You find yourself stranded amidst a mostly silent press of armored adventurers and curious craftsmen amassed before Castle British, the eyes of every citizen fixed on the figure standing before the bridge on a hastily erected stack of crates. His inscribed sash, dyed the red color of the Guard, marks him as a member of the Royal Court. His dark suit of platemail shines with almost a magical radiance, though its purpose looks nothing more than ceremonial.
"My name is Algar, Royal Adjutant to our most benevolent majesty, Queen Dawn!" he bellows clear across the crowd. A few questioning whispers fill your ears from those standing nearby.
"I have come before you with a summons from your Queen! The conflict against the abominations of the Void and their blasphemous creators, the Juka and their allies, continues!" Algar pauses, taking a deep breath.
"And even now, it comes to her attention there are those who question the wisdom of the Queen! And even doubt the strength of their own people! Some find their loyalty wavering in the face of such an onslaught!" Algar sweeps his eyes across the mass. "In this war there is no room for weakness! There is no room for dissent!"
The whispers hush immediately, the crowd growing deathly quiet.
"My friends, remember that we have endured worse! And even then, there was no question of loyalty! Many times have we stood on the edge of our own ruin and still, against all threats, arisen victorious! And with each victory we grow stronger and all the more glorious and powerful! With each victory, every malicious heart must stop and shudder, searching within themselves to stand and plot secretly against her majesty and the enduring legacy of a pious people purified by the virtues of our immortal Lord British!"
You notice many in the crowd straighten themselves at the mention of the virtues and of the venerated Lord British. Some cry out their approval.
"Look inside yourselves, for you know the Queen needs her servants more than ever now, my friends! And hear me now if you hear nothing else! When the dust has settled and the battle is won, it will be the faithful that remain standing! There will be no mercy for traitors, no clemency for the violent dissenters!"
Cheers erupt from the crowd, almost deafening you as Algar lowers himself fromt he crates.
"Believe in Queen Dawn, believe in the might of this kingdom, believe in the guiding path of the eternal Virtues, and come find me when you are ready!"
Saluting without further word, Royal Adjutant Algar withdraws to Castle British amidst the cries of fervor and approval that drown out even your very thoughts.
-----------
It takes the persuasive movements of the Town Guard to restrain and disperse the crowd. Turning to leave as well, you feel the light brush of a robe sleeve rush past you and you catch only the merest glimpse of a figure before it disappears among the remaining crowd. Shrugging, it is now you feel the crumpling of parchment in your formerly empty hand. Looking down, a letter is cramped inside your half closed fist, sealed with an insignia you have never seen before.
Returning home, you break the seal and unfurl the large parchment:
Greetings xentuus,
Receive first the blessings of our mighty Warlord-Prince, powerful and most fair before our Fathers, and know it is my hope that this letter finds you in clear mind and sound body.
I will be direct.
I have watched you. And for what I propose, be advised that some will call you traitor, and others will call down the word blasphemer upon you and see you only as a bringer of disorder. Do not let this dissuade you.
In you I see only a realist. An opportunist of the most sagacious kind. You have not forgotten your duty and your honor and you have sought well the future of your kingdom, and you have searched for the glory and wonder your rulers tell you that awaits in victory. But you know, as well as I, there is no future beyond this conflict. There is only the chaos that ensues from blood spilled needlessly. But there is also the peace and humility that submission brings. Submission to the greatness that is the Juka and their unstoppable armies, cunning magics, and virtuous leaders.
And our Warlord-Prince, in his munificence, remembers well those that serve to bring about his will!
Join us and be sanctified! Honorable battle, glory everlasting, and ripe spoils await you!
Come find me, Britannian xentuus, near Mistas when you are ready. I will be waiting.
Elder-Councillor Branka
"My name is Algar, Royal Adjutant to our most benevolent majesty, Queen Dawn!" he bellows clear across the crowd. A few questioning whispers fill your ears from those standing nearby.
"I have come before you with a summons from your Queen! The conflict against the abominations of the Void and their blasphemous creators, the Juka and their allies, continues!" Algar pauses, taking a deep breath.
"And even now, it comes to her attention there are those who question the wisdom of the Queen! And even doubt the strength of their own people! Some find their loyalty wavering in the face of such an onslaught!" Algar sweeps his eyes across the mass. "In this war there is no room for weakness! There is no room for dissent!"
The whispers hush immediately, the crowd growing deathly quiet.
"My friends, remember that we have endured worse! And even then, there was no question of loyalty! Many times have we stood on the edge of our own ruin and still, against all threats, arisen victorious! And with each victory we grow stronger and all the more glorious and powerful! With each victory, every malicious heart must stop and shudder, searching within themselves to stand and plot secretly against her majesty and the enduring legacy of a pious people purified by the virtues of our immortal Lord British!"
You notice many in the crowd straighten themselves at the mention of the virtues and of the venerated Lord British. Some cry out their approval.
"Look inside yourselves, for you know the Queen needs her servants more than ever now, my friends! And hear me now if you hear nothing else! When the dust has settled and the battle is won, it will be the faithful that remain standing! There will be no mercy for traitors, no clemency for the violent dissenters!"
Cheers erupt from the crowd, almost deafening you as Algar lowers himself fromt he crates.
"Believe in Queen Dawn, believe in the might of this kingdom, believe in the guiding path of the eternal Virtues, and come find me when you are ready!"
Saluting without further word, Royal Adjutant Algar withdraws to Castle British amidst the cries of fervor and approval that drown out even your very thoughts.
-----------
It takes the persuasive movements of the Town Guard to restrain and disperse the crowd. Turning to leave as well, you feel the light brush of a robe sleeve rush past you and you catch only the merest glimpse of a figure before it disappears among the remaining crowd. Shrugging, it is now you feel the crumpling of parchment in your formerly empty hand. Looking down, a letter is cramped inside your half closed fist, sealed with an insignia you have never seen before.
Returning home, you break the seal and unfurl the large parchment:
Greetings xentuus,
Receive first the blessings of our mighty Warlord-Prince, powerful and most fair before our Fathers, and know it is my hope that this letter finds you in clear mind and sound body.
I will be direct.
I have watched you. And for what I propose, be advised that some will call you traitor, and others will call down the word blasphemer upon you and see you only as a bringer of disorder. Do not let this dissuade you.
In you I see only a realist. An opportunist of the most sagacious kind. You have not forgotten your duty and your honor and you have sought well the future of your kingdom, and you have searched for the glory and wonder your rulers tell you that awaits in victory. But you know, as well as I, there is no future beyond this conflict. There is only the chaos that ensues from blood spilled needlessly. But there is also the peace and humility that submission brings. Submission to the greatness that is the Juka and their unstoppable armies, cunning magics, and virtuous leaders.
And our Warlord-Prince, in his munificence, remembers well those that serve to bring about his will!
Join us and be sanctified! Honorable battle, glory everlasting, and ripe spoils await you!
Come find me, Britannian xentuus, near Mistas when you are ready. I will be waiting.
Elder-Councillor Branka