Told from the Rant Stand
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Senator Ronan Redralen takes the rant stand, looking a little forlorn. He speaks
Citizens of Peltarch, may I have your attention.
I have issued a banishment to a one known as Sedea Sterr, for murdering slaves in cold blood just outside of Oscura. She is clearly lacking in judgement and I fear she may be a danger to you all. She showed no remorse, laughed at the deaths of the slaves, thinking it all a game.
I do not think such should go unpunished and I believe such a horrid act deserves justice of some kind, even if outside the laws of any city..
A soft sigh..
That is all my friends. Glory to the Jewel…
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The elderly Senator looks momentarily mystified at the interruption, evidently unaccustomed to heckling, but then he offers a clarifying reply.
"The Senate based its decision solely upon the eye-witnessings of our Far Scouts. We took no counsel from necromancers or other unwholesome characters when we made our decisions."
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Elidur isn't slow to voice his opinions, as usual. Heckling from the crowd.
"This is outrageous! How many times has Peltarch been saved by magic? You can't take the word of a bunch of slavers and necromancers, and Banites over one of our own!"
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Flanked by his nephew the Herald and Captain Velhar of the Peltarch Guard, Senator Ryan Fisher takes the stand to make a short announcement.
"It is the view of the Senate of Peltarch, that the elven sorceress known as Arlinn has demonstrated a continued inclination to the violent and unpredictable use of her Art and must therefore be considered a rogue mage. For this reason, henceforth let it be known she shall be banished from the City of Peltarch lest by her presence harm should befall our citizens.
Let this serve as a stern reminder to all practicioners of the magical arts who would enter our gates; the scourge of magical malpractice will never be permitted within these walls. To the banished; if my words reach you, you have two days to make your exit from our City and may the Gods have mercy on you."
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Interested eyes looks on from the corner of the wall. The familiar, young, half-elven, man listens very carefully and grins but only a little, looking back at the city hall and then to Ronan with a contemplative look
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Ah'ria stands back in the shadows, listening to Ronan's little speech. She smiles to herself until he makes that joke at which time she facepalms, shakes her head and mutters under her breath
<e>I can't believe he said that…</e>
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Senator Ronan Redralen takes the stand in the market, having a pleasent smile upon his handsome features. When a few people give him their attention, he makes a sort of announcement.
Citizens of Peltarch, good day..
I come to you today to ask a question or two: Have you, your husband, your wife, your children, or anyone else you know have a natural tendacy toward magic? If so are they receiving advice or training in such?
I remember during my younger years, I struggled with my gifts, struggled to understand them. I feel the citizens of Peltarch, rich or poor, should be given an opportunity that I did not have when I was younger. A chance to learn their gifts and understand them at an early stage. Which is why I am willing to offer my advice or perhaps even training with your innate gift. While I admit I am not even close to being the most knowledegable mage in the land, I feel I can perhaps offer some advice should you be having trouble. If I've no answer to your particular question, then I can certainly refer you to someone who likely does.
If interested, do find me in the commons as that is one of the more common places in the city I tend to be. Commons, common… get it?
Ahem..
Anywho, that is all. Long live the Jewel!
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Calen is seen visiting the jail to see Benji.
//Via PM
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The Guards, led by a heavy-set and none-too-pleased looking Sergeant, carry Benji off to the jail and toss him in a holding cell for a few days.
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Marty rushes to the scene after the sound, to spot Benji being dragged off
<hin>… Doh!</hin>
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Telli attention is arroused by the boom on one of her trips through Peltarch. She mutters to herself as the guards start to approach him.
"I thoughts Theaon lockedededs da farkings wine cellar ta da hin!"…
Telli waddles off towards the jail cells to see how long it will take for the love struck halfling to be released.
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//This post, which includes some NPC reactions, is endorsed by DM Moob.
During a bustling afternoon in the Peltarch Market Benji climbs the stairs to the Rant Stand.
Attention, People of Peltarch.
The sound of the crowd drowns out his voice.
People of Peltarch!
_As again, no one pays heed, Benji tosses a small vial of black powder from his pocket onto the empty stage next to him. He takes a deep breath, draws a Gnomish Blunderbust, and shoots the vial.
BOOM!
The crowd is rattled. Some duck. Others scream. The guards eye Benji and approach swiftly._
PEOPLE OF PELTARCH! Do not believe any slander that you hear on the name Lady Marie Scuttlestone! I was a love-sick selfish COWARD and she is a woman of her WORD!
She was jus- Hey! WAIT! I'm not FIN-
The guards reach Benji. There is a short scuffle with some gnomish cursing before Benji is subdued.
//DM team please collect fines and jail time at your earliest convenience.
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"Booo! Boooo!" Elidur obviously doesn't like what he's hearing. "Other Senators make time to do what needs to be done - it's their crap policy of not doing anything FOR the city that's the problem. Get back in the damned seat Calen, don't you make me come up there!!" Apparently, the foot is put down. "If you don't get in there and change things for the better RIGHT NOW!!!" … and leaves the outcome to the mind of the guilty party, although the scornful look might have said it all.
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Calen Ashwynd, steps up to the podium and calls out to the crowd, holding his hands high. He then lowers them and stands before the crowd quiet as his eyes scan about looking to each face, nodding to each, taking slow deep breaths and then he speaks in a calm, deliberate tone
Peltarchians, Fair People of the Jewel, Friends…
We have worked together, we have stood together, we build together, to make a better Peltarch than that which was afore the war. There have been many, many changes, and the Jewel stands strong. I am honored to stand here afore and with you, each and every one of you. From the time I first began campaigning to enter the Senate I told you that I am one of you.
Regretablly, I find that in me I see a change in that. Whence I started on this journey I gave my oath to you and my Lord Helm to protect you, to work with you through it all. I have found that the opposite seems to have happened. I sit and listen, in your Senate, to all of the conversations, debates. Only to be disheartened at the changes I have seen it cause in me and others there, over time. I still believe in the Senate and the Senators that all of you voted for. Know that I hold great respect for the Senate and tis out of that respect and quiet contemplation that I know that my duty to my Lord and the you, the people is better served aside you as one of you.
This was not an easy decision, my friends. I need be honest with you. Aft much thought, I have pondered two questions. First, how can one protect those that he is sworn to protect, when surrounded by four walls of stone? Hiding, keeping him safe, whence the eddicts I follow state the opposite. Second, how can one put his family, friends, loved ones, and the people at risk by being absent from them? My answer has come as a hard lesson. He cannot. I cannot.
I have presented the Senate with my letter of resignation. I have informed them that I am speaking with you now. I shant hide any longer ahind the safety of the walls of the City Hall. I shall be amidst you, working with you, aside you as it should always have been. May Helms watchful eye continue to watch o’er us all. Long Live the Jewel!
He looks through the crowed area meeting eyes with as many people as possible with strength and conviction in his eyes, he takes a deep breath then bows to all watching and quietly, purposefully steps down
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Present for the rabble-rousing but however unimpressed by it, Celebring shakes his head slightly as if to dismiss the crowd, or whatever he was thinking, then departs.
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@71a526d111=aeolderr:
GLORY TO THE JEWEL, AND DEATH TO HER ENEMIES!
Marty applauds and calls out:
AYE TERREN! GLORY TO THE JEWEL!
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Meye seems to ignore Adrian's speech totally. Instead she goes around amongst the people offering those who wish to talk to her a fair chance to do so. If someone ask questions about her origins or anything else Adrian questioned she answer softly to the person face by face and the answer is simple. She was born in the borderlands of the great glacier and Adrian was right in the fact that he certainly is not any historian.
(( assuming it was Adrian who was speaking as speaker was not mentioned ))
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_"You speak of those native to this land, but are you yourself? Though I am not a historian, I always understood that the 'native' Peltarchans are related to the horsemen from the plains, and that those living around the glacier are another tribe altogether.
And I understood that those native horsemen have always prayed to Waukeen, Lathander and Tempus, not Auril.
Besides, Peltarch is host to people from all manner of backgrounds these days. It is quite difficult to find anyone in Peltarch, even among those born here, whose bloodline has not been influenced by 'outlanders'."_
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Standing amongst the ranks of people, Meye applauds loudly for words of Terren. Then she can be heard telling out loud
"Thee hear the man. I thought he is only ignorant and arrogant fool when he week back told me that we whom are sons and daughters of the glacier are uncivilized backwards people and for example our neighbours of Thay are far superior and more civilized to us. But now he is speaking words of wisdom!
Let us indeed put our hands together! Together we can saveth the great glacier and get rid of all those threats that it's desecration has brought over us! Together!"
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A look of disgust on his face as Meye finishes, Terren takes to the stand after her, holding a hand to the air for attention, his eyes deep pools of wisdom as he gazes out over the crowd, seeming to peer into the collective souls of each man, woman, and child in attendence.
My friends, I stand before you a humble man. I make no grand claims, I claim no precursor of tragedy to come, I claim to be no savior to lift you from damnation, and I claim to be no greater than any man or woman who rests their heels upon the Jewel of the North. No, I am but a man, a man with two hands to do his part, a man with two eyes to see the world around him, and a man with one voice…He pauses for a moment, his eyes sweeping the crowd. A man with one voice that will ever shine out of the dark, that WILL ring out against the lies and false truths that seem to rain from the sky like the snows of years past. My friends, let me remind you of YOUR heritage.
If the Fisher King could look upon the people who stand within his city this day, he would weep, but not for shame my friends! Oh no, for shame could not enter so great a man's soul when he gazes upon the brave people of this land. We live in harsh times, it is true. This land has ever faced harsh times, and when has the Jewel buckled and bowed, scraping their knees upon the floor for fear? Never say I!
It was not long that plague ran rampant through this city, that mothers feared for there children, husbands weeped because this foe was implaccable, this was not a mortal foe, neither steel nor strong words could stand against such a foe was whispered on many a tongue, but my friends, that is precisely what was done. WE stood against the darkness, WE dared to say to despair, WE kept our faith in the goodness of our neighbors, of our kin, of our glorious Jewel. Our Archangels swooped down from on high to earn their namesakes, on every corner there was a man or woman dressed in green, and THEY were the implaccable foe, DARING any foe to assault their beloved Jewel, for there was no quarter given when it came to defending home and liberty.
I beg of you, dear friends of truth and liberty, use your eyes, use your ears, and let not your tongues be still. The mongerers of fear hold only that weapon against us friends, fear. They know well that they are powerless against a foe steadfast in their resolve to resist them. They KNOW they could never stand against the protectors of this fair city. They KNOW that their only hope is to cudgel the children until their mother fears, to bring misery and death as their only companion, and they claim to save US?
I look around this day and see many a face who may be tempted by this woman's words, for truly she has a honeyed tongue. She claims to have your best interests at heart, she CLAIMS to want only the best for you, for you to live long and happy lives. These are lies my friends, these are the lies of a fearmongerer, in her eyes your long lives comes only upon your knees, with chains of ice upon every hand and every ankle. Nay, dare not fall for her ruse. Take faith in those men and women that have ever stood strong in defense of the Jewel, take faith in those whose faith reside in powers who want nothing more than for the Jewel and its people to flourish, take faith in those that dedicate themselves to the cause that the evil of the Frostmaiden's touch shall never come down heavily on any man, woman, or child.
His eyes sweep the crowd again, blazing with passion by this point, his words taking a more somber tone, his voice softening such that those in the back must strain to listen to him.
I remember when Mariston Thel bowed not to darkness, but rode in upon a shining steed to cast out the plague that dared into this fair city. I remember that General Lyte stood with sword gleaming in defiance of an army far beyond her means to oppose, unflinching. I remember a city ravaged by war, but I no longer see it. I see a city of indomitable spirit, a spirit that rebuilds what is lost, stronger and more durable than before, defiant to the last. I see a city that will NEVER bow beneath the heel of those who offer only fear and the mercy of a tyrant. I SEE a city, nay I SEE a Glorious Jewel that all in the North desire to add to their laurel, and I SEE that Glorious Jewel remaining as it ever has. This Glorious Jewel stands proudly upon its own two feet, bowing to no man nor power!
My friends, as I said when I took the stand, I am but a man. A man with two hands, two eyes, and one voice. My friends, each of you possesses these qualities as well. Two hands by themselves is little wonder, but if we take your two hands, and your two hands, and your two hands, and your two hands! *Pointing out at the crowd at different people, his voice building louder with passion If all of our hands find themselves upon the same goal, my friends, not even mountains may stand still. If my eyes gaze into the darkness, and your eyes gaze into the darkness, then nothing may remain hidden, and they shall scurry away lest their mischief be turned against them. Finally my friends! You all possess a voice, a beautiful, perfect voice to which to give voice to every miracle you have witnessed. A voice to remind your neighbor to NOT give in to fear of the cudgel, to fear of the dark, to fear of the cold, to fear ANY damned thing this city has not stood through before.
His voice grows quiet once more, taking a deep breath
I am but a man with one voice, as are each of you. Let your voices be heard, let not the whispers from the dark hold sway, but cast them out. Raise each and every voice in song, in good cheer, and in such a cacaphony of determination that those whispering in the dark remain so unheard, until they are forgotten as they deserve. My friends, I have said my piece, it is time to look into your hearts and discover what resides within, to see what makes the Fisher King so proud.
He looks to the sky a moment, his voice booming from the stand in what almost seems a trick one would expect from the bardic stage, each word carefully orated and shouted at the top of his lungs, his hand raised to the Heavens.
GLORY TO THE JEWEL, AND DEATH TO HER ENEMIES!
(Taking 10, a persuade of 28.)
