3. Told from the Rant Stand

Told from the Rant Stand


  • A hooded figure slips through the crowd and says softly here and there, moving on before anyone can pin him with a gaze

    Where is your child?
    Where are your children?
    Where is your niece?
    Where is your nephew?

    EDIT BY DM SKIPPY
    The hooded figure seems to cause an inordinate amount of disruption, raising the levels of fear and anxiety to fever pitch

    Weapons are now being openly carried on the streets, with guards becoming more and more worried


  • Next is the novelist Isolde Garibaldi, her glass slippers click-clacking against the wooden platform as she takes the stand. A shimmering outfit of emerald green and gold hugs the bardess' figure, the scale-patterened cloth seeming almost to writhe when she moves, the effect sinuously snakelike and decidedly eye-catching. Isolde's voice carries easily across the crowd, melodic, smooth and laden with emotion:

    "You reap what you sow", she begins, letting her dark eyes sweep over those gathered, singling one or two out for a solemn, scrutinizing look.

    "If there's one thing life has taught me, it's this. If there's one prevailing lesson in all that I have seen and experienced, it's this.

    You reap what you sow.

    The N'Jast war claimed a man's beloved, destroyed their home and the life they'd built there. Shattered, the man fled to Peltarch, tried to find a way to go on. He made a friend and found small joys to patch the gaping wounds of loss. Until another war came and his friend was killed. Just another casualty of war, a forgettable footnote in history. What's one person's life in the greater scheme of things, in the game of kings and heroes? Nobody cared. So he decided to ~make~ them care.

    That man became Chirade, a Sharran who would try to drag the whole world into darkness, hellbent on taking all from it that he himself had lost. For one person can be the world to someone. One single casualty of war can be ~your~ wife, your daughter, your best friend. Before you drink from the war mongerer's cup, remember that.

    It's easy to hate.

    It even feels good, to rail and cry foul, to take up arms and teach the BASTARDS who hurt you a LESSON! That anger's a poison, the very poison Talbot Anderson used to march our army to the Giantspires. Fuelled by anger, by the righteous rage against what was ~thought~ to be an orcish attack against our General, Anderson easily seized control of the army and marched towards the Giantspires to retaliate. Except HE had engineered the attack himself - and his gamble for power cost the orcs dearly.

    I followed in the wake of the army, that day. An hour or two behind, when corpses lay fresh where they'd fallen. Warriors, women, even children butchered, heads on spikes. I followed a trail of blood through the orcs caverns, out into the snowy fields below. You know what followed - you know the consequences for our city, but the orcs, the scapegoats necessary for Anderson's ploy to work, they payed too!

    I spoke to their envoy, good people. I witnessed his pain and know that it is just. But he, like so many others suffering, direct their rage indiscriminately. Anderson came from our city - the raiding adventurers come from our city, so our city must pay! But what of Alice the cabbage seller, Nelson the chimney sweep, Tria of Vanity Plates? Are they too to blame, for being citizens of Peltarch? For being human? Must they risk death for anothers deeds?

    I wish that we could be better. But left and right in this city, I hear the same blind rage. Orcs killed my parents, says one adventurer, so ALL orcs must die. The fair Tel'quessir says the only tribute orcs deserve is steel and arrow, flame and death - not for what they did, but just for being orcs. He says there can be no peaceful coexisting with such 'rabid dogs'.

    I say there can be no peaceful coexisting if you don't dare to try.

    You reap what you sow. Anger begets anger, violence begets violence and the wheel keeps spinning. War. Pain, loss, anger, retribution. War again. Now, the wheel has paused for a moment's reflection. An opportunity for ~change~.

    Honour, keeping our agreements as Inquisitor Northman says, may yet beget honour. At the very least, showing the orcs that we are willing to give something back defuses their ire. Let's show them the likes of Talbot Anderson does NOT define what it is to be Peltarchian!

    We're more than that. We're 'better' than that.

    Paying their tribute is not giving in to threats of war. It's an ackknowledgement that what was taken from them was not right and not in agreement with treaties made. But most of all, it's an opportunity to spin the wheel in a different direction.

    You reap what you sow, good people of Peltarch.

    So what future do you want to harvest?"

    ((Taking 10, Charisma 20, Persuade 40))

    EDIT BY DM SKIPPY
    The people listen, but as she talks of orcs being honourable, of the potential of a treaty, the crowd splits; it seems there is no love of the orc. Some seem to agree with her sentiment and disperse peacefully, hoping for a quiet resolution, others are incensed and go off to get drunk and rally with those who would seek violence.


  • A halfling clad in defender armor steps up after Cecil saying,

    ‘ello! ‘m Bellamin, most of yeh just know m’ ‘s Bell. Yeh local guard ‘n ‘is 'ere district. Just want’d a quick word while yeh all ‘ere.

    While w' all know ‘r relations with t’ orcs ‘aven’t been the best o’ sorts. Reckon if 'ere’s a solution without need’n blood t’be shed, we ought t’ ’t least try 'at first, yeh?

    Think of yeh loved 'uns waitin' ‘t home, look t’ yeh friends right ‘ere. 'nother war 's not what we need right now.

    Make n' mistake, I'll be t' first amongst many t'lay down m' life f' yeh good folk, -IF- 'n when t' fightin' starts. 't's the job afterall.

    But 'afore 'at, 's what Cecil's been sayin', peace for the Jewel."

    He smiles confidently, before stepping off and wandering back into the crowd

    //Taking 10, Charisma 12, Persuasion 26

    EDIT BY DM SKIPPY
    The hin amongst the crowd nod along to Bell’s words, as do the humans who can understand him. Some are moved to disperse peacefully, others seem to stand and think thoughtfully.


  • Atel works the crowd while Cecil speaks, having heard of concerns of a potential War with the orcs, and having seen a full scale war in her day, works to prevent this if possible...

    What else I am, however, is patient. When a situation such as a cease-fire is brokered by the City, it's intended to be KEPT, but not because that makes us all a bunch of orc lovers.

    “It’s true you know.” she tells one man in the crowd quietly. “Remember all the damage Talbot caused? And that wasn’t even a full scale war…”

    …

    In less than half the time allotted, I've gathered over half of what I need, what WE need, to keep this peace without bloodshed. With the rest, I may be able to avoid a war, through mere WORDS, representing Peltarch.

    “We should try to find the ones responsible, and get back what the Orcs need. Without violence.” she tells another man elsewhere in the crowd, plus size of being Halfling is the ability to move in a crowd with relative ease.

    …

    I did this, because I remember the last time our walls were breached, and the faces of those that aren't here today, in the crowd with you, right now, because of it. It was ogres that time, and I will NOT see it be orcs this time, if I can prevent it.

    “Exactly, we should do whatever we can to prevent war.” Atel told a woman, “Remember how bad N’Jast went for Jiyyd? For the surrounding area? Even Peltarch didn’t escape that violence, we don’t want that kind of thing to have its eye centered on our city.”

    ((OOC checks (take 10): Charisma check: 15 Persuade: 18))

    EDIT BY DM SKIPPY
    With Atel’s assistance, Cecil’s speech goes down a bit better, another 10% of the crowd being moved to agree with the Inquisitor’s stance

    1 Reply

  • Scott decides to take a moment to address the gathered crowd

    If you do not know me, I am Scott. Newly accepted into the defenders.
    The borderlands are my jurisdiction now and I will be patrolling them. I do not want to see anyone instigating any hostilities with the orcs, or else you will answer to me. . and I speak with my blade. Rest assured this goes for the orcs as well, I will not allow them entry to Peltarch Land without an official reason.

    ((Charisma Check 13, Taunt: +36))

    EDIT BY DM SKIPPY
    The crowd listen, and become extremely agitated by his taunting, several of them running out towards the orc lands when he finishes as if responding to his taunt and acting foolishly, opening themselves to harm


  • The next day, a very tall human dressed in fullplate with an imperious gaze and a look of definite tiredness and frustration takes the stage, with as many of the Defenders, Guards, and other Peltarch City Employees as were available to attend. Other locals come in, interested to hear what the half-giant has to say.

    Soldiers. You all know who I am.

    Most of the citizenry does too ... if for no other reason that I occasionally get in the way of the sun that they're using to see by.

    I'm not fancy, or particularly well spoken, I'm just a human, and mostly just a soldier at that, despite the title.

    What else I am, however, is patient. When a situation such as a cease-fire is brokered by the City, it's intended to be KEPT, but not because that makes us all a bunch of orc lovers.

    Am I wrong in assuming that the men who fight, bleed, and die for the city, prefer to LIVE to see the next day, and go home to their families after their shifts, and take some pride in their work of keeping their neighbors safe?

    Right now, I've been collecting the things the orcs claim were taken from them, from volunteers and whoever actually DID the taking alike, to show that Peltarch KEEPS its word, even when random people upset the delicate balance of agreements and peace!

    In less than half the time allotted, I've gathered over half of what I need, what WE need, to keep this peace without bloodshed. With the rest, I may be able to avoid a war, through mere WORDS, representing Peltarch.

    I did this, because I remember the last time our walls were breached, and the faces of those that aren't here today, in the crowd with you, right now, because of it. It was ogres that time, and I will NOT see it be orcs this time, if I can prevent it.

    Help me prove the honor of the Jewel, that we KEEP to our agreements, and let's not throw away the lives of those people standing next to you ... or your own, where another path is visible.

    Peace for the Jewel!

    He roars to the crowd, hefting his OWN sword, one nearly as long as he is tall, in the air.

    ((OOC: Charisma check of 12, Persuade of 12))

    Two of the soldiers clap excitedly and wolf whistle, shouting out various Peltarch-centric statements to encourage the Inquisitor. Most clap politely, but then wander off. The non-soldier crowd seems not upset, but not overly moved. There are some, however, who listen attentively, and stick around to encourage Cecil Northman that he is doing the right thing.


  • A tall, handsome elf equipped with an ornate bow, an impossibly long blade that seemed a cross between a rapier and a greatsword, and dressed in gold filigreed leathers takes the stage. As he does, a crowd gathers, seemingly drawn by his presence

    Good people of Peltarch!

    I have heard, that orcs are your foe here in Peltarch, and yet... that they come to make threats, to demand tribute, to force those brave souls who live here and work here to stay out of orc lands... orc lands, as if there was ever such a thing!

    They come, and they are negotiated with, they are respected, they are... tolerated!

    Friends, there is no tolerating an orc, any more than one might tolerate a rabid dog!

    There is no peaceful co-existence with orcs, any more than one might live peacefully next door to a Cyricist

    And now... they have a King. A KING of ORCS

    Do they, the ignoble orcs, seek to ape their betters, the noble and good people of Peltarch?

    I am Tel'quessir, and I will not stand for it, nor will my kin! There is NO KING on the ICELACE but OUR KING.

    Let every able bodied adventurer not pay tribute to the orc, lest we empower and embolden them. Instead, let us TAKE our TRIBUTE to them, a tribute of steel and arrow and flame and death. The tribute they deserve.

    When their ambassador comes again in a ten day's time... I will meet them there, and I will throw my defiance into their teeth, and shatter them, and pursue them back to the snow, that their blood might stain the field red for an eternity

    Who is with me?

    The crowd roars their defiance, their anger, their fear... it seems that the orcs are not liked in Peltarch, and this elf has captured the mood of the moment well.

    ((OOC: Charisma check result of 15, Persuade of 35))

  • Legion

    Not really told from the "Rant Stand" so much. Marty gives a short speech to the folks living Ashald Garden. She stands at the top of the stairs so that her voice can carry over the crowd

    "Good folks! May I gain your attention please?

    On behalf of the People of Peltarch …"

    Points a young boy out of the crowd, the one she caught trying to be a hero on the wall. She motions him up to join her on the steps.

    "It is my duty and pleasure to award this Medal for Heroism …"

    Removes a medal from around her neck as the kid climbs the stairs.

    "Umm … "

    *Whispers to the young boy.

    "What's y'name kid?"

    "M'name'sMick"

    "I award this medal to Mornay Smick, for bravery in the face of certain death, and heroism above the call of duty!"

    Martouscah quite regally places the medal over the boy's head and down to hang around his neck. She then takes him by the hand and holds his hand up high

    HOW ABOUT THREE CHEERS FOR SMICK!

    Hiphip HORAH!
    Hiphip HORAH!
    Hiphip HORAH!

    quietly to Mick

    Thanks kid.

    To everyone

    Folks, the Medal I lay upon Smick today I symbolically lay upon all of you! To be honest …
    ..
    ... To be totally honest …. I had lost hope. We faced foes that seemed uncountable ... unstoppable. I had resigned myself to die a good death fighting on the line.

    But you FOLKS! In all truth I took one look at you all … and even as I look at you all now ... You're what it's all about. We all are. Sons and Daughters of Peltarch. Sons and Daughters of Tidus, of "The Jewel of the Icelace".

    You lot gave me hope.

    So … I salute you.

    Marty brings her hand up in salute, and then brings it down sharply

    And to all of you my warmest thanks. May your gods love and keep you all.


  • While the air is still hazy with smoke and ashes from the fallen star which struck just south of the city proper, Cerulean Commander Lycka Zomasdottir, husband Aelthas her pink, towering shadow, takes the stand. Her well-trained voice carries far and wide, though not without a raspy strain from the trials of the scorching days the city has suffered.

    "People of Peltarch!

    While our trials are not yet at an end, neither are our lives, for on this day all the city's finest spellcasters banded together; Ceruleans and Archangels, Thayan and Rashemi, adventurers and scholars, wizards, priests and bards.

    On the roof of City Hall itself, our defenders stood, facing the scorching heat, the falling flames. They did not flinch, they did not flee - they raised their hands and voices and wove such magic as to PUSH the dread and fiery star off its course and onto the path of the enemies past our gates!

    We're not out of harm's way yet - I know it and you all know it. But I would have us celebrate the victories won, the efforts made, both great and small, by all the city's bravest. From putting fires out to bandaging a broken arm, from fighting orcs with bow and sword to baking bread to fill hungry bellies, or simply offering kindness when war threatens to get the best of us - all, yes ALL of us can make a difference! But on this day, I raise a special cheer to Mystra and to all the weavers of magic that blew fiery doom away from our home.

    While the city stands, there is hope, while we live and breathe, I know we will all fight to keep it so! Praise Mystra! Long live the Jewel!"


  • While not one to be counted among the firebrand preachers, the plummet in the public's morale is palpable as Allestor makes his rounds through the city. While already taking regular patrols and aiding within the Temple of the Triad as well as along the battlements where he can, the Ilmatari finds some time to clamber up onto the rant stand. A short time later, a gregorian-esqe celestial chanting begins to resonate from the area, drawing the curious to him. He continues his chants - who those that could understand would hear as a praise to Ilmater and His mercy - with both patience and a deep reverence, allowing ample time for both word of the knights position to spread and for the interested to gather. As his chanting slows to finally cease, he looks upon the crowd with a small but genuine smile, bowing his head to them in greeting before he speaks

    Hail, good people of Peltarch! Most of you may know me already but for those that do not, I am Allestor Hollins, Painbearer of Ilmater and knight of the Divine Shield. I stand before you today to share the blessings of Ilmater, and to carry forth His word.

    In these times, many of us have suffered loss at the hands of our oppressors. Mourn for those lives that have been taken, as is your right, but do not despair for them. Know that while they have left our sides, they are ever in our hearts. Grieve and expend yourself of the sadness their departure may bring you, but take comfort and lift your hearts anew. Their journey has not ended here, but a new and wondrous one begun.

    Pausing for a moment, he makes a sweeping gesture at the walls beside and behind him

    The enemies at our walls would have us seized with grief and fear, but verily I say that is their mistake! For it is through fear that we discover the courage to face it, and through grief do we discover the inner strength to transcend it.

    In my time among you I have seen the will of Peltarch and it's people, and it is stronger than any wall of stone, stronger than any weapon that may be brought against it. I know too, that if you but look inside yourselves, the courage you shall find within will give them pause and shall shake their resolve!

    Outstretching his arms to the crowd in their recognition, he smiles warmly and leaves his arms raised for a few long moments before bringing them down again, clasping his hands around the Ilmatari holy symbol before him

    These times are stressful and demanding upon us all.. emotions may rise or fall, tempers may flare and harsh words may be spoken, but seek not to quarrel among your fellows. Though some may feel the need to lash out, being confined or wearied from unpredictable attacks, do not take it as an offense and retaliate in kind. Instead extend kindness and support to them, for they are your neighbors and your allies in distress, and while you may not be equipped to take their watch or station, you can offer a hand to steady them, a shoulder to cry upon, or simply your ears to listen while they vent their frustration. Perhaps you need no such aid yourself and balk at the notion, but perhaps someday you will, and the kindness you share today and henceforth will be reflected back upon you.

    Take solace in knowing that within the darkness, the light will shine it's brightest, and be you prince or pauper, champion or simple farmer, Ilmater's blessings are with you if you but accept them. Within His divine grace shall you find the limitless endurance to overcome any obstacle and triumph over any hardship. By His divine burden does He share the pain of all you goodly people, and by His divine mercy may He ease your suffering and take it upon Himself that you may be spared. Open your hearts and lift your voices to Him, for He stands beside you all now.

    As though in acknowledgement to his words, through no intonation of spell or gesture, Allestor holds up his holy symbol to the crowd as it begins to glow, growing brighter until it radiates brilliantly before them. With reverence in his voice as he speaks again, he holds out his other hand to those present to cue the willing into a short call-and-answer praise

    Praise be unto Ilmater, The Merciful // When we are weak, He shall be our strength // When we stagger, He shall lift us up // When we fall, He shall carry us onward.

    Bringing his holy symbol before him again he presses it between his palms, it's persistent radiance shining through as he bows his head reverently for a moment of silence. Looking up and to the gathered once more, he intones a brief blessing spell upon them and smiles softly

    Though I must return to my other duties presently, I thank you all for listening. If you wish to speak with me further, I can commonly be found at the Temple of the Triad after my rounds and you are all more than welcome to join with me there in my dawn prayers.

    Go with His grace, and may the Light of the Triad shine brightly upon you all.


  • -put it where people can reply-

  • Legion

    tired of the snickers and gibes concerning a purchase she made at a recent auction, Marty takes the rant stand to set people straight, and to give folks an education in ancient druidic worship

    Attention everyone please.

    Attention …

    Yes some of you saw what I purchased at the auction a while back, and even now some of you are still gibing me about it. Someone has even said that I am "disgusting" for making the purchase.

    I want you all to know, with no shadow of uncertainty, that from the most ancient of times the phallus has served as one of the most powerful totems, representing fertility and power.

    All of you who know me know of my toil, and how I have tirelessly sought to make the fields around Peltarch yield a crop. So why is it a surprise to anyone that I would not take the opportunity to acquire a such a powerful symbol sacred in my faith when it arises!

    she draws a rod from under her robe, holds it high and activates it. A bright red pair of wobbling, glowing phallases emerge from either end and begin to emit a lightsaber like hum. Once extended the rod is almost as long as she is tall.

    With this, in the name of the fair gods of nature, our fields shall be blessed! By the power of -

    No seriously.

    Ugh..

    Shut up!

    Listen, druids are not alone in revering the phallus symbol. In many other religions and arcane traditions it is also …

    Shush I'm serious!

    Ever wonder why a wand is the shape and size it is? Ever wonder why many clerics carry a mace? It's not like … you know ... I bought this powerful symbol for ... myself.

    Shut up! Ugh.

    Marty deactivates the rod and steps down

    So immature.

    (Ancient phallus worship)

    EDIT: I went in game to make a persuade roll. I kid you not:

    If you don't count mundane items like a tidus symbol neck chain and nice boots, her unbuffed persuade skill is 16 not 21.

  • Legion

    LONG LIVE THE KING!

  • H

    Bael gives her an understanding smile as he hands her the document to read muttering to her that he will speak to her more privately but was just asked to get her to sign the resignation letter.


  • Bael stops Alvaneil at the city gates

    <elven>Oh Bael… wow an actual Defender in person... is something new have not seen another Defender in... what a month? just seemed they needed me to die for them during the gnoll war and then discard of me... so they can keep their pay... oh and you DID receive a key to the Defender quarters, I had forgotten about that... but it seems the rest of the Defenders did as well. So they can keep their pay they got enough blood out of me anyway....

    Also can I read the document? As the way Peltarch is going this might be something else besides a release form... and be careful Beal, it seems they are trying to paint elves as foes to the soon to be King George... they have gone to great pains to paint a few elves that have been loyal defenders of Peltarch through thick and thin as bad for the town and future...</elven>

  • H

    Bael follows quietly after Alvaniel then whispers to her in elven

    <elven>Sister, with you quitting the Defenders you need to sign this to get your pay, its just resignation papers so you can be dismissed from the rosters and go on with the Legion. Please just sign this so I can bring it in for you.</elven>


  • "And remember, only those who have let priests of Siamorphe cast divine magic over them are permitted to vote! Citizens of Peltarch who were either uncomfortable about being rounded up, uncomfortable with monarchists casting unknown spells over them, or simply working too hard to get the time off to enroll …. just go about your business!"

    As an Elf, I found issue with this casting of divine magic on my body by these priests so I cannot vote? If they knew this George was around why did they need to cast on all people of Peltarch... and why would elven blood have Peltarch nobility in it? Correct so why would any elf, dwarf, half-elf, hin need to be tested... I felt violated when told of this and seems just another way to keep the popular vote going in the direction of the king and monarchy.... Why not just make us wear stars on our clothing to let everyone else know that we are different and definitely NOT part of the Peltarch society... take our rights... take our shops... what next... rounding us up and sending us to the slums?

    With that, she rips her Defenders patch off her shoulder and lets it fall to the ground...

    If declining to have spells cast on us is a means to section away voters... this is a town and movement I cannot be a part of.


  • @44d7fbac1f=MCPlay:

    Jack glances about the stand, listening to the speakers in turn. Once they're done, he moves on, muttering something about sheep delivering their fate to the System, and how that will doom them all.

    Scarlet laughs softly

    Oh if I'm elected senator, there will be no corruption at all… of that you can be sure.

    Again, although she smiles, she sounds oddly and deadly serious.

  • ?

    Beorn Battlemail looks sick to his stomach as he quickly shuffles past the bloated egos on the rant stand, staying in the city only as long as it takes to complete his business. Just before he heads to the docks, he mutters to some folks watching the speeches.

    "Aye, didn't ye hear this same shite when she brought in Maria to lead ye? Har! Wut o' farce!"


  • Jack grins at her, measuring up ecactly how serious she is.

    Heh. Tell you what. You find a way to clean up all the corruption, and then I vote for you.