[b]Aboard the Royal Barge. Empire of Arkush.
[/b]
	
	The Arkushite Royal Barge was a luxurious craft. A large pleasure ship built by the previous King of Kings, equipped to entertain the most decadent of nobles for days as it lazily floated through the river. When Tikulti-Arkusha took the throne and started his fight to restore the Empire, he decided to maintain the Barge. It had become a symbol of imperial power by now, and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed every scrap of legitimacy he could get his hands on. Specially in those intense early days when he had to march across the nation put down revolts and breaking the power of the nobility. 

	In the following five years the standing of the Crown had improved greatly. The private armies of the nobility were a thing of the past, the Empire could now field a standing army of well equipped and trained professionals. And though still a problem, the corruption within the bureaucracy had been considerably lessened. And during all this uphill slog, the Barge, with its concubines, eunuchs, musicians and other entertainers had become a welcome escape for the King of Kings and his close retainers. 

	This time however, the Barge wouldn't be providing entertainment, but instead serving its second more secretive purpose. Emptied of all but the closest and most loyal of servants and loaded with a precious cargo, the vessel departed in the darkest hour of the night, when Fen-Garzhi was still high in the sky, from the Palace complex's port. Sailing silently through the canals of Tell Arkush. 

	From his silk-lined divan in the stern tower of the Barge, the King of Kings could see the faint forms of Tell Arkush's spires finally disappearing beneath the horizon, leaving only the vast, deep blue waters of the Almarah River. On the other side, far beyond the prow, the colossal shape of Arkush rose out of the waters. The volcano slowly growing closer as the Barge sailed towards its island. Looking at the sky, Tikulti could see that in a few hours, Fen-Garzhi would to give way to Katush. It was time to start the preparations. He should send for his daughter.

	And as the servant scurried away to carry out his orders, the King of Kings jumped to his feet. Pacing along the spacious length of the tower top, he prayed silently to Arkush. Begging and pleading, as one must do when speaking to the higher powers. For a safe travel to the bosom of the Universal Queen. For wisdom and strength to face the coming days. It wasn't Tikulti's first visit to the Goddess' Island, not by far. But he could feel something in his bones that left him with deeply unsettled. The priests could feel it too. Something monumental was bound to happen in the near future. That's why he was sailing to the Island this day, three months before the usual date every six months. Tikulti sought answers and reassurances. Both in his capacity as King of Kings and Grandmaster of the Order of the Flaming Eye.

	The Order was one of the many mystery cults of the Empire. These cults were organizations for those whom simply visiting the temples and obeying the scriptures simply wasn't enough. For those who wanted more, or different, answers than those the priests could provide. Tikulti had joined the Cult decades ago, even before succeeding his father as governor of Supharmesh. And now it was his daughter's turn to join the ranks of the Order. True, 10 years was a rather young age to be initiated in the Mysteries of the Eye. But as the future ruler of Arkush, the King of Kings couldn't afford to delay her development. And ignoring everything else, the political influence her daughter would eventually wield as respected member of the Order of the Flaming Eye would surely help her strengthening her reign just as it did his.

	A knock caught Tikulti's attention as he gazed at the distant volcano. The King of Kings turned his to see the same servant emerging from the stairs. The man bowed to him, touching his forehead to the ground, as is custom, before rising up and declaring:
	
	“Thy will is my purpose, oh King of Kings! Let me present you the Princess Innana and her guardian!” The servant bowed again and returned to his corner.

	And on cue other two figures reached the top of the wooden tower. The horned, red and armored form of Carmush,  the Anahir bodyguard and the princess herself, dressed in the light red and black silk uniform of the Order, loose fitting shirt, a thick red sash around the waist and pantaloons embroidered with holy symbols and glyphs. With the Flaming Eye of Arkush taking prominence, emblazoned on her chest. Tikulti gave his daughter a slight smile as her bodyguard bowed to the King of Kings.

	“Are you ready?” The King of Kings asked, kneeling before his daughter with a smile. “We have to start the preparations soon.”

	Innana nodded excitedly, a large smile gracing her childish features.  “Yes, dad!” She chirped. “I have learned all the tools and all the process and can I joi-” 

	Tikulti shushed his daughter with a hand on her shoulder:

	“Calm down, my princess. I get it that you're excited but mind your manners.” He reprehended her gently. “You are but an initiate. And your duty today will be just that. Now put on your mask and remember to do your duty to the Order.”

	Properly chastised, Innana blushed in embarrassment and nodded. The King of Kings stood up and nodded slightly to Carmush, who remained stoic as always, to lead the way down to the lower levels.

	The Princess retrieved a masterfully crafted brazen mask, sculpted to resemble a grinning Banik, tied to the sash around her waist. The King of Kings walked over to another corner of the room, retrieving his own mask from a cabinet. It was a beautiful thing. Crafted to resemble the divine visage of the Holy Goddess. Made of gold and decorated with jewels and rubies. Though it had no lower jaw, letting his braided, bejeweled and oiled beard spill forth.

	The trio then descended the stairs of the tower, heading straight towards the bowels of the Barge.   Where the precious cargo was being held. 50 prisoners, a mix of infidels and heretics from all the nations around the Empire itself. Men and women who, despite their sins and foulness in life, would be given the chance to honor the volcano in death. But before setting foot on the Island they had to be prepared properly.

	The prisoners were all chained close to each other in the back of the room, naked, dirty and scared. Several guards and servants stood by the corners and the door, they bowed as the King of Kings stepped into the room.  A few prisoners had enough willpower left to glare at the newcomer, but by this point most of them had been broken by long torture sessions. Some of which the King of Kings had presided in person in his capacity as Grandmaster of the Eye.

	Silently, Tikulti moved to a large table near the center of the room. He gestured for the guards to bring the first prisoner to him as a servant handed Innana a plate filled with several kinds of blades and other torture instruments.  His daughter's body language, Tikulti noticed, had slipped for a moment before she regained her composure. He didn't blame her, she was still young, in time she would get used to it. Just as he did when he entered the Order.

	The guards finished strapping the prisoner to the table, a middle aged Antiochian Crusader with fiery red hair. Tikulti stepped closer to the torture table, taking a moment to analyze his charge. The man was breathing hard, eyes wide trying to focus on something inside the dark room. His whole body was covered by a sheen of sweat, dirt, blood and scars and marks. A mix of old, faded reminders of old battles and the work of the Arkushites tortures. The more noticeable was a diagonal cut running from his shoulder to his hip, it was faded but the sheer size managed to catch one's attention. His nose and fingers had been broke recently and if it weren't for the torture scars marring his body, Tikulti had to admit, the Crusader would be a handsome man.

	The Grandmaster extended a hand and the Initiate handed him a blade. He noticed with slight satisfaction that it was the right one. Holding the already strapped head with one hand, he leaned closer to the man. Bringing his other hand, and the blade, closer to his face. The Grandmaster had to be careful now, the eyes were a delicate part of the anatomy. A single slip would kill the man, and that wouldn't simply do. The prisoners had to reach the Island alive, but being infidels and heathens, they aren't worth of seeing the Goddess in Her earthly glory. And so their eyes had to be cut out. Alongside with their tongues so that they wouldn't blaspheme on holy ground.

	The work lasted for a couple hours. Tikulti cut out the eyes and tongue while his daughter held the plate with the tools of his work close by. As soon as he was done, servants would take the prisoner away to tend to his wounds and make sure he wouldn't die before his time while the guards were already dragging the next one to his table. Now the King of Kings, still dressed in the clothes of the Grandmaster's office, and the rest of his party of guards, prisoners, servants and lesser members of the Order, were sailing in smaller boats towards the Holy Island. The Barge was too large to dock directly on the small pier maintained by the Banik, who would also provide the necessary guides and some of the supplies necessary to reach their destination.

	On the leading boat, Tikulti sat besides his daughter. She had behaved as well as one could expect given the circumstances, handing him the correct tools and observing the proper protocols and behavior for every step of the process.

	“You did well back there.” Tikulti told his daughter, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as she leaned on him. “Don't feel ashamed for what you felt. The first time is always hard, it was for me and I'm sure your mother didn't fare any better. What matters now is that you maintained your composure. In time you will get used and even grow to enjoy to it.”
	
	She, looked up at him, whatever emotions she had were covered by the grinning Banik mask, before looking away to the ever approaching Island.

	The trip went smoothly, and so did the docking. By the time the entire party was ready to depart, Kaftush had already replaced Fen-Garzhi in the sky. If they maintained a good pace they would reach the Goddess by midday.

	Their Banik guides made sure to pick the best route towards the Volcano, and so their trip went smoothly. For despite being day, the Servants of the Goddess insisted on bringing many torches and herbs. These herbs, when burned, released a smell that drove away the giant insects that inhabited the Island. Tikulti's own servants had come equipped with the appropriate blades for clearing the jungle. The trip took them through deep, thick jungle, fetid swamps and the remnants of colossal architecture. 

	The ruins still impressed Tikulti, no matter how many times he passed through them. There were no words to truly describe their scale or variety. From mere half buried marble columns to colossal walls of glossy, shiny black stone that looked as if it was made of a single titanic bloc. And the engravings! Such a variety of runes, glyphs, symbols and scenes! Most of them completely incomprehensible but of such unknown beauty and elegance.

	It was in one of those ruins that the party stopped for a short rest. The prisoners needed to be watered and fed if they were to survive the trip. And truth be told, they all needed a short rest after walking hours to end. The ruin itself was a colossal half-cracked dome of the same shiny, glossy, smooth black stone. It was probably big enough to fit at least a quarter of the Palace Complex back in Tell Arkush. Tikulti could only dream about the actual size of the rest of the building. 

	After seeing to the prisoners, the King of Kings found himself walking over to his daughter and her bodyguard. The Princess sat somewhat further off, back turned to the group, resting atop a pile of stones and admiring a mural.

	Carmush saw the King of Kings approach and quietly stepped away to give them some privacy. The King sat besides his daughter, who was too engrossed with the exotic and incomprehensible mural on the dome's wall. 

	“Do you know what this means, dad?” She asked, finally turning her head to face him. Without the mask Tikulti could see that she was still a little pale and shaky. “I can't make anything of the scriptures and the images…are those strange tentacled things supposed to be descending from the stars?” She finished, pointing toward a particular session of the mural. The scene depicted, in red engravings over the black stone, a field of what Tikulti supposed could be, among other things, stars. And from them descended a mass of tall, thin things with bulbous heads and tentacles? The images were too faded to be sure. And the inscriptions were also indecipherable, and looking too closely for too long at them actually was starting to give him a headache, though at the same time it was getting hard to look away.

	“I truly don't know.” Tikulti replied, tearing his eyes away from the mural. “To be honest we don't know much about anything in this place. The Banik aren't very forthcoming about answers and the Goddess has yet to give us the answer to this particular question.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Though you shouldn't worry too much about it. It's not your place to do so, at least not yet.”

	“Did-did I disappoint you, dad?” Innana blurted out, eyes wide as she looked up at her father. “I couldn't help but look away as you...you worked on the prisoners. “I know I should have looked but I couldn't.”

	“You did well, dear.” Tikulti replied as he leaned down to embrace his daughter. “You're still a child. Don't worry overmuch about it. You will soon get used to these necessary cruelties. Not only for your role within the Order but also for your role as Princess and future Queen of Queens.”

	“Necessary cruelties?” Innana asked, somewhat unsure.

	“There's a place and a time for everything.” Tikulti replied sagely. “And just one must rule with fairness and righteousness, a wise ruler will also know when to employ ruthless and swift retribution upon  his or her enemies. The hard part is knowing which situation requires what kind of approach.” Before she could wonder further he noticed something laid by her feet. “And what do we have here?” Tikulti asked as he leaned down to take the object.

	“I found it nearby, dad.” Innana replied as the King of Kings studied the thing. It looked like an idol of dark red, almost black, stone. A humanoid figure sat upon a square base filled with strange inscriptions. Two small stone torches rose from the base, their flame almost seemed to be dancing before his eyes. The figure itself looked like a naked, tattooed woman, or at least something looking very much like one, sitting atop a throne. It was incredibly detailed, almost lifelike. But something on it left the King of Kings very unsettled.
	
	“We aren't supposed to take anything that isn't offered to us.” Tikulti said sternly as he handed the idol back to his daughter. “Put it back where you found it and put your mask back on. We are moving out.” He almost jumped out of his seat before remembering to keep his composure. 

	The rest of the trip took the rest of the morning, but went smoothly. By the time they reached the  Volcano it was midday and Kaftush shone brightly in the sky. Tikulti was sweating by now, from the combined heat of the sun and the proximity to the Goddess Herself. Though any discomfort caused by perspiration was nothing compared to the bliss of being so close to the warmth of the Universal Queen. The Banik guided them through a path along the Volcano that led them atop a crag in the Volcano's length. And in down below it a river of lava was flowing. It was time to finish this once and for all them.

	The Grandmaster took position near the edge of the rock. He spread his arms and looked towards the imposing and distant top of the Volcano as he started chanting and singing the Holy Words of the Eye. The rest of the party, save the Banik joined in as the prisoners were led to the edge of the crag. The Grandmaster kicked the first one down and his chains dragged the other 49 down with him. The rest being too weak to resist the falling weight of their comrades pulling them towards their doom and the guard shoving and kicking at their backs. The sheer heat of the lava killed the prisoners before they even hit the stream but still they screamed as they fell down. An agonizing, strangled sound coming out of ruined throats and mouths. 

	The Grandmaster and his cohorts continued to chant until the last sacrifice had been consumed by the lava. And only then they allowed the Banik to guide them down from the crag and to start the long trip back towards the dock through the thick jungles and ruins ancient beyond imagining.


[hider=TL DR]
-50 Eleutherians are thrown to the Volcano
[/hider]