The Pale Prince

Empire

The blaring Italian sun shimmered gloriously over the city of Rome, swallowed up amongst the urban sprawl which had grown up around the capital of the once glorious Roman Empire. The tan, Italian people who cluttered the streets of the ancient city were found either within their cars, driving through snaking, beautifully well-kept roads that split up the houses on each different side with their cobbled pathways or crossing over the huge bridges and motorways that cut through the outskirts of the city, either elevator in the air or running along the surface of the city and leading into the main entrance to the metropolis. The country had seen many different eras of history, with the Roman Empire being but one in the big picture of Italy's greater story, a tapestry spanning the generations, flickering in and out of existence after wars won and wars lost.

The city also held a great and beautifully received cultural variation as well. Reflective of the old Roman empire and the days of those conquered - though far less barbaric and slave-like - people from all around the world flocked to the city - where only the Tri-State cities of New York, Moscow and Beijing; the British city of London; the Imperial Indian city of Delhi and the South American Union's capital of Buenos Aires - found themselves to be equal both economically and culturally. One of the many tourists and visitors to the cities was a young woman, her voice betraying her upper class English heritage. A head of brown hair flowed from the top of her head and down her neck and back, stopping just short of the bottom of her shoulder-blades and serving to reflect the sun beautifully, shaking and flickering with the light as the wind blew through the thick hair. Her eyes were dark brown though held something more to them, a green tint that seemed to flicker in and out of visibility depending on how much light was on the woman's face at the time. Her nose was small and attractive, though not too small so as to seem unnecessarily so, whilst her lips were large and pursed together as she traipsed through the streets wearing a tight t-shirt reading 'I love Roma' upon it, leaving only a baby-blue skirt to cover her up from her waist to her knees.

Walking through the crowds with a seemingly odd intent, the girl rounded one of the many corners upon the road and sighed as the space in front of her cleared out, finding herself in one of the many back alleys that lead down into the less visited parts of the city, where the affluent avoided and the poorer members of the capitalist society that had forged the city's riches flourished. Lifting her hand to her ear curiously, the tourist smiled as she pushed against her earlobe. "Where am I going Magister?"

"Ah, it's good that you're back with us Samuels - we could use a Knight right now." The Magister replied through the communications system. Smiling to herself, Samuels - or rather Opal, as she preferred to be referred to by her first name - lowered her hand and continued walking, looking carefully around each nook and cranny as she continued to walk down the streets tentatively, making sure that she wasn't swallowed up by the morass of the poorer districts of the city.

"Yes, quite - that's why you sent me here, is it not?" Opal grinned, continuing to look around at those who were also in the alleyway - the homeless more or less remaining nigh-on comatose as they rested against the various stone walls of the buildings next to them, the high-rises of the city shining in the distance and almost making a mockery of those who were too poor to even own a home, let alone exist in the vast metropolis.

"One of our associates has given us the co-ordinates to an Inquisition hotspot in the local area - a few warehouses on the coast of the River Tiber." The Magister muttered over the communications system, the sound of him clicking his fingers upon a keyboard resonating through the microphone as well as his voice.