just then, reached a crescendo as the In Basilica Dominae's bell went off. It was an incredibly overpowering, ring, that flooded out the rest of the bells. The now-departed pair both flicked their ears downwards, careful not to let the ear-shattering rings deafen them. Some would say that the sound was majestic and beautiful, but to the Resomi it was taken to the extremes.

After all, the extremes of art and culture was what the Lady wanted. But nevertheless, the present was the most important of times. Meileki stormed towards the steps that lead to the top of the cathedral, to his quarters. The other members of the clergy moved out of his way, fearful of invoking his wrath. He had a famously short fuse, and sharpened a furious temper. One would be unlucky to be on the wrong side, to be beholden to his abusive words and phrases.

From the top of the In Basilica Dominae, the true power of the Sect of Insight was centered there. All of the bishops of the city states, and even some abroad, answered to the fiery and famously verbally brutal Archbishop. Even through the wars. Even through the long distances involved, and the blizzards, seas, and mountains. The Sect of Insight was a centralized religion, and was ever powerful.

After all, they were funded by wealthy banking families and merchants. Tithes paid for their great monuments to the gods. An overabundance of donations was considered the norm. Thus, the cities of Brescia were filled to the brim with truly beautiful architecture, and the Resomi art schools were world-renowned. Even if a city state were to be pillaged by another, the religious wards would never be touched. To destroy them was to evoke the ire of a rich and oversized church who could go to any means for revenge.

Meileki always found Mystrost a curious place. They placed the credit of the creation of their citadel ward to the organization known as the Church of Insight. But somehow, they considered the Sect of Insight a separate religion. Not only that, but they had committed what could be best described as blasphemy by naming the Patron of the Arts. But yet, it was his duty not to sin. There was no precedent for punishing blasphemy. Instead, if it furthered the arts, architecture, and culture, it was to be accepted.

His hands were shaky. They were always shaky. He felt like scolding somebody. With a short few glances around the cathedral, he scared away the rest of the Clergy. They all excused themselves, rapidly bringing themselves to cover. Meileki continued on to the stairs with a huff.

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[center][url=http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2qjjx5]Outside of Nostras[/url][/center]

The day was cold, but clear. A crisp breeze blew through the air, the sun shining brightly upon the sheet of snow covering the landscape. It, too, illuminated the work of Resomi soldiers and mercenaries of other races as they prepared bombardes. First, they cleared away the snow. This was an arduous task, the crew taking a shovel to the thick layer of snow that covered the hilltop. It would have to be cleared all the way to the slope.

It was very much clear that a battle was soon to take place. It was a perfect day for it, after all. Once the work was done, and the snow was cleared, the bombardes were ready to be set up. They were large and heavy enough that they likely wouldn't move during the battle. Meanwhile, across on the other side of the battlefield, the enemy's artillery operators did the same. It was just a small drop in a larger war, but to the soldiers there it meant life and death.

First they unhitched the bombardes from the sled they used to haul them around. With a heave, they rolled it off of said sled. Next, they moved it into position, four of the auxiliaries picking it up. They were humans, and proved to be much stronger than the Resomi operators. Of course, unlike the other city states, these auxiliaries were not mercenaries. Instead, they were people who lived in Tivoli and became part of the Tivoli militia. They were as loyal as could be.

Next they removed the cartridge cases. Within each one was a set of heavy, cast iron cannonballs. Along with them was a plentiful amount of gunpowder charges. While they wouldn't load the bombardes right away, they certainly prepared to do so. The Resomi operators would handle the mathematics, while the human operators would load and fire the weapons.

It was a perfect day outside. The sun was shining, when it was normally covered up by clouds. There was a light breeze in the air, sending small tufts of snow tumbling about beautifully. It was such a perfect day as the sound of marching boots filled the air. Yes, it was very clear that a battle was soon to happen. 

The two sides would soon meet each other, as artillery batteries prepared their bombardments. The two sides were going to reap what they had sown, and soon the battle outside of the husk of the city that was Siasa would be on. Each side was looking to advance their power, and the best way to do that was to take the city. Therefore, on the fields outside the city, each side looked to achieve victory and occupy the burned halls.

The banners of war flew in the breeze, as the Tivolians and the Sicialians made their fateful march towards each other. The two sides were equally matched, both having brought arquebusiers, pikemen, and bombardes. The bombardes themselves began their duty, shelling the enemy liberally as the march continued. Ever onward the soldiers marched as both sides were slammed by the cast iron balls.

Soon enough, they met in the middle of the field. The Sicialians stopped dead, their arquebusiers locking their shields into the ground, attaching the guns to a hook on the top. After doing so, they opened fire on the Tivolian Militia. The militia stood in place but a brief moment, several Resomi dropping to the ground as they were shot.

Suddenly, the Tivolian militia spurred into action. With a synchronized battle cry, they launched their attack. The hundreds of bodies charged full scale at the waiting Sicialians. Their pikes held out, the two masses collided. The Sicalian soldiers met the charge with their own pikes, however their line collapsed backwards. The arquebusiers were exposed.

To meet this opportunity, the Tivolian arquebusiers hooked their guns to hooks built into the shoulder guards of the pikemen, and fired. The close-range bullets slammed home with ease, the inaccuracy of them not mattering at such close range. Dozens of enemy soldiers fell.

The artillery batteries zoned in, creating a bombardment zone. This forced the two sides to disengage, and with a few parting shots, they kept a careful retreat as errant artillery balls slammed into their positions with questionable results. The zone that had been so carefully established had been broken apart by the retreat.

On both sides, there were dozens of casualties, and soon enough both sides would send out men to retrieve the wounded. It was one of the unspoken rules of Brescian warfare. You didn't stop the other side from retrieving their wounded. However, there too laid many dead. Ultimately a loss for the Sicialian soldiers.

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[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wI7phwtRjUA]Inside the walls of Nostras[/url][/center]

Micisha mourned the loss of Nostras. She mourned her city. She mourned the dead, and the lost. The city had been burnt by the Order, and while at first the combined forces of Brescia arrived to assist, soon they were fighting to fill the power vacuum. The sad husk of the city was her new home.

From Bishop of the Sect of Insight, below only the Archbishop, to a lonely survivor of the Order in a ruined city. Ironic. She doubted she'd ever be returned to her seat of power. At one time, she controlled large swathes of the city. Now, she simply hid from scavengers and wild creatures as she kept herself fed with what food remained in the ruins.

Her robes used to be white, Meicisha thought. White at one time, maybe. She couldn't remember. They were a dark gray now. Soot and dirt had left their mark. She rolled in snow daily, but there was only so much the snow could do. Today, she was on her way towards the central cathedral. Cathedralis Sancti Caerishi, she thought. Was that it's name? She had no use for the name anymore. Her memory was slipping. It'd been so long since she'd talked to anyone.

Loneliness was all she could think of as she picked through the ruins of the city, every once and a while coming across a skeleton from a slaughtered resident. The city was in a sad state, and it only furthered her despair when the din of another battle filled the air. The fools were fighting over a worthless city. There was nothing there but the dead.

Weakness. Too weak. She knew full well that she wasn't as strong as she used to be. Her coughs had been bloody for a while now. Trouble breathing, and trouble keeping awake. Her eyesight was dimming. What was happening to her? That much, Mecisha did not know. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was the Lady's scorn, maybe it was pure lack of luck, or perhaps it was just the malnutrition getting to her. Food was getting rarer and rarer to find, yet she couldn't bring herself to leave.

It was her city, damn it. If she were to die, she would die in it. It was her duty. Perhaps misguided, perhaps not. Her legs wavered as she climbed through a burnt-out ruin of a house. She was so close to the cathedral. If this was her last day on the world, she wanted to spend it in the center of the faith she so believed in.

Her breathing got labored. So close, just a block off. She'd make it yet. It was her goal, Micisha had to. The entrance of the cathedral came into view. Slowly stumbling towards it, she reached the steps. And then she collapsed. So close, yet so far. She desperately tried to crawl. She had to die in the cathedral.

Her vision failed her as she slipped into unconsciousness, her hand mere inches from reaching the doorway of the blessed Cathedralis Sacti Caerishi. So close, yet so far. Micisha lived but a few more minutes after her loss of consciousness. But yet, the world had not released its grip on her. Perhaps it was the Lady, refusing her call to enter heaven. Maybe it was pure will. But her soul wasn't allowed to pass. It was blocked.

Micisha woke again a few hours later. No longer alive, however. The curse was upon her. But, then again, going west sounded like a great idea. The thought beckoned to her. It flooded her thoughts. With a few short moments before doing so, she decided this was her purpose. She'd go west, find what beckoned her. After that? The Patron of the Arts, the Lady, would reveal.

It was her duty. She was a bishop at one point. Her world was the Sect of Insight, even into undeath.