[h2][center]Holy Empire of Vigentino[/center][/h2]
[center] [i][b]2nd of May, 1905[/b][/i] [/center]

The ‘Sede Centrale’, the headquarters and beating heart of the Imperial Guard of Vigentino was a largely unassuming building; squat, dark and cold. Guards in the dark uniforms of the 3rd Infantry Division, “The Sons of Cogoli” patrolled the perimeter of the building, rifles held carefully as they scanned the crowds that milled around. Within the ‘Sede Centrale’, the High Command of the Imperial Guard, as well as representatives of the Logistics Corps and officers of the Infantry Division, Cavalry Brigades and Artillery Battalions that were scattered all across Vigentino, all milled through the sparsely decorated corridors and rooms filled with charts, maps and reports. 

Deep within the heart of the ‘Sede Centrale’, a low-ceilinged chamber served as the nexus of the Imperial Guard High Command. A table had been intricately carved to become a topographical map of Vigentino and it’s immediate surrounding area. The mountains that encircled the northern regions, the three rivers that wound around Cogoli, and the roads that criss-crossed between the towns and cities. Pope Carlo Bocci absent-mindedly picked up one of the ornate marble figures, scattered across the map, that represented one of the Infantry Divisions of the Imperial Guard. Glancing at it, he saw that the figure in his hand represented the 7th Infantry Division, “The Pope’s Own”, and he smiled slightly, turning it over in his hand as he inspected the angular, carved face of the figure. As he placed it back down from where he had taken it, he heard the door behind him open. 

It was late at night, and the ‘Sede Centrale’ was at it’s quietest, only a skeleton crew of aides, and those on urgent business, still walked the corridors. The Pope had been alone in the chamber, but as he turned, he saw a young Tenente of the High Command step into the room, a pile of papers tucked under one arm. The Pope reasoned that he couldn’t be more than a year or two out of an academy, so he did his best to smile warmly as the young officer glanced up and caught sight of the Holy Empire’s ruler standing before him. 

The Tenente’s mouth fell open, the papers fallen from his hand, long forgotten. He desperately stammered, struggling to find his voice but the Pope held up a hand for silence, shaking his head slightly. 

[b]“Silence, child. I’m merely passing through.”[/b]

The Pope wore simple, woollen robes, far from the elaborate finery that his position often demanded, and as he stepped past the officer, he raised the hood to obscure his face. Finally finding his voice, the Tenente turned after him.

[b]“Your holiness... How...” [/b]

Turning back, his face obscured in the shadow of his hood, Carlo Bocci shrugged slightly.

[b]“I’m an old man, Tenente. I’ve had a long time to learn my way around.”[/b]

With that, he turned a corner in the corridor, and was gone, leaving the young officer staring down an empty corridor, and questioning whether he had really just seen the Holy Pope of Vigentino wandering the army headquarters at night, or whether it had just been a figment of his overworked and overtired brain. Shaking his head to try and clear the fatigue, he turned and began gathering the papers scattered across the chambers floor.

[u][b]OOC: +1 to All Orders[/b][/u]