A hidden building, deep in the Arasdal Jungle, 7:13 hours
“Cardinal Walsh,” a man in a disheveled, vaguely military, uniform spoke, enunciating his words with clear care. “I have a question for you, or more of a request, Your Holiness,” the man finished, bowing slightly.
“Ah, yes, Colonel Moore. What could you possibly need me for, valiant son?” The Cardinal answered powerfully despite his advancing age. The bald spots were now more common than his hair, connecting to each other to form less spots and more general baldness, and liver spots had begun to show up. Creases ran from his eyes and the corners of his mouth, looking like tree roots growing on his face.
“Well, Your Holiness,” the disheveled young colonel responded, running his hand through his brown hair and giving the Cardinal a tired glance with his sunken eyes. “We’ve discovered that the blasphemers are moving a fairly lightly protected shipment of heavy weaponry to one of their mining camps- protection against us and the bear panthers, we think- and we’re going to strike the shipment. We were hoping you could bless the soldiers and the mission before we departed?”
“Of course, son,” Walsh replied, gathering his robes and following the Colonel. “It would be wrong of me not to bless such an important mission in the of Oromias, of course.”
Arasdal Jungle, Route 113, 14:25 Hours
“I don’t like this, sir. We shouldn’t be out here without heavier protection,” the private manning the machine gun turret of the jeep nervously said. “I mean, crazy religious extremists would be bad enough, but with bear panthers as well, I just don’t like it.”
“Quiet son,” the commander of the column spoke to the private. “We’re transporting sensitive things, we can’t draw attention. And even if we could, there’s no way they’d send any large groups out here to get slaughtered. Smaller groups move better in the jungle, you know that.”
Elsewhere in the column, silence reigned. These were experienced soldiers for the most part, but travelling deep in the jungle with only three squads and their jeeps to protect another three trucks made everyone nervous. Most had never seen a bear panther, but they’d all heard of them, and there wouldn’t be much they could do if they ran afoul of a pack. They didn’t think the extremists were stupid enough to move through the jungle, at least, but that still didn’t give much solace.
It proved even less solace when one of the soldiers shouted across the column without warning. “Shooters in the tre-!” was all he got out before a bullet whipped through his head, introducing his brain to his seat. The Rohanian squaddies scrambled to defend themselves, but three more had fallen to the ground before they could fire back.
“Keep calm!” the column commander shouted, shooting at a quick glint in the underbrush and getting a satisfying scream in response. “There can’t be that many of them!” He continued, as the rearmost jeep flipped over in a ball of fire. “Watch out for explosives,” he attempted to shout, but found himself flying backwards into the trees on the other side of the road instead. His vision was blurry, but he could tell enough to see an RPG had apparently gotten his jeep. He figured he was fortunate to be alive until he saw rebels in stolen equipment crawl out of the jungle and began to pick through the wreckage. One in particular seemed to notice him, a tired looking man with bags under his eyes, and approached.
“I would say I’m sorry,” the man spoke in a cold voice, “but I am not. Blasphemers and heathens do not deserve to live, much less rule. You can take your heretical atheist ways to the hells with you, cretin.” At that, the man rose his hand and shot the commander in the head, killing him. “Loot everything you can, boys! The had weapons, and possibly food! Everything helps!”
A hidden building, deep in the Arasdal Jungle, 23:19 hours
“Cardinal Walsh,” Colonel Moore began reminiscent of earlier that same day, “We found an artifact in one of the trucks they were using to transport things. It looked like objects for experiments, but this was out of place, and seemed special. You should see it.”
“What was it you found, though, my son?” the Cardinal asked the Colonel, yawning as he got up and looked for his robes and shoes. “It must be amazing if you woke me in the middle of the night to investigate it.”
“Yes, Your Holiness, it is. You see, we found a saddle… none on the strike team were qualified to analyze it, of course, but it looked so strikingly like the Supple Saddle from the great tapestry we could not believe it to be a coincidence!” the military man whispered excitedly, eagerly waiting for the elder to get ready.
“If you are correct son, it would be a clear sign that it is time to overthrow these atheists and restore Rohane to its proper religious roots! Lead the way, so I may examine this portent! And contact Mister Patterson in Calihain… it may be time to call in the favors the black market owes us.”