Artemis

In his name, a beauty unfurls.

Artemis the Peacekeeper, the Peacebringer, the Pious, the Shield of Geminism, and the Father of the modern Artesjan state, he who is known by a thousand titles and honorifics, and rightfully so. His rule brought Artesja forth from its dark ages and then some, placing it as the predominant global power until the crisis of '99.

Artemis' impact can still be felt to this day all through Tempertaria, statues, streets, even towns and cities are named in his honor, which means "Beautiful son" in Pannalian Artesjan.

"He was... the greatest statesman I've ever met, the greatest father I could've asked for, my only regret is that I couldn't have spent more time with him."

— Haeasvethi II

The first psalm

Artemis was born at the dawn of the eighteenth century in Bad Hansa, a small suburb of Karelja. A child of a seamstress and a househusband, he grew up leading his growing friend group in idealistic prayers, war games, and collecting tithes for the neighborhood chapel. The young saint was also lucky enough to be welcomed into a secondary school, a rarity for kids in Artesja at the time.

At the age of 17, Artemis was inducted as a Junior priest at his local church, and immediately made an impression on the believers there. His natural charisma and kindness were seen as a breath of fresh air in the chauvinistic and trying times Artesja was embroiled in at the time.

It was during a warm summer night like any other while he was cleaning the High Priest's office, when he accidentally stumbled across... pictures, missives, of the vilest nature. A plot by several high priests in the Pannalian region to abduct a congregation of Holy sisters coming in from Karillia and disguise it as "typical Fedrian activity". For the first time in his life, Artemis felt genuine, seething anger towards another human.

It was then that a deep blue light shone, and as Artemis turned around, his world was shaken a second time that day.

The avatars of Nesus and Gemiknight had appeared before him, and time froze as they gave him counsel in his hour of broken faith.

"Pious one, we cannot make your mind for you, this is a call you yourself must make. I would advise you to look in the deepest sanctuaries of your mind, the fortress of your piety, and make your decision."

— Nesus

The stirrings of progress

Artemis took the letters, the evidence, everything he could fit in his bag he took. And ran home as quickly as he could, hiding everything under his bed and hoping, praying that he wouldn't be caught until he could do... something, anything.

When the sun rose the next day, the young saint set to work, gathering supporters and staging a protest, near-riot in front of the church, demanding the priest come out and face the justice of the people.

The priest didn't budge, and soon the crowd became impossible to control, storming through the barricaded church doors and rushing up the altar, where Artemis stepped up to impart divine justice:

"You treacherous priest of vice, you conniving rat! You have been placed in front of the altar honoring the gods you claim to serve, that the good people of this church may know any small semblance of justice.

I shall personally see to it that these documents make it into the hands of the Inquisitor-general and the Fourth Estate, I'll have you before a court within the month, be sure of that.

You have corrupted the good word of Geminism for the last time, you insolent heretic.

— Artemis

It was then that the crowd cheered and dragged the priest out into the mud, marching with Artemis in front. The protesters marched all the way into central Karelja, chanting slogans of "Reform now!" and "Out with the old guard!". Until they arrived at the grand cathedral in the middle of the city, where they dragged the old priest further, throwing him inside during Midday mass.

That was when Artemis realized the Arch-priest leading the sermon was implicated in the case too, no good, so he chose a different approach. The young saint read the letters aloud in front of the hundreds of people in the cathedral, avoiding the guards trying to apprehend him. Converting even more people to his cause, they dragged both priests out and hung them from the cathedral tower.

Alz Gehen Demokratija

Artesja in the early eighteenth century was a confederation of states loosely ruled under what could be defined as "An oligarchy of the clergy", priests, bishops, and archbishops ruled in the shadows from their churches and cathedrals while a figurehead king sat on the throne. But what of the people? The best they could hope for was a noble priest, or an inept one. It was no secret that the people had long desired a better form of governance, ever since the catastrophe of the Fedrian War, regular protests and vigilante killings had been popping up all over the country, from city to county. All they needed... was a Leader.

In Karelja, and soon the greater Pannalian basin, Artemis became the foregone conclusion to lead these protests, often clashing directly with Provincial police and the Weraz Garda. "The Movement" as it came to be known, encompassed a wide variety of ideologies, all fitting neatly under the umbrella of "Democratism"; they all desired freedom, fairness, and transparency. The Movement also espoused radical ideas such as gender equality. Up until that point, men had been in a subservient role to women for the most part, with divorces and such usually requiring female initiation. One of the foremost champions of this would happen to be the just-inducted Serene Priestess Eliza of the Geminist Church; some looked upon her with wary gazes, but Artemis brought her to his side for the marches and the rallies, clearly for more than political reasons.

The first of The Movement's victories came as a shock to many of its more respected members, the Fourth Estate, Artesjan journalism, had begun covering them in a favorable light. People came streaming to join rallies and picket lines, saying that they'd read about the good work of "The Artemisian Movement". It all made sense, long had The Free Press yearned for someone to carry the fight to the censors, the oppressors.

"And who better than us, we so-called Artemisians?"

— Artemis

The Torch of Freedom, blazing bright

After two years of activism, multiple attempts on his life, and countless rallies, Artemis found himself in a rut. The bright banners and signs failed to ignite the spark in him that they used to, his speeches faltered, and he could tell the senior members of the movement were planning on replacing him.

He was the founder, the guiding light, damnit! He just needed that spark, that damned...

Spark...

In the late night of the winter in 1721, Karelja was alight with flames, lit by agents of The Movement. Firefighters battled the inferno through the night to extinguish the flames, which all seemed to be burning away from homes and apartment blocks, like someone knew to spare the working people more suffering. In the morning, the Press was quick to blame the Weraz Garda, placing the ball firmly in the Artemisians' court. The Movement had momentum again, and Artemis was ready for the final push, the one to topple the ways of old and truly make Artesja free and kind to all her children.

On May 1st, 1721, 10 million protestors assembled in Karelja, clogging the streets and chanting slogans of freedoms as done before, but the rally was different, the largest ever held in the history of Tempertaria. The huge mass of people had one goal in mind, the Grand Cathedral in the central borough, where Artemis was to deliver a speech destined to change Artesja's trajectory on the world stage, no more the rump state of Tempertaria, no more.

Good citizens of Artesja, Karelja, Swedenhatius, Szaganad, wherever you hail from, be welcome and bask in the glow of your fellow compatriots!

You are all here for one reason, you're sick and tired of the dictatorship of the clergy. The pious should lead, yes, but these fossils on their golden thrones have naught but their own decrees to concern themselves for! They have schemed and swindled Artesja for a millennia now, and now, my friends, we say "No more!" No more corruption and kleptocracy in our land, so idyllic and rugged, No more inequality in our fair and green hills of faith and frost!

As of today, I announce my nomination for Upper-hierophant of Artesja, put forward by all you gentle-hearted and kind people. I know from experience that the gods are kind-hearted and just, therefore I hope with all my heart that you will see my election through to the end.

I will make my intentions very clear for the Collaborators and spies among us, I intend to thoroughly cleanse the Artesjan state of rot, shoot me now of if any of you dare! But democracy dies not by the bullet, not this time, not this day.

...

We are at the dawn of Artesja, my friends! Love eachother, for Passion and People shall be the tenets of our new Homeland!

— Artemis' May Address

Thy crown of Laurel, Thy sceptre in hand

A majority in Artesja, and a passable draw in Rasina, thanks to an old . Artemis had won the Church election in a frankly stunning turnout, the youngest Upper-hierophant ever voted in at the age of 24.

His coronation was visited by over 2 million loyal followers and geminists from the world over. He would be crowned with a golden laurel and given an emerald-green cape that would come to be his most recognizable look. He was paraded all the way from his coronation in Swedenhatius to when he entered the grand cathedral in Karelja.

The process of reform in Artesja began swiftly afterwards, starting with the creation of the People's Hall and State Government. Voting was underway for starting offices in newly formed administrations, and the Kingdom of Artesja gradually began to democratize. One of the primary problems in the early days of the revolution was incredibly low voter turnout, especially in the rural and mountainous provinces, as well as the Sackarti states up north.

One of Artemis' most daring moves in his early political career was to sign away nearly all of his powers in the New Constitution of 1725, giving up all but the privilege of bearing the crown to the Government and his party, the Artemisian Democratic Kadets.

Consolidation

Despite voluntarily giving up the powers of the crown, there was still work to be done in securing the Artesjan democracy. Weraz Garda and newly formed Cassiite gangs prowled the streets while Totalists and Syndicates clawed their way into the freshly de-oligopolised labour unions. To combat what was deemed "Extreme political persuasion", a broad coalition government was negotiated. Composed of the ADK (Reformist Socialist), PPA (Social Democrat), and VDBA-K (Libertarian Left), this was the first ever coalition in the Upper Hall of the Artesjan Parliament.

Along with broadening the political spectrum of the reigning government, a large judicial reform program was passed through parliament in '26, creating several anti-corruption bodies, both governmental departments and NGOs. Some of the Marshalls quit in response to this, though this was deemed more to be fear of getting caught doing something... they perhaps shouldn't have.

A Democracy left of crystal tears

In less than three years, over three hundred million Artesjans experienced the ascent to true democracy. And Artemis began to secure his position even further, successfully bringing electricity to even the most remote country and mountain sides from 27' to 28'. And then enacting a national policy of seizing oligarchs' assets, if said oligarchs refused, they'd face an angry mob at their front door.

Resistance had formed, taken shape. Usually, Artemis would be happy that the threat had at least materialized, that it could be dealt with accordingly. But this time felt different, the chains were very clearly off; bombings of ADK rallies by the Black Army of Thyrimia, the assassination and ritual sacrifice of Wellan Arch-deaconess Miliya Taskov, the resistance against the state was ready to burn it all down. He sought counsel and comfort in his clandestine lover, Eliza Stadtfeldt, who spent night after night mapping new stars and communing with the gods through incense and crystal charms.

The two were darling lovebirds of the revolution, the very image of the Geminist church's urge for reform. Mostly because it was visibly real, after a thousand years of fake promises and arranged marriages, the Artesjan people finally saw a real couple heading their movement. They kissed in public, which up until then had been an enormous taboo; they fought, publicly, and they made up; they were real.

One day, Artemis came to visit Eliza at the Grand Cathedral, her usual place in the central spire. She wasn't there, he checked with the Artesjan liaison to the Foreign Heathen Manager, no dice. He was the Upper-Hierophant, damnit, why didn't anyone know where she was?

That evening, a roll of film was delivered anonymously to the high precinct of Karelja.

"Good evening, Artesja!"

"Today we show the world that Artesja is still the proud nation it was before the Artemisian sodomizers and theives stole our faith and our magic! We show the Artesjan people that there is a way out from the illusion of social progress!"

-Camera pans, Serene Priestess Eliza is shown bound to a Rack next to a white flag with a black Saltire-

"Slit her, Ingheim"

-A hooded figure emerges from the right, bearing a jagged witch-dagger. Eliza struggles against the restraints, the hooded figure holds her arms down and runs the blade of the knife slowly across the Priestess' jugular-

"Hail the New Freed Artesja! Hail! Artesja!"

— -SC 'Gerhard', "The 30's Film"

This was a catastrophe; the film had been distributed both in Karelja and Swedenhatius, and people had seen it, panic set in. Calls to the police asking for safety, no one went to mass, the streets were empty, and something had to be done.

The organization that performed the kidnapping was an until-then relatively small and barely legitimate Fascist cell known as the Artesjan Fascist Movement, or more recognizably, Free Artesja. The Milicija of Pannalia was put on high alert and was made to patrol the streets openly, carrying as many weapons as possible, as if to say, "What are you waiting for? We're right here."

His iron hand crush'd the serpent's head

Enough was enough; these fascist cowards and those who dared to shelter them had to be dealt with. To do this,