Post by Nate on Feb 12, 2012 20:00:49 GMT -8
*This would be easily found by anyone in the freehold, though it is addressed to the king.*
I've been listening to the voices at the market, people warning of war and chaos. Whispers of the King that Would Be Again and the Mad Queen of the Sunset Coast flood my kitchen. Even sweeping the dust from the attic, my own memories won't leave me in peace.
I have, in my long past, served many houses, in both courts. Not as a knight or noble, but in the role I was born for. Steward and butler, servant and janitor. Admittedly, not very prestigious positions, but it allowed me to survive for countless years. I have observed much, and remember most of it.
I served Old Man Winter in his castle of ice and snow, high atop the mountains. The world fears him, when he and his armies march against summer's end. Year after year, the battle staines the leaves red.
I served the Green Man's court, under the Horned One. I have seen him and his slaughtered countless times by the fierce Great Hunt. I have seen the Throne of Mirrors and Darkness, and glimpsed the horrible fates of warriors as the Farseeing Lady watched the bloodshed for her entertainment.
I have served a mortal woman, who as a young girl dreamed of water for her family, in the desert lands. Then war destroyed all that she loved, and she survived, and kept surviving. She surpassed her humanity, and became the legend known as the Mistress of Blades.
Where the war-banner is raised, souls fall. The first casualties of strife are the innocent. And a war is coming to us, whether we want it or not. When the King and Queen finally clash, it will be the young and unhoused on the front lines. Our streets will flood with our very own blood. Our valleys and vales will echo with the shrieks of metal and flesh. Even long after, our silence will be filled with the screams of the dead.
They call war the final political tool. Because nothing survives war. It shatters and consumes all.
So, I plead with you all, find another solution that won't destroy all that we've built, together.
Signed,
Vincent du Boggan ap Eiluned, Court Scribe and Steward of the Freehold.
I've been listening to the voices at the market, people warning of war and chaos. Whispers of the King that Would Be Again and the Mad Queen of the Sunset Coast flood my kitchen. Even sweeping the dust from the attic, my own memories won't leave me in peace.
I have, in my long past, served many houses, in both courts. Not as a knight or noble, but in the role I was born for. Steward and butler, servant and janitor. Admittedly, not very prestigious positions, but it allowed me to survive for countless years. I have observed much, and remember most of it.
I served Old Man Winter in his castle of ice and snow, high atop the mountains. The world fears him, when he and his armies march against summer's end. Year after year, the battle staines the leaves red.
I served the Green Man's court, under the Horned One. I have seen him and his slaughtered countless times by the fierce Great Hunt. I have seen the Throne of Mirrors and Darkness, and glimpsed the horrible fates of warriors as the Farseeing Lady watched the bloodshed for her entertainment.
I have served a mortal woman, who as a young girl dreamed of water for her family, in the desert lands. Then war destroyed all that she loved, and she survived, and kept surviving. She surpassed her humanity, and became the legend known as the Mistress of Blades.
Where the war-banner is raised, souls fall. The first casualties of strife are the innocent. And a war is coming to us, whether we want it or not. When the King and Queen finally clash, it will be the young and unhoused on the front lines. Our streets will flood with our very own blood. Our valleys and vales will echo with the shrieks of metal and flesh. Even long after, our silence will be filled with the screams of the dead.
They call war the final political tool. Because nothing survives war. It shatters and consumes all.
So, I plead with you all, find another solution that won't destroy all that we've built, together.
Signed,
Vincent du Boggan ap Eiluned, Court Scribe and Steward of the Freehold.