Told from the Rant Stand
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After being told the reason behind all the derision, the old priest manages to smile. He knows they heard him and understood his message well enough to laugh at it. His smile is not as broad as it could be, for his is a heart with many concerns. He returns to the Temple for his prayers in relative silence, bearing all the ridicule quite gracefully.
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Meanwhile, far off, a certain dwarven priestess of Umberlee piously drowns a kitten in the bitterly cold waters of Her shrine, earnestly petitioning the Bitch Queen to accept her mewing sacrifice and teach the stinking fisherfolk of Peltarch a lesson by sweeping one of their faithless number into her numbing depths, in vengeance for their heathen, fearless ways. While the little sodden body bobs in the waters, she hoots and cackles and repairs to a table, for a drop o' rum and a crunch of ship's biscuit. Merciful indeed…
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After a bout of laughter equally helpless to John's, Sabre wheezes in enough breath to shout:
"Aye aye! We need more Mercy in Peltarch!"
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Wren, passing through Peltarch with a distracted expression, listens to the sermon keeping a carefully straight face, then goes off to speak to the Father.
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A scruffy haired beggar stands from his usual spot in the market place to listen to the sermon. He nods softly as the priest concludes his address. He is pierced, but not discouraged or surprised by the laughter his sermon brought fourth.
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even senria, who happened to catch only part of it, seems very amused by this speech for some odd reason or another, chuckling to herself before shaking her head and wandering off
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::Mariston watches the priest of Ilmater with respect, seeing the two laughing, he frowns a moment. Then taking a quill and parchment from a bag writes a short note. This he then passes to Lisa of the guards and to a Defender, his frown leaving him as he passes on the missive soon turning to a broad and merry smile as he regards the two::
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@e6ada048ef=Wywernywin:
::John blinks, looks at the man… then begins an uncontrollable fit of laughter:: Buwahahahahahh!
Kayden, standing not far away from John, joins in on the laughter, finding it all too hilarious for some reason
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::John blinks, looks at the man… then begins an uncontrollable fit of laughter:: Buwahahahahahh!
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Father Raldi takes the stand once again to deliver this sermon:
Mercy is the calm after the storm and the peace that follows. Mercy is bane to Cruelty and boon to Kindness. Mercy is part of the foundation of Life, along with Hope, Faith, Kindness, and Sacrifice. Without Mercy, blood is spilled endlessly. Without Mercy, no heart can remain light. With Mercy comes peace and solace. With Mercy comes calm and serenity. Mercy eases burdens and lifts spirits. Mercy is the birth of Hope and companion to Kindness. No saint or man of the cloth must one be to bestow the light of Mercy. Radiant, like the sun, is the man who treats his fellow-man with Mercy.
I am Tyrald Rythen, priest of Ilmater, the Broken God, and I beseech you to have mercy upon your fellow-man.
Take solace in Ilmater’s mercy, for the Broken One is ever merciful.
With that, Father Raldi takes his leave.
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A gleaming armored Sunite paladin gets up on the stand.
Excuse me folks! Has anyone heard the name Baltassa? No, it's very important. I need information on someone named Baltassa. Lives are at stake. About fifty of them, give or take one.
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Father Raldi takes the Rant Stand and delivers yet another sermon.
Kindness is the bond that strengthens, the link in the chain. Kindness is bane to Wickedness and boon to Love. Kindess is part of the Foundation of Life, along with Hope, Faith, Mercy, and Sacrifice. Without kindness, no friendships are forged. Without kindness, we are each an island with no port or ship. Through kindness to others, we form lasting bonds of friendship and love. Through kindness to others, we inspire and encourage love among all. The bond that kindness can create can be stronger than a chain of the finest dwarf-steel, harder than the toughest granite. It is more powerful than any such bond that magic can create and too powerful to be destroyed by spell alone. Anyone has the power to link with others, to extend the helping hand to his fellow-man. Anyone can invoke this power that compels all to be kind, lest kindness and not wickedness be done unto you. Kindness is the touch of the healing hand, the soothing coolness of an ointment.
I am Tyrald Rythen, priest of Ilmater, the Broken God, and I bring unto you a message of kindness.
Look to your fellow-man and see not an enemy nor a rival but a brother. Share your hearth with a starving man and let your neighbor extend that kindness unto you when the lean times come.
Find succor in the kindness of Ilmater, who always extends a hand to the downtrodden.
Father Raldi takes his leave, leaning heavily upon his staff.
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Father Raldi takes the Rant Stand again to deliver another sermon.
Faith is the armor that shields you, the roof over your head, the fire in the hearth. Faith is bane to Doubt and boon to Conviction. Faith is part of the Foundation of Life, along with Hope, Mercy, Kindness, and Sacrifice. Without faith, no paths are walked. Without faith, no trails are blazed. Faith shall guard you against all manner of beasts, even those who wear the shape of men. Faith is the road that leads you home. It gives direction, purpose, protection, and solace. One needs not be a skilled woodsman; the trail of Faith is firm and easy to read. Faith dispels doubt and strengthens the light of Hope. Hope lights the way, and Faith is the road. Anyone can walk the road, no matter what darkness may surround it. Stray from the path, and be lost – but keep on it, and be protected and safe from harm. Faith can turn a blade, unmake a spell. Faith cannot be stolen, though it can be lost. With Faith – and Hope – all is possible. Without them, all is lost.
I am Tyrald Rythen, priest of Ilmater, the Broken God, and I implore you, those who doubt yourselves, to have faith – in yourselves, in your gods, in Ilmater.
Let it shield you from harm, like armor; let others see the strength of your faith and don their own armor. Walk through the wild places of the world – yea, even of the city – with faith, and emerge unharmed.
Let faith in the Broken One, who shields the meek and helpless, ward you and keep you safe.
Father Raldi takes his leave once more, walking with the aid of his staff.
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Father Raldi takes the Rant Stand and delivers this sermon.
Hope is the oasis in the desert and the light in the darkness. Hope is bane to Fear and boon to Courage. Hope is part of the Foundation of Life, along with Faith, Mercy, Kindness, and Sacrifice. Without hope, no great deeds are wrought. Without hope, there is no life. Without hope, all is darkness. Hope springs from within; it is not something that only the mighty can wield, like some heavy blade. It is no hidden mystery that requires esoteric knowledge. Hope is a power, greater than steel or spell, greater than famine or drought, greater than the black of night and the darkness in the hearts of men, a power that anyone can wield. Hope sustains the dying man waiting for a cure for his ills. Hope feeds the hungry child rebuffed by the man walking the street. Hope is everlasting and eternal; hope can be given, ever-flowing like gold from a merchant’s coffers.
I am Tyrald Rythen, priest of Ilmater, the Broken God, and I bring hope unto you downtrodden.
Let it fill you like a good meal. Let it wash over you like water in the like. Feed from the bowl and pass it on to others. Share with your fellow-man – hope shall not run out!
Let the Broken One, who suffers for us all, take your burden and leave you with hope, for when the bread is stale and the well is dry, naught else may sustain you.
With that, the old priest takes his leave, leaning heavily upon his old unshod staff.
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With brisk steps, Black Sails captain Sabre Seesaw again approaches the rant stand, stepping up with a grim expression. Without much further ado, she speaks up:
"Yer attention please - let it be known an' put beyond doubt that the wanted criminal Jaelle no longer belongs to, nor will be protected by tha Black Sails Tradin' Company. Jaelle disappeared without a trace months back, neglectin' her duties an' givin' no explanation for her absence. What we've recently heard 'bout her suspected crimes is nothin' short o' horrendous. Should our crew find Jaelle, or should she return to us seeking shelter, she will be apprehended an' handed over ta th'Peltarch authorities ta deal wi'."
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The Herald ascends the stand with a grave expression, with crowds of people waiting below in anticipation of the election results.
"Citizens of Peltarch, I come bearing bad tidings this day. Your Senator, your General, your hero Kaster Lavindo…has fallen. Brave Kaster fell fighting in a duel for the peace and safety of all Peltarch against Thordin, King of Fire Giants. Never will a death be so sorely felt by so many people in this City, a jewel less resplendent for his passing. Due to these terrible events, the results of the elections will be further delayed, out of respect for our fallen brother."
As the Herald steps down from the stand, the crowd remains in stunned silence. After a few moments, some begin wailing, others rush home to their families, still more react with anger and disbelief.
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Adrian nods appreciatively to many declarations in the speech
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Applauds
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Clad in her usual and distinctive black and gold leathers, Black Sails captain Sabre Seesaw swaggers up to the rant stand, deftly stepping up onto a crate to hoist her modest 5.1 self up to a more visible height. She runs a hand through short-cropped raven hair, clearly not an accustomed public speaker, clearing her voice lightly before speaking up. Though a little stiff and cold initially, her voice grows in passion and conviction as the speech continues, the last sentence ringing out with heartfelt emotion:
"People o' Peltarch! Yer attention please! On behalf o' tha Black Sails Tradin' Company, I've a short announcent ta make. First off, let it be known that th'crimes committed in Norwick were -in no way- sanctioned by Black Sails command, an' in fact against direct orders! Crewmen Jay and Jack have subsequently been stripped o' rank, pay an' membership in th'company, an' will no longer enjoy th'support or protection of th'crew.
If ye'd bear with me, good people, I would like ta take a moment like ta share with ye th'cause o' this aggression on me former crewmen's part - not in order ta condone their actions, but rather ta give ya'all my thoughts regardin' a topic o' great debate o' late, namely Oscura. What does Oscura got ta do wi' a murder in Norwick, ye ask? Well, a murder is exactly what triggered this chain o' events, an' Oscura lies at th'heart of it. Th'murder of Jay himself in fact, cut down in a local bar by a dozen guards, th'head wizard Pyotr an' gleeful helpin' hands fer NO CRIME other than failin' ta hold his tongue when insults were flung against him. Fer nothin' but words, death was dealt, because th'life o'a "surfacer" means -nothin'- pitted against th'pride o' a blooded.
Fer all those fine Peltarch merchants an' traders who have found a new market in th'underground city, BE CAREFUL of investin' too deeply in a city which reserves all rights ta its own citizens alone - unless they be slaves, an' no longer considered people at all. If a person workin' fer a company -based- in Oscura gets cut down like a dog fer darin' ta talk back in th'face o' blatant verbal abuse, I shudder ta think how th'wrong turn o' phrase by an outspoken Peltarch businessman may be received.
I stand 'ere today wi' me love fer this city renewed, fer while my company was created here, while we've lived, grown an' struggled here, even bled an' died reclaimin' it's streets from th'N'Jasti scum, Peltarch law an' politics have long been a thorn in th'side o' that love. It ain't no secret several o' th'crew have seen th'inside of Peltarch's jail, myself included, an' it aint no secret we're under th' watchful eye o' that same law again. But ya know wha'? In Peltarch, we're nay EXECUTED fer bein' rough aroun' th'edges, we're nay without certain basic rights, as citizens, as persons o' whatever origin an' status.
Th'Black Sails will not only accept, but assist th'current investigation inta our affairs, an' I cin only hope that ye, th'fine people o' Peltarch, will reserve yer judgement until th'outcome o' that, an' nay judge th'entire group on th'actions of a few enraged, misguided members hell-bent on revenge. I freely admit, th'anger an' frustration these two crewmen felt, I too share, but th'violent an' ruthless attack born from that rage is an -unacceptable- response, an' th'consequences for that is for th'two responsible ta face.
Me own response ta an Oscura tha's increasingly hostile is quite different - I wish ta focus th'majority of th'Sails operations away from th'underground an' ta tha true jewel in th'crown o' Narfell, Peltarch. I will work towards creatin' more jobs fer Peltarch's able seamen an' women, an' while we are a small organization, in no way th'match o' th'lumberin' giant companies such as th'Seafarers, I like ta believe we cin bring somethin' worthwhile ta this city. I like ta think we cin -give somethin' back- ta th'city, ta th'docks we helped reclaim with our very lives on th'line!
To this end, at me orders, the Sails’ve created a fund fer th'betterment of the Jewel’s poorest dockside folk: Th' Fund for the Relief of Indigent Fishwives, Fishermen and Peltarchian People. Endowed wi’ a generous store of the Company’s own capital, this fund will function both as a means ta relieve poverty by charitable donations, but also, an' more importantly, as a means ta -prevent- poverty an' indebtment by offerin' fair an' low interest loans ta good an' honest workers fallin' upon hard times. Poor folk who be oppressed b’ th’ sharks o’ credit or who wager they’ve a special case fer recognition should address their petitions ta th' fund administrator – upright Mister Aleksandr Borodin, attorney at law – on paper or if you ain’t a reader or writer - make’n appointment ta discuss yer case.
The Black Sails Tradin' Company be committed ta Peltarch, an' I mean ta show it. Long live the Jewel!"
With that, the petite sailor steps off her perch, hand at her hip as she watches the crowd for possible reactions.
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Vick listens to the banishment from an obscure spot, out of site of the crowd. He nods his head and then quietly slips off through the throng, barely noticed.
