Blood of the Houses
Massacre at the Capital, October 15th, 1797
It was night as the first snow of winter fell upon the cobblestone roads of Argena-Hersa. Following the trickling of white petals were the cold soft winds that breezed through the many alleys and corners. On an average day, even one as cold as today, there would be people still out about. It is a tradition to greet the first of winter as a joy of a new year but this year is a differing story. Recent events have occurred, along with the mixtures of rumors, and people are frightened. Hiding themselves in the warm homes, they peered out into the dark streets to catch anything. Not even the pleasuring women are around, fearing for their lives.
When the bells of the local church sung the chorus of nine did things start to stir on the streets. There were many footsteps imprinting themselves on the soft layers of snow. The rhythmic beat, the marching sounds, all nodded towards soldiers. They wore different banners of allegiance that confused the citizens that were still awake and observing. There was not a single Imperial Eagle donned on their left arms. Where the proud colors of the empire once were, were the colors and the symbol of a different nation. Did Eraphalia surrender to a foreign nation?
Some knew of the transpiring event. They knew who the soldiers served and they knew of the order that has wrapped itself around Eraphalia. The Technocrats as they like to title themselves. They are the real rulers of Eraphalia, unlike the misguided and naive nobility. As news slowly trickled through the cities as brave neighbors conversed with one-another, their mood only plummeted. The loyalty of the common people were still relatively loyal to the nobility. It was naturally considering the good fortunes that they have brought to them. However, loyalty is nothing but a declaration if none had the will to back it up. The few that did were placated by their families or driven back by the ruthlessness of the soldiers. Not a single riot took place as many hid themselves, unable to watch what was about to stain the history books of Eraphalia.
The first clue of what the new rulers wanted was the dragging of the living bodies of the House of Hickers. Through the snow in their sleeping attire, the struggling family of nobles were nailed to pre-assembled posts. Curiosity brought out the watchers in the snow, despite their beloved ones protest. The captain of the infantry watched as a small crowd of tired and confused citizens formed around the posts. Only ordering his men to keep back the observers, he waited for the trickles to build up. Then, after ten minutes of tension, the captain strolled towards the Head of the House, James Hickers.
"Citizens," the captain tipped his hat towards the crowd, "tonight is the beginning of a new era in Eraphalia! One which bring prosperity to all of us. For long enough have we suffered under the misguidance of the nobles. It is time for the common men, for the free men, to take control of what is rightfully ours! As by orders of Director Richards, we hereby declare the execution of the nobles of Argena-Hersa as a demonstration of what is to come. We will begin with the House of Hickers and by tomorrow morning, not one single noble soul will live to see the sun. Citizens, here I begin by drawing first blood."
Without waiting for the response of the terrified audience, the captain drew out his revolver before aiming it at James. The last thing that James saw was the grinning of the mad captain as he pulled the trigger. A burst of fire and not even a single second later, James' head impacted the wooden post. From there, the captain moved from one family member to the next with the audience only able to watch in stunned horror. By the time the captain was done, seven fresh bodies were displayed as their blood trickled downwards to greet the snow.
"Now," the captain slowly reloaded his revolver, taking the time to observe each round, "you all will crawl back to your little dens and watch as old justice takes place. I warn you all that if you help the nobles, you are a traitor and you will be hang. Now," the captain pointed his finger towards one of the corpses, "if you help us, you will be a hero. To repeat myself, you all have three choices: help, die, or run. What will it be?"
Carrying on from that, the execution of the nobles proceeded as the streets paved themselves in blood. By the time the first trickles of light greeted the sky, the sewers ran with blood. Along the streets were the corpses of the supporters of the nobles, the terrified innocent, the bastard helpers of the technocrats, and the villainous soldiers. Despite the large support of the citizens, the last noble died from four gunshot wounds. Carrying onwards as the sun rose to take its throne in the sky, the royal family were brutally beaten to death. As the night fell, several hundred citizens joined in the pile of corpses.
October 15th wasn't even the last day of the massacre. A week later will the rest of the country join in on the bloodbath as citizens turned onto each other.
Eraphalia plunged itself into civil war.