A curious publication circulates through the streets of Osrona. It’s no more than a leaflet, distributed by hands that have their palms liberally greased with coin. It starts its way among the common folk, the people outside of the city’s precious, alabaster walls. Then, like a plague, its passages start to appear inside among the upper echelons of society.
![[Image: 86d48ce42a44e5bca4af02876a4b22ed.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/646418635300143105/672963715775201310/86d48ce42a44e5bca4af02876a4b22ed.png)
A festival held for Asatan, a spirit of life and freedom. A time for peace and celebration. Yet the First Light could not leave well enough alone. In these dark times they have naught better to do than heckle and tarnish what little comfort we have. To revel in their excess is not enough.
A festival held for Asatan, a spirit of life and freedom. A time for peace and celebration. Yet the First Light could not leave well enough alone. In these dark times they have naught better to do than heckle and tarnish what little comfort we have. To revel in their excess is not enough.
The Rhoynish organizer sought only to honor his native culture. Exarch Eustace had nothing better to do than insult his honor and beat him; never once did the beaten man retaliate. Knights and nobles looked on. None raised a hand.
The Order does not defend us. It does not care for us. It binds and controls us. Nothing more. We are tools for their amusement and convenience.
Why suffer their yoke? Does comfort keep you under their heel? Safety? False promises?
Cast off their chains. Take your bonds and use them. Pull down those that hold you back. We're calling to you, brothers and sisters.
Our eyes are watching. Always.
Our eyes are watching. Always.