Location: Fubar in the Orkney Region
Timeline: Sixth Age, Summer to Fall, 51
Ah, the little human mind. Such a fragile, intricate, and utterly predictable thing. I watch them, these tiny specks of dust, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of what you mortals might call… amusement. They chase after power, after love, after trinkets of gold, completely oblivious to the grander game being played with their very souls. And yet Ramssee was one of the better players I’ve seen. He didn’t just chase after these things; he was a true connoisseur of the chase itself. He loved the intricate dance, the subtle manipulation, the slow tightening of the noose.
Although his plans were repeatedly delayed, Ramssee took it all in stride – relaxing again in the soothing comforts of a steaming bath at his private villa. Sitting in an oversized tub, female attendants came to call upon him every candlemark to ensure his spa remained heated to his desired temperature and to infuse a variety of essential oils into the water to increase his enjoyment. In addition to the aromatherapy treatment, the servants scrubbed The Steward’s body with exfoliating loofahs, massaged the muscles of his shoulders, neck, and arms, and even manicured his hands and feet while he continued to enjoy his soak. They also provided “other services” as he might desire.
Ah, this is the life. Ramssee oozed contentedly.
He was a fool, of course. He thought he might escape from the nuisance of the external world, but sadly for him, there was no escape. And yet, his little bath gave him a fleeting sense of control, a moment of calm before he stepped back into the chaos.
His first problem – the excitement over the Deepest Depths had a lifespan of a mayfly. A quick, glorious flash, and then… nothing. Cael’s miners, bless their thick-skulled hearts, had managed to punch a hole through the rock, a mere fist-sized opening, and then were unable to dislodge even a pebble more. It was like a child reaching for a forbidden cookie jar, only to find the lid jammed. The tantrum that followed was a sight to behold.
Kaoz and Ramssee went absolutely mad. Their little hopes, built up so high, came crashing down with a deafening thud. I could feel the tension, the rage radiating from them like heat from a kiln. They were so close to tearing each other to pieces, and honestly, a small part of me was quite eager to see what would happen. But Ramssee, my little protégé in the art of malevolence, had a better idea.
“Cael,” he had whispered, his voice a sibilant hiss in the echoing halls of his villa, “the foreman. He promised us a breakthrough. And now… this.”
Kaoz, ever the brute, needed no further encouragement. He dragged the poor foreman to Ramssee’s estate, and the ensuing interrogation was… well, let’s just say I’ve seen more pleasant things. There were screams, oh yes. So many screams. Cael’s pleas for mercy became a litany of broken promises, and in the end, his body was nothing more than a broken vessel, tossed aside like a discarded toy. A shame, really. I do so enjoy the sound of a good, prolonged agony. But I’ll admit, the gruesome finale had its own aesthetic appeal. The earth drank his blood, a testament to the fact that vengeance, no matter how misguided, has a certain… power.
It was however a grand mistake – and their second problem. For their little act of petty cruelty, meant to satiate their frustration, only served to set them back even further. Because finding a new foreman to take on the task of the cursed Deepest Depths Project was a herculean task. The mortals, they gossiped, you see. A whisper here, a shiver there, and soon the tale of Cael’s fate was a cautionary campfire story told in hushed tones. Finding someone with the courage, or rather, the avarice, to take on the job was hard enough. Finding someone with the skill was almost impossible.
Enter problems three and four: a fuming Kaoz and an increasingly erratic Diked. So, he turned to his own devices. The soothing bath was one. The constant, insidious manipulation was another.
As the Summer turned into Fall, the Royal Steward had to continually tip toe in his management of Kaoz. Ramssee was confident that he could eventually persuade Kaoz into giving up on The Grim and returning back to Ramos to start his desired life with Inanna, but the viperz had to walk a fine line because he didn’t want to goad Kaoz into leaving without taking Diked with him. Unfortunately Kaoz’ rage having to hide in the shadows again was worse than ever and it took many a sacrificial prostitute to satisfy the gray beast as the women of the night of Fubar suffered dearly during this period.
And then there was Diked. The young king, so easily swayed, was a dream to manipulate. Ramssee’s method was simple yet brilliant in its execution. He didn’t forbid Diked from being king; he just made it seem… dull. He’d sit with him at night, pouring wine, and instead of discussing politics or mining operations, he’d turn the conversation to the past. He’d ask about Ramos. About the Palace of Delights. About the sweet, heavy scent of the jungle air, the sight of the Double Pyramids reflected in the clear waters of Lake Oro. He’d ask about her.
Inanna.
And oh, how Diked would talk. He’d describe the vibrant colors of the Passion Parties, the taste of the exotic fruits, the very feel of Inanna’s hand in his. Ramssee would listen, nodding, encouraging, his subtle questions guiding the king’s memories, polishing them until they shone with a preternatural glow. He made the past seem grander than it ever was, and the present seem drab and gray in comparison.
Diked’s nightly ravings about Ramos also gave my little viperz a treasure trove of intel. The smuggler’s port, the fearsome labyrinth of Thulsa, ruled by that grotesque cult leader Ssu-ra-Valdivar, blood rituals, and more.
“It’s a fine city, Fubar,” Ramssee would say, a gentle-voiced lie. “But it can’t compare to the splendor of Karkamesh, can it? The waterfalls… the endless gold… the goddess herself… those are things a king should experience. A king like you, my lord.”
And Diked, the foolish, lovestruck boy, would feel a pang of “homesickness” – a deep, aching longing for a life he had only just begun to lead, but which now, thanks to Ramssee’s psychological poisoning, seemed like a distant paradise.
The king’s anxiety grew with each passing day. He was a fish out of water in his own kingdom, desperately longing to return to the Ramos. He began to harangue Kaoz, begging the myz to take them back to Ramos. And Kaoz, trapped by his promise to Inanna, his own rage and frustration simmering just below the surface, would repeatedly refuse – reminding the man that Inanna had commanded they not return until they had The Grim. This created the most beautiful little tension loop. Diked pushed, Kaoz resisted, and Ramssee sat back, watching his plan unfold like a blooming lotus.
Meanwhile Diked, in his desperation, did exactly what Ramssee hoped he would do. He threw more and more resources at The Deepest Depths. He stripped the other operations of collecting wealth and instead poured them all into the opening The Depths. And as he did so, the flow of gold and gems into the city of Fubar slowed to a trickle.
The mortal lords, the dukes and barons who lived for their baubles, their piles of glittering treasure, started to grumble. Lord Joras, Lady Moony, and others started a grumbling that soon became a low hum, a constant background noise of dissatisfaction. And the common folk, who had tasted a bit of prosperity, were now feeling the pinch as well. Their resentment, instead of landing on the shoulders of Ramssee, the man who had always been their champion, fell squarely on the head of the absent king. The people remembered life under Ramssee, when the Steward walked among them and was so generous, so kind, still distributing what little he could from his own stores, and now they saw Diked, who had taken away their good fortune and kept it for himself as he remained locked within his palace while they starved.
This was the true beauty of Ramssee’s plan. It was a masterclass in shifting blame. He was not only making himself seem more powerful and benevolent, but he was also positioning himself as the only logical successor when Diked’s rule inevitably faltered.
Through it all Ramssee’s star shined brighter and brighter. He continued his backroom dealings with the Orkney Lords– promising much for any who supported him when he eventually made his move for power. During his charitable events with the common citizens, he ever reminisced about the recent years of plenty they had all experienced when he ruled the lands – delicately planting seeds in their minds that he should be their leader again. And with Diked, the viperz continued to provide his trusted council – ever assuring the young king he was making the right political decisions but at the same time continually advising him that taking another business trip to Ramos would be a savvy personal maneuver if the young king really wanted to be an international player.
All of this caused Diked to return again and again to Kaoz. On more than a few occasions, the myz was so upset with Diked’s pestering that he was ready to murder the misguided youth – in fact, the only thing that stopped the myz in these instances was realizing that he would be doing exactly what his nemesis Ramssee wanted him to do.
And yet, despite all his scheming, by the time the Winter of 51 rolled around – and the Akka miners had to shut down their operations again until the following Spring due to the especially frigid temperatures and frozen equipment — Ramssee realized he was no closer to achieving his goals than he was since his last conversation with Shedu Mezai. This fact did not make him very happy, for Ramssee knew that I could be coming for him at any time and he was not yet in a position of power to resist me. Fool that he was, the viperz plan was to install himself as Emperor of Orkney – and soon – in the hopes that such a position would enable him to escape my clutches
Kra! I even tried to get rid of Diked by convincing that little pest to go visit his forsaken fiancé again! The viperz recalled – still languishing in the steamy confines of his bath. Yet the stubborn twit wanted nothing to do with the girl. Always speaking of Inanna – ha, as if that goddess really cares anything about him!
Even still, I am not ready to let go of that option. His mind countered. I still believe that letter of postponement I wrote to Merrill Finch was a wise move. For why should I throw away that merchant’s generous dowry? That’s easy money. If nothing else, Diked should at least marry the bitch, bring her here, and then find a way a dispose of her! Oh what simple minds I have to deal with – how much longer must I be saddled with you?
The door clicked open behind him, interrupting his thoughts as a Monnick entered the room.
“Ah, its about time,” Ramssee said, without looking back, “this water’s been getting cold. Where have you been?”
The naked woman didn’t say a word, instead she picked up the big jug of warm water from a nearby table began to pour it into the Steward’s tub – however rather than empty her ewer into an open area, she instead dumped it square onto Ramssee’s head!
“Sppra, splu, what in tarnation are you do—“ The viperz began angrily.
Monnik’s laughter filled the room as entered the tub herself and then reached over to muss up Ramssee’s hair before sensually rubbing her wet body up against his. Although Ramssee was initially miffed, his ire quickly dissipated by the woman’s caresses.
“I have good news.” Monnik whispered in a husky voice, as she playfully bit on Ramssee’s right ear. The woman had worked her way back into the viperz good graces when she discovered how much of a dolt Diked had become AND when it became clear to everybody at court that Diked’s days on the throne were numbered. “The boy idiot likes me.”
“Excellent.” The viperz smiled. “Together we can surely find a way to influence the gnit. One way or another, we’ll get rid of him.”
“And then you will be King again!” Monnik rejoiced, before adding, “And…”
Ramssee smiled. “Yes, dear — and then YOU will be my Queen.” He lied.
The pair spent the rest of the evening making love in the bath and then contriving another nest of plans to use against Diked and Kaoz – blissfully unaware of the terror that was coming for them.
The Apocrypha of Azazel 