*old man with grey beard, and tired armor*

[EDM Entori]

*an Old Man approaches inns thorough out Cormyr and western reaches he places the following on the boards*




Humans of Cormyr, and other races.

Within the Past Elven and Dwarven militia's have aided, In the defense of the Realm. Both with not nature to let the realm of Cormyr and it's peoples, down or go unprotected.


This has been.. accepted and Spit back ungratefully, and with loathing.

Cormyr would not give other races the chance it once took. to regain lost lands, Cormyr would enter the home of one such milita and By FORCE impose their will. While the very thing they seek to stop.. an invading drow force.. Already happens, Lock your doors good Cormyrans, the Drow seek your souls in the night.

Cormyr has accepted Elven and dwarven aid in the recent Silver Rush, the Silent Dominion, and other none published battles. At cost of their blood, and it goes Unwelcome. To provide for themselves. I dare say at times they would not have prevailed without it.


Cormyr Exists because of Elven Ties.... Cormyr has avoided the drow plaging it's night For so long, Because oghrann a dwarven clan shieled them for many years.

Cormyr stood by while hundreds of dwarves died. Now they impose their will, at threats of destruction.


Elves and Dwarves of Cormyr. Pick up NO axe. Barter with no human, and hold no bow.

It is time to give voice ..



*every bard seen in an inn is given 300 gold to read it aloud, every gnomish crier, 400.*



-author Unknwon , it is a human who posts the letters.

[qewaye]

An elf in green, passing by, reads the notice and lifts a hand under her hood to touch her forehead under a mithril and copper circlet.

She stands for a long moment, perfectly still, her usually impassive and calm expression is one of utter crushed and confused weariness.

She lowers her hand and walks on into the crowds.

[The Supreme Watcher]

A man clad in mail comprised of silver chainmail and blue dragonscales peruses the board, and chuckles when he reads the letter. "So, the dwarves and elves think they've outgrown prejudice, do they?" He rubs his scruffy beard, and re-reads the passage.

"Looks like there's money to be made... and blood to be had." He grips the hilt of his massive broadsword, and moves on, his white dragonhide boots making little noise as he exits the drinking hole.

"... I'm sure one of these low-bred freaks knows who killed Garistan."

[Kelandros Armelis]

*A man passes by one of these letters, stops and reads them, then turns to the crowd assembled at the inn and speaks loud*

"So they think we humans owe them alot?
Owe them to be murdered in towns for just being human?
Owe them to be robbed while passing through a forest?
Owe them to give them land which is under the rulership of someone else?"

*He shortly glances to an elf who sits close by and is looking at him, giving a cold and hateful stare which makes the elf look quickly the other way*

"These vermin think we should be the ones to be thankful for them?"

*he ripps down the letter and crumples it in his hand*

"The only thing we owe them is that they taste our steel and suffocate in their own filthy blood.
We are not dependant on them and if they turn on us they will be crushed!
No human will bow to these savages!"

*Some humans in the inn toast to the speech, the man sinking the crumpled letter into the drink of the elf who has dared to look at him again, then leaves the inn*

[longearmage]

Silverstring hears the man's inciting speech. After he leaves, the Bard of Suzail then stands up and begins his attempt.

"Citizens of Cormyr, friends, countrymen! Rather than wallow in our anger at what appears to be a harsh, misguided request to the common people for help, let us remember that, yes, the elves and dwarves have helped us in past wars.

Let us also remember the gnomes, hin, half-orcs, half-elves, solars, divine creatures, dragonkin and other beings that have aided us. I do not see them cutting themselves off from us.

Yet, we are not blameless. Nay, without the elves, Cormyr would not exist. Iliphar Nelnueve, the Lord of the Scepters, battled the great Purple Dragon, Thauglorimorgorus, for dominion over Cormyr, elvish for "the Wolf Woods." Without his great victory, humans would have been nowhere near our great land.

And the dwarves! Aye, the remnants of clan Oghrann have shielded us for so long against the scourge in the darkness! We can do no less for our friends and brothers among the other races.

Anger battling against anger will do us no good whatsoever. Rather, take this anger-induced call *he gestures to the letter* as ONE being's frustration. I urge you, as fellow Cormyreans, to aid our friends, our brothers, our fellows in this great land. A drow horde will affect all of us. Let us all stand together, once more, and show the indomitable pride and strength we have for our great land."

As Silver bows and walks out of the inn, the toasting gives way to thoughtful stares and mutterings. His speech is repeated (by him) across Cormyr wherever mentions of this are made.

[canuckkane]

A very large, very muscular, yet extremely pale half-orc stops to read the note briefly and utters a snort of derision.

"Hrmph, they are surprised at the lack of gratitude Cormyr offers to those that come rushing to it's aid? Welcome to my world..."

Vrulo's words are uttered loudly enough to be heard and simply taper off at the end as he skulks out the door and into the streets.