Boile's Autocracy

An image of an unnamed planet within Boile's territory taken from a copper chain within orbit.

## Designations

### Aliases

* The One Man Nation
* Boile's Playground

## Societal Information

### Dominant Species

Travi

A nation that rests in a massive expanse of dead ashen planets. Countless rocks of lifeless and cold metal riddle this black void that barely exists within the confines of normally life dense galaxy of Sinister. Within this huge dark blanket of uninteresting and cell-less space, there is a single life-form; Boile, the copper bishop. With his god-like ability to bend copper to his will, this single soldier from the planet of Limehold crafted an interplanetary nation. Androids and automated electronic systems connect and link to each other across the empty cosmos, mining and farming for energy and resources for this robotic nation's only living inhabitant. Him.

## History

On the technologically adept planet of Limehold, a man by the name of Boile laid hunched over his wife’s urn. Even with the immense medical knowledge of the most advanced civilization in the galaxy, none of it could bring her back. Crushed by the weight of loss upon his churning stomach, Boile decided to rent a traveler ship. He did not know where he wanted to go, he just needed to go somewhere. Everything he had was lost. As his newly obtained space craft lifted its metal body off of the bright surface of Limehold, Boile closed his eyes. He imagined his lover’s pearly smile, and the way it always reminded him of their future together. She always told him about the seventy kids that she wanted. Though he was indifferent about children, he loved the way that she rambled on and on for hours on end about her dreams to have a titanic family. Her voice tickled his ears like lightly plucked strings. His voice fried as tears jumped out from over his eyelashes. As he opened his blurry eyes, he was exposed to a bright light. The High-Warlock stood ahead of him, as if begging him to approach. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, Boile mindlessly pushed his control forward, telling his ship to speed at the star-like entity before him.

Boile’s gloved hand shook as he broke off a crystal from the High-Warlock. The fragment rolled around in the palm of his hand. It looked so eerily similar to the crystal in the promise ring he had given to his wife when they were still in tech school.

Now in possession of abilities from the Warlock, Boile used the last of his fuel to land on a desolate planet, just outside of Sinister’s red grasp. The sharp limestone crust of the terrestrial object that he sat on was so far from the center of the galaxy that the High-Warlock was nothing but a speck on his pressurized suit’s visor.

Though grief stricken and love starved, Boile grew bored. The view of the rest of the galaxy above him was gorgeous but the natural ruby beauty only reminded him of his lost maiden. He lifted his arms, pulling strings of copper out of the thick crust beneath him. Clouds of dust were kicked up into the atmosphere-less, low gravity void as he constructed copper towers and houses like toy blocks. He carelessly constructed giant polished copper playground slides, gargantuan sculptures of himself in multiple different weird costumes, skyscrapers that were bound to collapse, and rather phallic “art” pieces.

### Boile's Playground

As the days passed, the lonely rock afloat in the dark void became covered with copper structures. Copper plated nuclear power plants that automated powered factories littered the massive and plentiful craters, allowing Boile to construct much more than copper objects at a fast pace. This lonely hobby continued to expand as he mimicked the design of the traveler shuttle that he arrived on. The many densely packed, lifeless planets around the one that he initially arrived on were quickly engulfed in copper structures as well. Pristinely polished, shiny machines and automatons roamed each of the planet, constructing countless devices as well as artificially forging minerals necessary for Boile to survive. In his lonely paradise of copper toys, Boile often remembered his wife with memories of sadness, though he had gotten quite skilled at transforming his melancholy into what he called art. Each building he had pieced together was covered in beautiful patterns and highly designed copper sculptures. It was time consuming but he had nothing else in his life of true meaning.

### War Against the Order

As Boile’s self built nation rapidly expanded, an equally large nation, the Order of Cobalt Sorcery, became frustrated. After their extreme loss to Aria Woolwork of Limehold, the Order feared fighting a bishop for thousands of years, even going as far as fleeing entire planets at the mere sight of one. After these countless decades of escaping and cowering in fear, the lead strategist of the Order, Huri, suggested attempting a full scale attack on a bishop in order to heal their reputation as weak cowards. After careful thought, Huri chose another bishop that was born on Limehold; Boile. He was chosen not only because his nation had an absent military but because Vyro of the Six Siblings strongly advised in attacking someone from Limehold to show how much they have grown.

Boile laid on his back, stretching against the shiny copper ground as a ship that he recognized from Limehold landed beside him. He tiredly looked over as what appeared to be a female messenger Travi approached him. The woman handed him a piece of paper. Boile took the letter cautiously with his copper gloved hand. The paper contained a formal warning about the Order of Cobalt Sorcery’s plan to attack, written by Aria Woolwork along with the designs for a Dexter Rod. With a chip of confusion resting on his nose arch, Boile thanked the messenger as she flew away. He took a long sigh, sitting up with foggy eyes, the writing of Aria blurred in his vision. Exhausted from the pain of life, Boile seemed to gain an optimistic flare. Perhaps this incoming cobalt war will give him more of a purpose to live. With a lazy wave of his hand, the copper mechanical arms that constructed devices for him swiftly built a shiny rose gold plated dexter rod for himself. He did a double take as he looked at the final instruction of the note Aria made for him. It informed him that to make dexter rods stronger, he could remove the very center of a star and place the solid material at the ignition point. Although an absurd suggestion, Boile liked the idea of doing surgery on a star. There was one in his territory after all; he named it Pirant, after his wife.

Sending a satellite sized sphere of copper through the blazing surface of Pirant, Boile aimed for the core, a determined expression splashed across his brow. It felt like he had his hands stuck in mud, blindly searching for a lost object or something. He felt something solid touch the molten copper sphere, like a cage, he opened the mass of copper before dragging it out of the burning ball of hydrogen and out to his ship. The now baseball sized white hot copper barely had any mass left as he returned it to him with a luminous orange crystal peeking out of the falling apart metal. After the crystal cooled, he dropped it into his newly made dexter rod, giving it a bright, pure orange blade of twisting plasma.

Boile stood tall, looking up at the starless sky, his cloak waving in his copper planet’s artificial wind. Blue ships darted through the diluted blackness above, very obviously ready for attack. Boile ignited his dexter rod, leaving the copper floor underneath it warped and steaming. Like graceful tissues in the wind, six blue figures leaped from the ear splittingly thunderous ships above. The six figures landed with a powerful stomp, each wearing black capes and blue armor. The Six Siblings have arrived.

* “I won’t lose to another bishop again,” Vyro screeched.

In complete synchronization spinning plasma blades were ejected from each of the Six Sibling’s dexter rods; five blue and one deep violet. Like swarming bees the siblings charged at him, their dexter rods twirling around them like the blades of a molten blender. Without even needing to move his body, the copper buildings around Boile twisted and contorted to protect him. Kraken-like tentacles of orange metal dove in to block each of the attacking siblings' blistering strikes. The six attackers raised their arms as cerulean minerals rose from the ground and spun to face him like a compass. Chunks of cobalt as large as buildings began to run towards before being completely dismantled by coin sized copper hands. Though he thought he should feel fear, Boile was calm. He wasn’t afraid to die, he just utilized his extremely honed skill of building like he always did.

Each of the six siblings were swatted away like flies as Boile shifted his style to a more offensive stance. Rings of copper that spun around him gained spikes as even copper from other planets began crashing into the battlefield around them like missiles. The dirt seemed to gain worm-like patterns as the trace amounts of copper within it began reacting to Boile’s creative mind. Though most of the Order seemed to be drastically weaker than him, two siblings in specific seemed to be getting stronger and angrier as time went on. Vyro and Pheo tore through the Boile’s defenses as they dove to shield him. Pheo’s strength came from his ability to control cobalt while Vyro’s came from her immense physical strength. Thick copper walls seemed to crumple from being merely grazed by her dexter rod. Boile became looser and less defensive as Vyro and Pheo began slowly gaining ground on him. He put a small bit more effort into the fight, moving his body along with the metal that he controlled.

The battle seemed to rage on for days and then weeks as the scale expanded. The Order called in battle ships to provide cover fire as Boile took to space, standing on a copper platform to propel himself. Moon-sized spheres of cobalt and copper crashed into each other, providing an even more chaotic battlefield for the fury-filled bishops. Like sparkling whips, Boile swung semi-liquid strands of orange metal at the blue warriors. The Order retaliated with their own many fast moving blocks of cobalt before stopping dead in their tracks. The now, fear strangled order looked on as unexpected reinforcements arrived to aid Boile. Limehold’s prime warship roared as it darted into view. Vyro’s eyes glistened with hatred as she caught a glimpse of Aria Woolwork aboard the shuttle.

In Limehold’s signature show of strength, words spelt in planetary amounts of iron flickered in the light of the Warlock. The exo-planet sized sentence read, “Last chance to flee. Again”. This intimidation tactic seemed to only make Vyro and Pheo angrier. In their rage they relentlessly attacked both Boile and the Limehold mothership almost simultaneously. Like a choreographed dance, the two switched places rhythmically, exchanging muscle tearing attacks to the two enemy parties. Huri, the strategist of the team, seemed to stay back while the battle of blue and orange exploded in front of her. Boile’s entertained smile only seemed to grow as Vyro managed to get close enough to force him to block her heavy swing. Though he didn’t care about the outcome of the battle, he at least had good entertainment during it.

As Aria Woolwork stepped onto the desolate exoplanet, caked in copper dust, the clashing of metal began to dull. It was as if the very sound that wrung through the minimal atmosphere stepped out of her way. She looked up to the black sky at a moon passing overhead. Without even moving a cell, it was split open like a blooming flower. Molten appendages of iron born from the satellite’s core reached towards the planet, aiming for the Six Siblings. As Aria entered the battle, everything seemed to accelerate. Copper, cobalt and iron flashed through Boile’s empty domain faster than the eye could even catch. Short lived sparks flew as the three elements collided and ricocheted off of each other. Blue, purple and orange streams of plasma exploded like fireworks in the jungle of loud collisions. Boile’s pointed eyes darted around him as he swung his dexter rod with enough power to crack a tungsten planet. His copper chunks and dust sped around him to protect him like a metal hurricane. He could feel any contact that his metal made with foreign objects as if it tickled his skin. Though there was something odd about it; there were only ever five heated points of contact at a time. Shouldn't there be six? He snapped his head around, quickly shooting his sight through his black realm of space. Countless meters away he saw Huri, the fourth sibling seemingly calling someone? Boile turned to Aria who was viciously battling Vyro. As their eyes met, she realized what was about to happen. Ear shattering booms pounded against their hearts as ships from the planet Tyrig appeared above them. Order of Cobalt Sorcery Insignias were crudely painted on each of the thousands of ships. Like spiders out of an egg sack, the hivemind known as Apiary threw her countless bodies out into combat. A bafflingly enormous amount of pale blue dexter rods ignited as the swarm of bishops approached the battle, adding osmium to the clashing copper, cobalt and iron.