Nº. III
VOICES IN UNISON
OR
VOCES UNUM AGUNT,
POLITICAL JOURNAL OF THE PEOPLE by Elevans, author of the Art of Revolution.
Life for the truth.
O S R O N A E T E S S H A R .
January, 1662AC.
T H E Y A R E T H E E N E M Y
N O T E T O T H E P E O P L E
Much has happened last years. I have been trying to produce my newspaper, however, the strict and censoring acts of the First Light have managed to delay such important issue. However, no matter their tries, I will never allow those putrid hands to silence us. Under this bias, aprioristically, we reveal what happened inside the Pelleaux Gala.
The rumours are strong with this case, nonetheless, most are terribly wrong. Now, you're reading the view of the person organizing the whole operation, synthesizing, the truth. Some say I am the culmination of the people's rage, the convergence of united peasantry - with that being said, my ears are everywhere, and my eyes reach everything. The Syndicate was aware of the gala way before the public, thus, our group found it rather easy to invade the Pelleaux estate. After all, the people legitimately owns everything, we merely exert our right.
We entered and I've sent them a message. I've told them that for ages, they were untouchable. Living above all castes, bathing in covetousness. Consuming the most outstanding banquets and drinking wines made from the finest vintners from Esshar, all inside their glistening palaces of ignorance, isolated from the people, unaware of our necessities.
The invasion had the goal to introduce the end of such debauched times. A reminder that they are not beyond our reach. No sacrosanct status will leave the workers' screams unheard because we, the people, we scream a lot. Covering their ears won't be enough anymore. Once their alienation is no longer able to contain the people, these streets will be filled with enraged men ready to lacerate their heads. Their houses will be flooded with workers occupying every property they own. And their wealth will be redistributed to the countless revolting plebeians who dethroned such vermins.
Oh, my readers - I must also remind you how those inside their splendiferous castles do not care about you. When we entered the gala, the FIRST action one of the Pelleauxs, Sophia, had, was to stand up to me, enraged. They live as ascended members of society... and are easily enraged when someone invades their property, when their estate was gained through the exploration of the poor. While she unleashed her fury because we stepped inside that rotten place, assembled by the vileashes of corruption and hoarding wealth - the people starved outside, claiming for help... and our fury is contained by the laws the bourgeois creates. Truly, shameful.
And during the pinnacle of the event, one of us, Salvation, died. Died fighting for the people, fighting against the exarch knight! After Salvation's death... the whole saloon hailed this feeble man, working for the nobility. I ensure you: alienation can be cured. Elijah could fight for the people, but he chooses to continue the oppressive system we live in. Again, shameful.
One of us died for the cause. But what is that on the wide spectrum of society? We fight to liberate the poor, who die from starvation everyday. The Syndicate will never forget Salvation, or better, Soirée, as one of our grandiose partners - but remember, workers, the countless that die will justificate the deaths we must create to save this country.
Some months after this incident, the city was graced with the Rhoynish Festival... and once again, their shackles try to pin us down. Since I was unable to be present during the Rhoynish festival, I have interviewed Crowley, who replied with the following depose:
"Traitors are still in our midst. We all saw it. The Knights, so brutally aiming to push their way through the crowd, uncaring for the fact civilians were around and eager to throw magic at anyone that dared to say they were not correct in defending the nobles. It went as far as attacking their former friends, simply for saying that the nobles did not deserve to be above others. I remember every single face from the day of the Festival. I remember each enemy that tried to chase the Syndicate out like we were a pest, simply for spreading our words. I remember every knight that pulled their sword on us, and donned their armor without hesitating for an instant. They were ready to strike at the civilians, at all times. Perhaps if not for the Syndicate diverting their attention, many innocents would have died in the First Light Order's blind pursuit. I know the name of them. The ones that dared to disrespect the legacy of the Rhoynish, by using clothes of the ones that massacred their people. And yet, they say we are insane. That we are sadistic. They are the ones that try as hard as they can to remind the people that they would have killed every single one that stood against the nobles."
The rumours are strong with this case, nonetheless, most are terribly wrong. Now, you're reading the view of the person organizing the whole operation, synthesizing, the truth. Some say I am the culmination of the people's rage, the convergence of united peasantry - with that being said, my ears are everywhere, and my eyes reach everything. The Syndicate was aware of the gala way before the public, thus, our group found it rather easy to invade the Pelleaux estate. After all, the people legitimately owns everything, we merely exert our right.
We entered and I've sent them a message. I've told them that for ages, they were untouchable. Living above all castes, bathing in covetousness. Consuming the most outstanding banquets and drinking wines made from the finest vintners from Esshar, all inside their glistening palaces of ignorance, isolated from the people, unaware of our necessities.
The invasion had the goal to introduce the end of such debauched times. A reminder that they are not beyond our reach. No sacrosanct status will leave the workers' screams unheard because we, the people, we scream a lot. Covering their ears won't be enough anymore. Once their alienation is no longer able to contain the people, these streets will be filled with enraged men ready to lacerate their heads. Their houses will be flooded with workers occupying every property they own. And their wealth will be redistributed to the countless revolting plebeians who dethroned such vermins.
Oh, my readers - I must also remind you how those inside their splendiferous castles do not care about you. When we entered the gala, the FIRST action one of the Pelleauxs, Sophia, had, was to stand up to me, enraged. They live as ascended members of society... and are easily enraged when someone invades their property, when their estate was gained through the exploration of the poor. While she unleashed her fury because we stepped inside that rotten place, assembled by the vileashes of corruption and hoarding wealth - the people starved outside, claiming for help... and our fury is contained by the laws the bourgeois creates. Truly, shameful.
And during the pinnacle of the event, one of us, Salvation, died. Died fighting for the people, fighting against the exarch knight! After Salvation's death... the whole saloon hailed this feeble man, working for the nobility. I ensure you: alienation can be cured. Elijah could fight for the people, but he chooses to continue the oppressive system we live in. Again, shameful.
One of us died for the cause. But what is that on the wide spectrum of society? We fight to liberate the poor, who die from starvation everyday. The Syndicate will never forget Salvation, or better, Soirée, as one of our grandiose partners - but remember, workers, the countless that die will justificate the deaths we must create to save this country.
Some months after this incident, the city was graced with the Rhoynish Festival... and once again, their shackles try to pin us down. Since I was unable to be present during the Rhoynish festival, I have interviewed Crowley, who replied with the following depose:
"Traitors are still in our midst. We all saw it. The Knights, so brutally aiming to push their way through the crowd, uncaring for the fact civilians were around and eager to throw magic at anyone that dared to say they were not correct in defending the nobles. It went as far as attacking their former friends, simply for saying that the nobles did not deserve to be above others. I remember every single face from the day of the Festival. I remember each enemy that tried to chase the Syndicate out like we were a pest, simply for spreading our words. I remember every knight that pulled their sword on us, and donned their armor without hesitating for an instant. They were ready to strike at the civilians, at all times. Perhaps if not for the Syndicate diverting their attention, many innocents would have died in the First Light Order's blind pursuit. I know the name of them. The ones that dared to disrespect the legacy of the Rhoynish, by using clothes of the ones that massacred their people. And yet, they say we are insane. That we are sadistic. They are the ones that try as hard as they can to remind the people that they would have killed every single one that stood against the nobles."
I end today's note with the following sentence, to inspite reflections:
If I feed the poor, they call me a saint. If I ask why they are poor, they call me a revolutionary.
If I feed the poor, they call me a saint. If I ask why they are poor, they call me a revolutionary.
T R A I T O R S O F T H E P E O P L E
I will name the traitors, those who chose the oppression and the blue-blooded over the people of Osrona.
The Exarch Knight Elijah Soleis. He's, namely, the Queen's little puppy, as he declared that his person would do anything the Queen orders him to do. Ipsis litteris on his interview with another newspapper: "(...) whatever Queen Ariande Petrakis asks of him, it's what he will do, because he serves as her sword and doesn't pretend to be anything greater." Nonentheless, the man has "no problems with servitude" - as he declares you can work yourself out of being an indentured servant. Of course the filthy man that was never exposed to OBLIGATORY LABOR would make such declaration. Pathetic. People, do not forget this man. He doesn't trust you. He only likes the monarchy.
Adrielle Solenne and Chery, during the Rhoynish festival, chose to ignore our people - to fight against us. They are, truly, ones who want to reject their roots. People, remember them, and make sure to remind them of what they did. Do not have mercy.
And you, patriarch of the Kurokayio, I have been watching your antics. We really despise slavers.
Adrielle Solenne and Chery, during the Rhoynish festival, chose to ignore our people - to fight against us. They are, truly, ones who want to reject their roots. People, remember them, and make sure to remind them of what they did. Do not have mercy.
And you, patriarch of the Kurokayio, I have been watching your antics. We really despise slavers.