MysteriousD
Star Fudge
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2014
The New World is a revolutionary place to say. Ever since its discovery, it caused a widespread spread there for colonial purposes or serving as a dumping ground for the outcasts, misfits, religious minorities or so on that was not wanted in the actual homeland along with potential resources. Under normal circumstances, everything would've been all right. However, around this time, a strange star alignment occurred and shifts in the cosmic order realigned. The magical began returning. The alchemists found unparalleled success and the New World's strange monsters came out along with the polytheistic customs got real power behind them, allowing the indigenous people to fight back with frightening vigor. The Spanish found their colonial empire lost as quickly as they got it as the people there either surrendered or assimilated. The intellects who fled to the New World or went to studied were essential in helping to bring order to the chaos and new nations rose up, all while Europe had to deal with the return of beasts long thought gone and ongoing religious debates as it seemed the forces of the Abhramic faiths were being tested.
One such place was the Kingdom of Mexico. Formerly the Viceroyalty of New Spain, the subjugated indigenous peoples rose back mightily with their restored mystic rites and alognside the enslaved Africans and the mestizo or mixed-blood folk, solified their claim over the area and working to maintain their hold. From the ashes of the viceroyalty and of the empires before it rose a glorious new nation. The Kingdom of Mexico was a constitutional elective monarchy. The powers of the crown were limited by laws and helped spread the different facets of powers among a court system and a legislative body. As for the kingship itself, the process was selected through the old ways. Chosen by a council of elders, nobles, and priests, he'd be selected from various candidates who showed great promise or was needed, serving until his time was up. The crown could be inherited from father to son if vetted properly and such was the case of Diego Vendrix. His family was of humble origins, being glassblower mestizos, yet his father would rise up to become a prominent administrator of merchants and guilds. He would end up nominated for the crown and passed. Diego, being the firstborn son, would be in line to inherit the throne, unless some of the other nobles or candidates would try and honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they tried. The Renaissance was still going on, and things remained the same.
Meanwhile, Prince Diego had been walking over countryside to keep an eye on things. Granted, it would be raining soon and he knew that he would need to find shelter somewhere.
"A house? Here?" Diego said as he saw one on the ledge on the shore. It was built in a different style. But he ran to it, hoping whoever was inside would let him in...
One such place was the Kingdom of Mexico. Formerly the Viceroyalty of New Spain, the subjugated indigenous peoples rose back mightily with their restored mystic rites and alognside the enslaved Africans and the mestizo or mixed-blood folk, solified their claim over the area and working to maintain their hold. From the ashes of the viceroyalty and of the empires before it rose a glorious new nation. The Kingdom of Mexico was a constitutional elective monarchy. The powers of the crown were limited by laws and helped spread the different facets of powers among a court system and a legislative body. As for the kingship itself, the process was selected through the old ways. Chosen by a council of elders, nobles, and priests, he'd be selected from various candidates who showed great promise or was needed, serving until his time was up. The crown could be inherited from father to son if vetted properly and such was the case of Diego Vendrix. His family was of humble origins, being glassblower mestizos, yet his father would rise up to become a prominent administrator of merchants and guilds. He would end up nominated for the crown and passed. Diego, being the firstborn son, would be in line to inherit the throne, unless some of the other nobles or candidates would try and honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they tried. The Renaissance was still going on, and things remained the same.
Meanwhile, Prince Diego had been walking over countryside to keep an eye on things. Granted, it would be raining soon and he knew that he would need to find shelter somewhere.
"A house? Here?" Diego said as he saw one on the ledge on the shore. It was built in a different style. But he ran to it, hoping whoever was inside would let him in...