Hanging The Wingless Drake

[Milly]

“You hear that, Esshar? The sounds of ripe hypocrisy that comes

 from the so-called shimmering city?”

In response to the Astor’s bold claim of hanging not just the Dragoon’s elder sister, but for those 

Drakanites that find themselves upon the wrong side of the law of Osrona, Emerson sat about doing 

what a showman such as himself was prone to do.

Make the show even bigger, of course.

Flyers were posted up along the Waystone, and letters and missives were sent to 

every corner of Esshar (not to the dreadwoods). The message was crystal clear.

“They claim they wish to save you when they beat you, and when they 

batter you. They claim their stars can offer you salvation in your hour of need - and yet picture this!

Instead of offering repentance and assistance to those they view as lesser? They 

hang them. The only saving grace those Drakanites witnessed was a firm knot of rope against their neck and a swift drop.

Instead of offering assistance to those with the occult, they work to kill them and 

hang them more than they aim towards any sort of merciful work!

This is the time to stand, people of Esshar. Not just for those poor souls who offered no true problem 

to the people at large and were merely inconveniences this so-called Dragonslayer wished to get rid of… No….

It’s time to stand up against every single wrong Osrona has committed within its vast, vast history. 

Today it’s Drakanites and my own sister - tomorrow is it what? Rhoynish? Those from Moxtli? 

Barsburgians? Perhaps… Even those few souls who call the Waystone their home?

Will you stand around and allow them to do as they’ve always done?

I call upon every single one within this land to raise arms against Osrona in one swift blow. To take out the cancer in 

Esshar that disallows worship outside of its own beliefs, and that claims they value mercy above all. When their mercy is nothing but death.”

It was crystal clear then and there, what the Forgemaster and Dragoon 

of the coat was doing. To distract the forces of Osrona with whatever attacks came their way…

As a small strike force descended within the city to reclaim not just Pandora, 

but any other helpless Drakanites held captive and soon to meet the Astor’s noose as well.

Yet… There was a single letter delivered directly to Osrona. Enchanted with runes upon 

opening, sound blasted from the paper directly in the face of it’s intended recipient, Acacio vey Astor, with a very clear message:

“I fucking hate you.”