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Post by Munroe on Jan 3, 2010 7:20:28 GMT -5
People of Redmist!
What have you come to? What happened to those who love their freedom and independance? What happened to those who stand up and fight for it?
You have been brought under the whip again, under the rule of a whore that sits on the Cormyrian throne.
They took your freedom. They took your name, once a name of independence and pride now erased by a name imposed by the force who brought you the whip again.
Don't accept your fate. Don't give in and don't bow to the whore of the Cormyrian throne.
Oppose her henchmen! Oppose their work! Oppose this threat and reclaim your freedom! |
OOC: Posted by player request.
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Post by The Flying Ve on Jan 3, 2010 8:28:15 GMT -5
Leaning heavily on a wooden staff, the grizzled old man carefully reads through the poster, mumbling the words to himself, then wraps a black scarf around his face again after emptying his mug of warm mulled wine.
In the end, this changes nothing. However...opportunity beckons. Or would...curse these old bones.
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Post by Thrym on Jan 4, 2010 5:12:39 GMT -5
A man in purple dragon uniform smoking a pipe glances one of the posters over and lets out a displeased grunt. He briefly utters a cantrip to destroy it and continues on his way, muttering silently under his breath:
"Darn rebel scum should be glad the crown gives them another chance at all."
A few seconds later, he glances south with an expression as if someone had just asked him something amazingly stupid.
"No Eneth. You may most definitly not."
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Post by The Flying Ve on Jan 4, 2010 5:38:45 GMT -5
Well, if that ain't Brannon...
Trip-trapping around Valkur's Roar, the long staff striking a steady, even rhythm accompanying the slightly hunched gait of the black cloaked old man. In a low bass, he addresses the purple dragon, while pulling out a worn, wooden and highly chewed upon pipe out of the neck of his leathers:
Say, lad, got some light fer an old man's pipe?
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Post by Thrym on Jan 4, 2010 6:08:47 GMT -5
"Hm?"
He glances over his shoulder, eyeing the old man briefly.
"Certainly, good man..."
The Battlemage clenches his fist and presses it against the head of the old man's pipe, then rubs his thumb over his indexfinger briefly, mumbling a silent "Zippo", causing a small magically created spark to light the pipe.
"There you go."
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Post by The Flying Ve on Jan 4, 2010 6:19:28 GMT -5
((Zibbo!!! *g* ))
The gaunt, thin man huffs and puffs and keeps the embers burning with a faint smell of pine and mint. With a devilish grin he falls into step aside the mage:
Thanks, lad.
He narrows his eyes slightly and cocks his head after demonstratively looking the war wizard up and down:
Mmm, thought all yer lot'd left back ter Suzail. Not me trade why yer hear, but do fergive an old man his curiousity if he'd like ter ask what yer think o' tha las' year. Wha' some o' them think, not sayin' them all, well, we both saw tha', but I like ter hear all sides, not havin' been in these parts fer some time.
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Post by Thrym on Jan 4, 2010 6:54:22 GMT -5
Brannon ((who is actually a Purple Dragon Battlemage and no War Wizard)) takes another pull from his own pipe and seems to think over his words carefully for a moment. Once he seems done contemplating, he speaks:
"Well, Order has been restored here from what I can tell. Things are the way they should be again, and it seems most of the... people ... who riled up the citizen here are gone..."
The wizard's gaze wanders to another poster.
"... well, most of them anyways. None the less, I have little doubt that after the clearly positive reaction the general populace showed to the Steel Regent last year, such thinly veiled propaganda will fall on deaf ears."
He takes another pull from his pipe and slows his usually swift stride a bit to allow the old man to keep up with him more easily, then continues.
"Mind you, I'm a soldier, no politician, but it'd appear to me those posters were put up by a member of some disgruntled minority who has something to loose from things returning to how they should be, and is in no way representative of the general mood of the citizens here."
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Post by The Flying Ve on Jan 4, 2010 7:15:38 GMT -5
The old man chuckles dryly, nodding gratefully for the slower tempo.
Nah, not really subtle, eh? Makes my heart cry dragon's tears, folk puttin' up posters everywhere like it means somethin'. Crown's here an' here ter stay an' it'll take more'n posters ter make her go away again.
He looks around from beneath his hood, noting the reactions the passer-bys have to the wizard in full Cormyran regalia, studying each face. He continues in a muffled tone, almost a whisper:
Folk're int'restin' like tha', yer know? They put up posters 'cause they believe in somethin', but wha' they put up migh' not be wha' they believe in. Righ' now, I wager a lot o' folk're still afeared o' the dragons, mayhap even some o' the purple ones. Yer see a mighty strong man cut down a big scaly, yer av'rage commoner start wonderin' wha' he migh' decide ter cut down nex'. Them little thoughts, heh, well, they'll grow. The posters won' change nothin' 'bout tha', one way or the other, but the feller puttin' them up whisperin' here an' there...well, tha' migh' cause trouble.
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Post by Thrym on Jan 5, 2010 2:55:34 GMT -5
The wizard chuckles himself and eyes his pipe for a moment.
"Well, good man... I don't know about you, but I do know I was an 'average commoner', as you put it, once. And I grew up listening to tales about the purple dragons. It's powerful imagery. Even if some of those people might have lost faith in the crown, they too grew up listening to these tales."
He takes another pull from the pipe.
"I know that, even if I had lost my faith in the crown, as hard as that is for me to imagine, I would still have known what to expect of the purple dragons. Look around. I'm sure many of these men dreamed of being one when they were kids. Maybe you dreamt of it once yourself. A purple dragon is not just a soldier - he is bound to the knightly, the twelve virtues... people know what to expect of a purple dragon, and they know very well it is not random acts of violence against defenseless folk."
He watches one of the smoke clouds he exhaled for a moment, then continues.
"When I was a younger man and I saw some random adventurer who could take out a 'big scaley' - yeah. I was kinda worried he might do something crazy. But a Purple Dragon? Nah. These people here still grew up as Cormyrians. They know what to expect of us dragons. And they know it's something good."
Taking another pull from his pipe, the mage glances over at the old man.
"None the less, you do have a point of course. There are those who might attempt to sway doubtful citizens. There will always be people like that. Makes it even more important to show some presence if you ask me. Lead by example they say - if the people who doubt see once more that the crown and the dragons are there for them, they will not be swayed by such propaganda."
A slight grin appears on the mage's face.
"And it's often the smallest of things that make people more at ease. Showing that one is approachable. Like lighting an old man's pipe when asked."
The Firstsword chuckles and takes another pull from his own pipe.
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