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A call to arms.
Posted: 20 Jan 2007 03:19 AM |
He sat alone in his drab little room above the Four Winds wondering quietly just what he had gotten himself into. No one else seemed to be making an effort, just making excuses, so he had drafted a crude plan. Byron had agreed, with some minor assurances, to lend the Aristi's name and reputation. He had honestly hoped to be rejected, it would have been simpler that way.
Where should he start, how would he convince them, the questions came unbidden and laden with doubt. But it was started now, and pass or fail he would try. Putting his doubts aside he took the first step and put quill to parchment and began drafting an announcement that he hoped would rally those willing to fight.
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An announcement posted all over Vives
To all who read this message, now is the time to set aside our differences. Be you of any race or creed, we all now share a common enemy!
The Atalan seek to seize the surface lands, to starve us into submission, to claim what is ours. This can not go unanswered!
They have driven the Dwarves from their halls, raided The Port and Brandibuck. They have burned Gladden to ash, even the White City is not untouched by them!
I have, with the support of the Aristi drafted a plan for the defence of Buckshire, I ask that all those who wish to strike back at our enemy set aside their personal feelings.
There is no aid to be had but what we can provide for ourselves! Stand together or die apart! Do not wait for rescue that is not coming, together we can end this threat!
Rally under one flag, march side by side, avenge those who have fallen, bring justice to the Atalan!
Any who are willing to hear me out, any who are willing to aid, send word to the Four Winds Inn. We must use what we have left before it is to late for us all!
Together, and only together can we survive!
Signed
Fennigan
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"There," he said as he finished posting the last copy of the announcement. "That should get people talking. Now for the hard part." |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 20 Jan 2007 03:46 AM |
He was walking through Port Royale looking for Fennigan when he saw the announcement. Too late, he thought, as he read the words twice over.
He had hoped to talk with the hin before something like this had gotten out, explain to him the nature of what he was doing and the political intracacies of dealing with the various groups. He winced involuntarily as he reread the announcement, noting what we would have written differently.
And then he stopped and berated himself. This is exactly what we need, he thought to himself. It doesn't speak of polish and flowery language, it speaks to exactly the situation at hand. It felt real. He could feel the anger and the spiriti of the hin in the writing.
It was a good thing. Cedrych had always liked Fennigan in a way, but it was impossible to trust him. In the past, he had heard a story or two about Fennigan that made him look askance at the hin, and he always wondered where his true motives lay.
This should be encouraged, he thought. Let Fennigan, and hopefully others, be the voices for now. People would expect the Aristi to be yelling about it. But a hin, perhaps a dwarf (as he thought of Balthor), and others...people might really be moved to action. And perhaps the Aristi could be the quiet glue that held it all together long enough.
He continued his patrol through Port Royale, looking for Fennigan, only now to compliment him on his work and begin the hard task of preparations. |
The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for...
-- Ernest Hemingway |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 20 Jan 2007 03:33 PM |
The dwarf's deep voice echoed through Ka'azim's lobby, as he stood on Shamn's desk. A dozen less-experienced wizards listened to him, nodding absently.
"I recognize a few'a yer faces. Yer all some of Ka'azim's top students. I respect each one've ya fer yer accomplishments." A few grins crossed the faces of his audience.
"Ye've no doubt heard of th'relentless attacks by th'terrible grey elves on th'Mainland. Fer now, Ka'azim remains untouched by their assault. But that doesn't mean that we're not responsible." Heads bobbed slightly, some whispers rising up through the speach.
"So many are dead. Those faces'll never smile. Those eyes'll never open again." The dwarf looked down, for effect. He could hear people shuffling uncomfortably. "Many of those faces were faces I recognized. Faces you recognized. Friends. Family. Kin."
"We cannae let the Atalan destroy our world, an' our way of life. Wizards of Ka'azim, we are gatherin' anyone we can! Wizards, warlocks, assassins, soldiers! We need yer help. T'gether we'll put them dang elves back in their hole!" Many heads were nodding again, following along with the arch-wizard's words.
"Yer names'll be remembered! Some of ya might fall. But t'die in th'most important battle of our lives is t'die wit honour! T'wait for death... T'wait for death is t'die alone." He looked at each one of them as he finished, and he hopped off the table, walking out.
"Think on it, Ka'azim." |
- [Rob], Balthor, Jake, and Thomas. |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 20 Jan 2007 10:13 PM |
Waiting. Since the first attacks. Waiting to find out what was going on. Waiting for help. Now he waited for answers. Still no letter from Byron, still no reply from that idiot mayor. Would both arrive to late? Would it even be needed?
There were those who claimed they knew the solution. But he was not one of them. He had no idea what he was doing and he was well aware of that fact, but at least he was doing something. Something other than waiting for some secret plan that no one could know about to magically solve the problem.
He sat alone in his room once again writing quietly, drafting another letter to be sent to those who might be willing to send support.
A copy sent to those in charge of Port, the Mirghul rangers, the Dwarves in Ikrian bay, and Winky in Brandibuck.
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Two those who receive this letter,
I request your aid in preparation for an almost inevitable attack upon Buckshire by our common enemy. There is little left untouched by these invaders, and we must join together in its defence. All those with skills to offer are welcome, construction, tactics, alchemy, we will need all of you, prepare to join together.
I await permission from Buckshire to go forward with this plan, and request that those of you willing to send help make ready to depart at a moments notice. I have included a copy of this plan for your inspection.
*Drawn at the bottom of the parchment is a crude map of Buckshire and the trading post with markers indicating locations of barricades, patrol paths, locations for archers, notes indicating the usage of the guild house as an infirmary and sleeping quarters, and the ale house as a mess hall.*
With the aid of the Aristi, and representatives of all those people who wish to send volunteers we will form a council, together we will finance the defence of this town and then the eventual retaliation upon the Atalan. But we must act quickly, I await your responses.
Fennigan |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 21 Jan 2007 12:08 AM |
*The following letter was sent to Fennigan. It bears the seal of the Novus Aristi and the personal seal of High-Paladin Byron Lorian*
This letter of Marquee is hereby given to Fennigan, who in good faith operates now as an agent of the Novus Aristi. The Novus Aristi do support the plan to refinforce and take command of forces in Buckshire, as a defensive measure against the Atalan incursions. Let it be known that, in truth,the Novus Aristi will come to the defense of all who request aid.
*signed*
Byron Lorian, High-Paladin
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My name is Byron Lorian....I am the Last Son |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 21 Jan 2007 12:26 AM |
*Forwarded to Finnigan*
I will gladly take command of any crossbows or other skirmishers you might have. I can also provide arms and equipment for any bodies you can provide.
Hans Wilhelm, High Ruler of Wilhelmia |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 21 Jan 2007 03:39 AM |
*A letter delivered to the Harpy addressed to Hans*
I thank you for your reply, all help is appreciated. As things sort out expect to hear from me, I will take you up on your offer.
Fennigan |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 22 Jan 2007 03:01 AM |
Progress, supporters had come forward. Some at least. Access to ships, access to weapons, people willing to aid the cause. There had been a few of them, most being that odd sort of folk who only come out of the woodwork when no one else will answer the call. But that was what we needed. People with special skills, people who wanted to see this thing through.
He'd been getting advice as well, from several fronts:
"Make sure they realize that it isn't just about Buckshire."
"You may not be a general but you're going to have to act like one if you expect people to listen."
And of course the detractors, the ones who knew the right way to do everything he was trying to do. They had a hundred reasons why it wouldn't work, or how to do it better. But none of them bothered to do it themselves. That kind of advice was the most unwelcome, but also the most often presented.
Balthor had told him that he would have the mayor agreeing soon enough. That was good, another step in the right direction. But what about troops. Bodies as Hans had called them. He'd sent out word but heard nothing back. Perhaps it was time to circumvent local governments. Speak to the people directly. Speak to their hearts. Rather than asking for people to be sent, ask for people to come willingly. Time was running out the longer he delayed but it would have to wait till morning, then he would call out to the people directly. |
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A call to arms.
Posted: 22 Jan 2007 07:48 AM |
*A runner arrives early in the morning. The message reads, simply:*
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At your service, m'lord. Alexi Sorvika will rally to your cause.
*scrawled below is his contact information*
============================================= |
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A call to arms.
Posted: 22 Jan 2007 09:47 AM |
Reaching the General's hands, a parchment is folded in three parts upon itself and sealed with wax. The outside reads:
To the General of Buckshire
Breaking the seal reveals the following:
Esteemed General,
First of all General, I thank you for stepping forward. Buckshire needs decisive leadership. We are fortunate to have you.
Second, Buckshire appears difficult to defend, and yet its farmlands and trade are integral to our survival. There are several problems to solve in this regard. Unfortunately I do not think we have the time or the resources to take them all on. But it seems to me that we do not need to defend the entire township. The primary resources to defend are the people and their produce.
I have discussed the need for protecting Buckshire's grain with Disin. He is in agreement with me, but feels that the problem is lack of resources to build them. While we do not have time to build a castle, we can make use of existing buildings. There is an old tower in the Buckshire trading post. I believe there is time to fortify it. This would be an essential grain storage facility. I see its advantages for two reasons:
One it is already built which saves time and resources.
Two it is well located and will be easy to use for storage.
As for defending the people, I have no strategem to offer. It seems to me that we need two things for them: an early warning system, and a place of refuge.
Furthermore, if you have need of me, I pledge you what aid I can offer. I am currently outfitting a ship to restore Port Royale's navy. Progress is good, I should soon have a frigate and crew at my command. If this is any help to you, I offer the aid of myself and my marines. I can be reached at The Happy Harpy.
Yours,
Corbin of Port Royale |
Famous last words:
Mykal> it's my new wireless router.
* > Mykal has quit (Ping timeout)
Vulpina> Hey!! IRC didn't boot m.....
* > Vulpina has quit (Exit: DarkMyst WebChat) |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 22 Jan 2007 02:44 PM |
"Yer involved heavily in Ka'azim, aye? Here's th'problem." Fennigan explained quickly, allowing little time for Balthor get a word in edgewise. "Y'see, the mayor of Buckshire's a real superstitious fella. Every day, he gets his horoscope delivered to 'im by Ka'azim. I figger that's where you come in. All ya gotta do is switch out his horoscope for one that'll get him to accept our help."
Balthor sat back, chuckling slightly. The fate of the world resting on a little subterfuge, and playing on a gnome's superstitions. He nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
Darkness. The sun rose casually over the horizon, giving light to two silhouettes on the docks. A small pouch, and a scroll changed hands. The same scroll, delivered to the Mayor's house. Unfurled, it read as follows:
Darkness looms over the horizon. Halflings may bring an offer you should not refuse. Accept an alliance for the betterment of all. |
- [Rob], Balthor, Jake, and Thomas. |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 22 Jan 2007 03:50 PM |
He carefully reads over the newly arrived correspondence and smiles before setting about writing replies.
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A letter to Alexi Sorvika
Alexi,
You have my thanks, all help is appreciated. As we are still awaiting confirmation before we move into Buckshire in force, the only job to be done is recruitment. Spread the word, call for aid from any you can. All things may prove useful. Seek whoever is willing. We may stand in Buckshire, but we fight for everyone.
Fennigan
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A letter to Corbin
Corbin,
I thank you for your response, your help is very much welcome.
You are correct that Buckshire wont be easy to hold, but I see little choice in the matter. The town has the advantage of still being untouched by our enemy despite their proximity, as well as having close access not only to the coast, but to a known entrance of Underath.
Protecting what stores there are will be vital as well, and I think I know just the individuals who may be of use in this regard. A gnome named Scoopers, and his shovel. I take him to be exceptionally adept at digging. While a building can be burnt down, a well conceled cellar however can not.
It will also be important to divide our stores, and keep the locations as secret as possible, but still close enough at hand to be of use. Never put all your eggs in one basket as they say. The tower would make an excellent location for part of our storage problems, but perhaps simply for what will be necessary to have immediate access to.
I believe that an associate of yours Hans has several good ideas in regards to bringing warning to the citizens in case of attacks, though a place of refuge is still unselected. Depending on the speed with which Scoopers and his shovel can work perhaps one can be constructed to the south of the town proper.
What we need most immediately however are supporters, willing fighters, and better yet willing and experienced ones. It would be of great help if you could go to anyone you can think of and do everything you can to convince them to join our cause. We defend not only Buckshire, but all those who are enemy of the Atalan. So that pretty much includes anyone you could think of.
The barbarian clans could be of great use, the Arito, the Aceini, and while I'm unaware of their name, the barbarians who occupy the lands below Firkrag. I do not know the likelyhood of their support, but you never know until you ask. If you could attempt to contact them this would help greatly.
Fennigan.
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 23 Jan 2007 03:10 AM |
The world was perfect again. The war was over. He walked along the streets of a newly rebuilt Port Royale and out to the coast. Even the undead had been driven back into their temple. Pausing long enough to wave at Captain Highliner he continued toward buckshire and took passage across the sea.
The ship soon approached the shore of Ladriel, he disembarked and made his way through the woods to his old home of Brandibuck. The reconstruction left the town looking much as it had. The temporary grave sites had been moved to a place of honor near Swiftfoot Lagoon. The fields were full and green, and the stream side was populated by flowers and sweet smelling herbs of all kinds. After a quick stop at the Mountianhand Bakery for a bite to eat, he then went on to the Inn for a drink. The scene that greeted him was one he knew well.
The smell of tobacco smoke and ale was like an over-friendly hug from a long lost friend, welcome, but slightly overwhelming. At the bar he ordered two ales and went to sit at a table of off duty guards to catch up on some of the local gossip. But the peace he felt was not to last. Faintly at first he heard a sharp repetitive noise, it seemed distant but clear.
"Did ya hear that?" He asked his companions.
They gave him a slightly confused look and answered in the negative. "Oh, alright then. Guess I was hearing things," came his reply.
Raising his drink to his mouth with a smile he began to sip *BANG BANG BANG* louder this time, loud enough to shake the very walls, he flinched and spilled his ale.
"Bloody hell! What is that!" he shouted as he jumped to his feet.
The inn went quiet, everyone began staring at him as though he were the crazy one.
A voice, faint but clear called out "Sir, are you in?"
"Don't you tell me you didn't hear that either!" he screamed to no one in particular.
As he glanced from face to face trying to see if a joke was being played on him the forms of his kin began to undergo a change. Their eyes took on a pallid grey coloration, slowly they stood in unison. Skin and muscle began to peel away from bone falling to the ground with a sound that could only be referred to as a squelch.
The walls faded, the chairs and tables followed after, but the abominations continued to move towards him. He was no longer within the confines of the inn. The scene around him was strange, an amalgam of horrific images. Parts of places he knew combined into an impossible landscape on all sides. Port burning next to parts of Brandibuck, piles of bodies, Hin, Humans, and Dwarves. The fields of gladden behind him, simply ash covered mud now, to his left the farmlands of Midor burned brightly under heavy smoke.
His mind reeled, This was impossible. How could all these places be here at once? Then he felt it. The rotting forms had closed in on him. Hands slick with blood and rot grabbed at him, dragged him down to the ground, faces he had once known looked upon him with twisted imitations of smiles, then slowly opened their mouths and bared their teeth ready to devour him alive.
*BANG BANG BANG* "SIR!"
He startled and shot upright in his bed panting heavily sweat dripping from him soaking the sheets.
"Yes, what?" he started, panic clearly evident in his voice.
"Sir, letters have arrived for you sir, one bares the seal of Buckshire." the voice from the other side of the door replied.
"Thank you Uwe. Slide it under the door."
"Sir, eh, you asked me to let you know of any rumors about the elves did you not?" he asked.
"Yes Uwe, what is it?"
"There's talk Sir, they say Ferien has been attacked!"
He sighed "Alright, thanks."
The sound of rustling paper was followed shortly after by the patter of feet scurrying down the hall.
He moved to the door, blanket wrapped about his shoulders to stave off the morning chill and gathered the letters. Opening the first he smiled, the mayor had answered, the remaining three however caused what little hope he had been building up over the past few days to evaporate. He sat on the edge of his bunk, head cradled in his hands for a while, simply staring at the inside of his own eyelids.
After several minutes, perhaps closer to an hour he began to stir again. He quickly set about writing a letter, and preparing a copy for each of those who had come forward to offer aid.
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Friends.
News comes to us, both good and bad.
The Mayor has accepted our offer, we may begin to arrange the defence of Buckshire.
However, I received a reply from the Dwarves, the Mirghul Rangers, and from Brandibuck.
The Dwarves have promised what fighting force they have left to the elves. They have no one to send us. The Rangers and the Hin are also unable to spare any forces. I'm afraid we're alone on this for the time being.
We must continue however, erect what defences we can and watch the town in shifts. We must also find safe storage for what supplies the town yet holds. While plans must now be changed, it is still important to move forward.
Fennigan
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((Edit: If you've come to me in game, or responded with a letter in this thread you can assume you've gotten a copy of this letter sent to you.)) |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 23 Jan 2007 01:27 PM |
(In tiny exquisite handwriting)
Fennigan,
I must go to Asashi for a short time. When I return I will join you as I see your collected efforts have much more possibility of success than all of the other impotent, divisive flailings I see otherwise. Think of how I can best help your cause and I will do my best.
In addition, if you have need of me to do anything while I am abroad, send back the messenger quickly with your instructions and I will seek to perform them swiftly before I return. I will seek you personally when I return.
May wisdom be with us all
Timik Gorozai the Mistake |
T'mok Gurzi
Resident Gnoll Warlord
patron for the noble yet drink addled
Timik Gorozai the Mistake |
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Re: A call to arms.
Posted: 23 Jan 2007 06:40 PM |
Sir Byron/General Fennigan:
As events begin to unfold more quickly than we can possibly anticipate, I write this letter perhaps as much to clear my own thoughts as to provide any concrete advice or guidance.
There is simply so much that needs to be done in such a short time, and so many places that need help, that if we are to indeed win this war in any sort of conventional sense, then we must act quickly and decisively. We cannot allow the possibilities of what might be to, of the occasional good that might be done here and there, distract us from the possibility of what needs to be done now.
As I have been away, and will continue to be as I will explain later, I have written down my thinking on what we must do. Some of this may already be happening.
1) We must immediately begin reconnaissance of the Atalan stronghold and determine their strength and defenses. This must be a small group, capable of stealth and magic. Balthor has already indicated that he could get beyond the barrier and I believe could bring others too. There are probably other wizards who would join this cause. Someone with skills like yourself, Fennigan, would also be desirable. Cora Delving has said she would join this cause. While I am leery of her affiliations, obviously the cause we fight for is greater than the differences between her and me at this point. This group must be put together quickly and act even moreso. Fennigan, I believe this should be an undertaking you put together, though I would be pleased to help out in any way when I return.
2) We must reach out to communities across the land to find those who would fight with us. Announcements and messages are one thing, but advocates who can speak clearly and forcefully about the cause are what we really need. Appropriate speakers must be sent to the right communities (dwarven, elvish, gnomish, etc.) to recruit fighters and others. We may find most success with some of the small villages and hamlets, as opposed to the larger, most populated areas that have already been attacked.
3) We will also need as many weapons, armor and other supplies as possible, including food and bandages. I suggest we send out word asking all crafters and smiths to deliver as many of these items as possible.
4) If you can, find some who would be willing to investigate the Kobai. There are reports of increased bandit attacks upon merchant caravans, and as you and I have seen personally. We know the Atalan are seeking resources and trying to stop trade. The desert is the bottleneck for all north-south trade in Vives. If that is closed off, our chances decrease tremendously. If there is some sort of small force or group that could even provide escort services for caravans, that would be an effective use of soldiers, adventurers and others until the time for battle is near.
5) I am concerned about keeping a force together for a very long time. If Atalan attacks continue unabated, then many who join initially may fear for their home and leave. Barring further development, I suspect we will need to be move fairly quickly in our assault after our reconnaissance and scouting efforts are over.
6) As I said earlier, we must focus on our end goal: defeating the Atalan. We cannot allow other goals, no matter how well intentioned, to diffuse our forces. For example, to be sure, I am supportive of helping the dwarves retake their homeland, but we cannot give away forces to that effort until later or if it can be shown that such an effort would dramatically impede the Atalan’s efforts.
I am checking on Aristi positions in numerous towns, and at the same time, will be stopping at settlements along the weay to help recruit soldiers and others for the cause. I hope to see you both in a week or so, possibly longer.
Walk in the light,
Cedrych von Maistlin
(((Probably won't be around much for the next week or two because of work...I'll try to post occasionally and get IG when I can)))) |
The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for...
-- Ernest Hemingway |
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Rally
Posted: 05 Feb 2007 11:42 PM |
“Awake, fear, fire, foes! The motherland cries out for you! Bring me your ears, your voice…to arms!”
Cedrych kicked the side of his mount with his boots, and the horse reared up on its hind legs as he brandished his sword in the middle of the village, his black and gold armor reflecting the mid-day sun. The small group of people that had already gathered around him as he had slowly trotted the destrier into town drew back slightly, though he saw several look impressively at the display. He pursed his lips, the edges just barely turned up, presenting a grim smile, the sort passed between people in difficult times.
It was all for effect, of course, but it was what he needed right now – something to break through and get their attention. His later words would carry all the substance.
The collection of buildings barely qualified as a village. It was really nothing more than the point where three or four farms came together. Someone had put up two or three covered booths, and a weekly market was formed. Enough traffic ultimately meant a blacksmith had taken up residence, and then a herbalist/healer. This one was bigger than most, for it had the smallest of inns, nothing more than a stable and a common room.
They dotted the countryside by the hundreds, and Cedrych swore he had been in most of them by now, though he was now only halfway through his travels. This one was Wycombe…or was it Waycombe? Did it truly matter at this point?
His words had the desired effect. Undoubtedly the village had already been nervous and on-edge about the Atalan, and he could feel the electricity going through those who had already gathered. Others further off in the distance were now approaching, trying to see what the spectacle was all about.
He sheathed his sword, dismounted and tied the reins to a wooden post outside the ramshackle inn, then walked slowly into the middle of a dirt clearing where two major road came together. Don’t talk down to them, he thought. You need them. He corrected himself. You ARE them.
“Good people,” he said, extending his arms out, “I am Cedrych von Maistlin, and I ride for the army of Vives.” He heard the murmurings – army? what army? of Vives? does he mean the elves? what’s he talking about? – but didn’t acknowledge them.
“We are at war – all of us – with the Atalan.” A sudden hush came over the crowd at the mention of the name, the only sound a hawk calling out high above in the sky.
“They have attacked everywhere, burning, pillaging, killing destroying – everything. You’ve heard the stories, and if you didn’t believe this, I tell you now. It is all true. Brandibuck destroyed. Gladden gone. Much of Port Royale in flames. I have seen it with my own eyes.” He paused. “And it is a terrible sight to behold.”
He glanced around at the gathering. Farmers mostly, their clothes and faces littered with the dirt and toil of their efforts. Simple people with uncluttered lives, perhaps, but not stupid. Their expressions spoke of fear and sadness, but also of compassion and kindredness, even a few eyes gleaming with sparks of revenge, and the one – there was one in every village – that burned with something else…opportunism, perhaps, if not something darker. Was it all that much different than Port Royale?
“We have a choice. The world has a choice.” He walked slowly around the edges of the little ring of people, looking as many as he could right in the eye, so close that occasionally one would take a step back. “We can sit here, divided into our communities, attending to our daily work, and wait for the Atalan to come.”
“You’re a knight, ain’tcha?” came a sharp voice from the group, the speaker a short, spindly man with long fingers and a longer beard. “I no recognize the colors, but ya supposed to protect us, aren’t ya?” The man paused for just a second. “Ain’t someone supposed to protect us? dang Alliance or somebody, right?”
It was more of a plea than a question, though the bitterness was unmistakable. Cedrych stopped and turned to the man, speaking softly. “Aye. In a perfect world, I would have every town and village guarded by a squadron of knights and warriors, truly. But Midor has declared war on Ferein, and the small groups that exists are already stretched as thin as possible. I have—”
“So wha’ you come here for then?” squawked an elderly lady in the back. “To tell us we gonna die?”
“No!” he replied quickly, the force of his words catching them off guard. Every eye was fixed on him and him alone. He tried to force his features to look like Byron’s: chiseled, stoic, resolved, set in stone. This was the moment where it all counted.
“We have a choice. You can die here alone, or we – the world – work together to survive. We cannot hope to defend every place, but a force of men and women, able to move quickly and strike when necessary, may be victorious. It is our chance. It may be our only chance.”
He paused half a breath to let his words sink in, then he continued. “An army is forming, in Buckshire. An army of people from around the world, working together to defeat the Atalan. I call upon all of you, this community, to give aid and support to that army.”
“What do you want us to do, move there?” another person called out, and someone guffawed. “We’re just a bunch of farmers, that’s all. We ain’t got nothing to give.”
“No, good sir, we all have something to give. It is precisely why I come to you.” He stood as tall and straight as he could now, raising his hands above his head, his voice deep and strong. “I call upon you to send whatever supplies – foodstuffs, herbs, poulstices, even weapons and armor – to Buckshire. An army cannot function without basic supplies, and the Atalan raids have destroyed many resources.
“But here,” moving his arms out wider, motioning to the fields beyond them, “these lands are untouched. You have things to offer…things to offer to the world. And they are needed, I assure you."
He took a deep breath, and turning around, briefly sought out the gaze of every young man and woman of appropriate age he could see. “I also call upon every man and woman who can bear arms to head to Buckshire to join the army, to fight for the freedom of this land that we call home.”
His heart ached, for this was the part he truly hated. He could already see in the eyes of a few that there would be some trying conversations this night. Husband and wife. Son (and daughter) with their parents. Most wouldn’t come, and others would set out on the road only to turn back a day or two later. But a few – precious few, really – would make it, and perhaps one might make the difference. No, they <all would make a difference.
"Why should we?" asked the spindly man. "We doin' all right. Ain't been attacked yet...we could--"
A couple of people tried to shout him down, but Cedrych motioned for quiet, and they all did, to his surprise. Some towns were not so congenial.
"True," he said, nodding his head, his hands clasped behind his back. "You could just....sit here. Lead your life. And hope for the best." He stopped here, raising a finger pointedly. "Every town across this land has the right to refuse this call. And then we will all crumble, one by one, when they come. And I promise you, they will come. We are in a race, if you will. The longer the war continues, the more lands that will be destroyed. The faster we end this, the better chance that you, this town -- or any other -- survives. It's that simple."
The mood of the group was somber now. One of two voices snickered or complained, but most were silent, their faces set in grim resolve. Simply and uncluttered, perhaps, but not stupid. They understood.
He spoke quietly now. “I have no words of wisdom, no inspirational stories to tell you. We will either fail or succeed, and you know what the ramifications are of each. I only know that failure is easy; we just sit here and wait. Success will require action, to do what we must. You all know this. Look in your hearts, and the answer is there.”
He walked to his horse, the throng parting for him. He mounted the steed and gave the group one final gaze, softer now, more empathetic, but still firm. “A messenger and a supply wagon from the Illumine Alliance will come through here to get your supplies. I don’t know when given how stretched we are, but have faith, it will.”
He gave the horse a slight kick, and they trotted off down one of the dirt roads. He looked back and saw them all still staring at him. “Have faith!” he called out. “Hope is not lost. It is never lost.”
He rode for several hours, until the next small hamlet came into sight. |
The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for...
-- Ernest Hemingway |
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