Regisfall

THE CLARION ... The Public's Muster
26th Varethis, 16991

Penned by Dell Scriver,
Edana City Library.

Distributed freely.

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THE FORGE STILL BURNS HOT ... By Our Hand

To call the Lord Commander Empyrean a "madman" is a comforting lie. It allows the nobility to gasp in feigned shock and the public to tremble at a bogeyman, ignoring the chilling truth.

We are told a monster has been cast out from the disciplined and gallant Mercadian forces, but I put it to you that the monster was not cast out - it was forged within them. The Lord Commander stands not as an aberration, but as the purest product of an institution that we have been taught to revere without question.

Consider the hallmarks of the perfect soldier. In Lord Commander Empyrean, prized loyalty curdled into an intolerance for dissent. Ruthlessness held in awe on the battlefield became a routine cruelty that would poison his command. We isolate our military, wrapping it in a mystique of honor and sacrifice.

And then we are surprised that its leaders forget they are meant to serve the society from which they have been estranged?

Every medal upon their chests, every title granted, serves to reinforce the delusion that the will of an officer and the good of the Kingdom are one in the same.

Well, I say - hunt this great beast. Condemn him. Strip him of his honors in the public square for all to see. But when the spectacle comes to a close, know this: the forge that shaped this wild, swinging axe burns as hot as ever. As long as we continue to venerate the myth of the soldier, driven into the fray by the Divine Crook of the Shepherd, Himself...

It is not a question of if another Lord Commander Empyrean will emerge, but a simple matter of when.

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A SILENT OFFERING ... And an Invitation

For the past few weeks, a quiet mystery has unfolded across Edana. Residents open their doors to a gift awaiting them: a pitcher of cold, fresh milk.

The phenomenon is most pervasive in the north of the city, affecting many upscale homes in the burgh. These pitchers have even been found in the yard of the Church.

While the Council remains silent, the citizenry continues to receive these curious blessings.

Yet, questions linger.

Is this a simple act of charity, or is it a message - perhaps even an omen?

To this mysterious benefactor, I issue a warning, and make an offer.

Superstition can perverse the most noble of intents.

To prevent your message from getting lost, my door is open. I'll record your story, even if not your name. You have our attention; let us hear what you have to say!

THE CLARION ... The Public's Muster
29th Varethis, 16991

Penned by Dell Scriver,
Edana City Library.

Distributed freely.

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OUR SAINT SPEAKS OF SALVATION ... Don't They Always?

"Honest," "direct," "transparent." These are the words I heard from a man in the crowd. His eyes were alight with admiration for the Councilman's 28th Varethis address.

While the public hears "honesty" and "unity" in the Councilman's words, they are comforted by the illusion of an orderly leader. We were not witness to a political address, but the public coronation of a man wearing his trauma as a crown. The "vigilance" he demands is his paranoia, and his "divine will" is the logic of a man who cannot otherwise endure reality.

So he offers a bargain.

And believe me, dear reader, this is the oldest and most dangerous in history. Liberty exchanged for the promise of safety. He asks us to become a city of watchmen, reporting on our neighbors, locking our doors, and surrendering the right of the commons. He sharpens the knife used to cut away the "rot" in our city and asks us to admire its gleam.

Indeed, the most dangerous words spoken were of faith: "Talathas wills it." With these words, the line between councilman and prophet is gone. When a leader believes his authority flows from the divine, the law becomes whatever he wills it. Justice becomes whatever deemed necessary. Opposing thought ceases to be mere dissent, taking upon the mantle of blasphemy.

Mercadia stands at a precipice. We can cower behind the walls of the fearful city the Councilman offers. Or we can face the monsters in the wilds, and in our halls of power, as free citizens. As you listen to the hopeful words of our new saint, realize that his halo may be the rim of a gilded cage settling around us.

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THE LEDGER ...

• On 28th Varethis, Councilman Warren emerged from the ward of the Edana church after rumors of death and mutilation.

• Attack launched on Arandor. Several elves wounded. Magnus Empyrean, with help of disgraced Kingsguardmen Clyde Marshal and Solmyr Nightveil, to blame.

• Councilman Warren addressed the public on the developing hunt for Magnus Empyrean, calling for unity and faith. Vows to reach out to Arandor for mutual efforts.

• Some attending citizens expressed a promise to defend the city if necessary.

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UNTIL NEXT TIME ...

A matter of philosophical query for the readers...
When a man leaves a headless corpse behind, what - precisely - returns in his place?

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This edition of the Clarion was funded by generous donation.

Write Dell...
KoM Post Box #6
Edana.