Salvation sat a top the hill on a golden throne. He played with the ring on his index finger, twisting it around his slender finger as he watched the battle unfold on the plains bellow. His army swept over the plain from the east just as the dawn broke over the horizon. The calvalry were upon the enemy before the first light illuminated them. A smile touched Salvations lips. He raised his hand, the signal for retreat. The enemy ranks had been decimated. He was only calling off his troops to give these pour misguided souls one last chance to admit to their sins. Those who did would be treated fairly. Those who refused would be made examples in the punishment of sins. Salvation stood, waited a moment before addressing the heretics.

"I am your savior." His words cut crisply through the silence on the plain below. "I offer you your Salvation from this madness. A place in this world and the next. All I ask is that you put down your arms and admit your sins." Salvation raised his arms and let his white robs drape from his them. The sun striking them so they glistened.

"I am a kind god. All I ask is that you kneel."

A hundred thousand men knelt. A thousand men stood. A thousand arrows found thier mark.

This was the efficiency of his army.

Salvation entered his tent just as one of his senior bishops put the finishing touches on the new map. The conquered areas were white lead by a white flag with a golden rising sun. The vast continent all but saved. What little that reamained lay across these plains to the west.

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This is the struggle of the nation of Osceta against Salvation and his empire.

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updated Oct 3 '09 by Elemental