Speech On The Assault Upon Shadowcastle

[Fid 566]

A silence grows in the main square as three Elves ascend to a raised speaking platform; people cease their business and turn to watch the odd procession. Many watch the Lumi'drim with a quiet pride, some with an open and marked disdain. One hooded individual spits at the feet of one of the attending soldiers before replacing his cactus-green joint to his lips, but the shining Sentinel simply walks on.

 

Finally, the three elves reach the platform and halt, allowing the populace to gaze upon them for the first time. Those familiar with the Lumi'drim would discern Eleron Sylvari, grey eyes shining with a feverish intensity beneath his silver helm. To his right stands the ominous Mali’ker Lion, whose dark, bloody, and dented helmet gleams in the morning light. To the Warden's left is his brother Cyndaer, who holds an ornate silver spear which matches his silvery armour.

 

Noting that the attention of the citizenry is sufficiently captured, the central elf removes his helm and tucks it beneath his arm, stepping forward.

 

  “Karin'ayla, brothers and sisters.”   he begins in a pleasant, ringing tone that commands the attention of all attending. “Many of you I know personally, some I know but a little, and a few I know not at all... and for such I shall introduce myself.” The tall elf-lord smiles calmly. “I am Eleron Sylvari, and I am your new March Warden. I have been graciously granted the position by my brother Cyndaer, who wishes to retire from the military.” he smiles, and a few Elves clap respectfully. “And, as the position of ‘Arbiter’ is also vacant, it has been granted to Master Lion.”

 

Eleron stops here, taking a deep breath. It seems almost as if he is preparing for a plunge… and when he speaks again it is in a solemn tone.

 

“As pleased as I am to be able to serve you, my friends... I am afraid that the celebrations must bear a somber tone... for the High Council has deemed it necessary that the Lumi'drim march to war, as has not been done in all the long years since we came to this ancient continent of Anthos.”

 

A murmur runs through the crowd, the assembled elves shifting as the grave meaning of Eleron's words sinks in. The tall elf himself nods calmly, as if the reaction of the crowd perfectly circumscribed his own. Finally, he raises his hand, and the elves grow quiet, their attention firmly captured by the incredible announcement.

 

“It is rare for Elves to go to war.” he says firmly, as if it was an eternal truth. “It is rarer still for our people to do so with a song upon their lips and pride in their hearts. War and fighting are seldom called for in our nature, we thrive in silence, balance, and peace above all things... but the rules change when that balance is threatened. In our day and age, oppression and dissent are rampant...”

 

“I do not speak only of oppression by humans, as we experienced when the White Roses were still in power! I speak of oppression of of a different kind... of Elves by Elves. Of our mali'aheral, our forest-kin, and of our darker brethren. We have grown complacent and prejudiced, we have grown apart... and perhaps it is in our natures to do so. We chafe with one another. Some of those assembled here dislike the Lumid'rim, many are disgusted by the laws we pass in an effort to make the streets safer.”

 

“And we Lumi'drim are not blameless in this.” he shakes his silver head, closing his eyes sadly. “None of us are, truly... and that is a farce of grandiose proportions.” he smiles, a little sadly. “In days past I would have argued, I would have fought... but there comes a time when it does not matter if you wear a silver badge upon your breast, or if you are a simple elf or an ailer.”

 

“Now... now is such a time, brothers and sisters. Our Princedom is besieged with the greatest threat since the Great Anthosian War, when Oren reared it's ugly head and roared! The greatest threat to Anthos is not in the far reaches of our world,” he cries, gesturing North. “It is here, watching our borders with a predatory grin and waiting for us to weaken, to falter! Together, a united Anthos may destroy the Abberants with ease... but there is a problem. The Carrions,” he spits the name, as if it disgusts him, “those honor-less humans who hold sway in Abresi.”

 

“It has been said, many times, that the Carrions wish to see all Elvendom swept from the face of Anthos, so that our culture and people are known no more... They wish to cleanse an inferior race from the face of Anthos?” he smirks, “Let us honour and further that wish! Let us cast these 'Strelts' into the abyss from which there is no return... Let us burn their foul slaughterhouses and tear down their cold grey castles, and may we see Anthos smile again!”

 

“The Old Orenian Revolution is spreading in the south. Brave, grim men march upon the strongholds of the faithless, their hearts set upon reclaiming what is theirs. The Houses Tarus and Silverblade, Elf-friends of old, have started a fire which shall burn the Carrions where they stand... and it is the intention of the Princedom to see these men succeed. And so... the Elves march to war.”

 

Here, the elf pauses again, placing a hand over his heart and gazing down upon the countless upturned faces. “We come now to a new era, citizens of Malinor, an era during which the fate of our Shining Princedom shall once again be thrown in jeopardy. It will be an era of bravery and honour, but also one of fear and despair. It is a foolish heart that knows no fear, my friends, and mine is no exception.”

 

“And what is fear? It is a natural will to survive, when faced with daunting, seemingly insurmountable odds... and in every Elvish heart there is doubt. There is fear, there is despair, and there is doubt... but there is bravery also. A will to survive and persevere. A pride in our nation, our people!”

 

Here the Warden pauses, allowing a silence to grow and swell around the crowd. With a soft smile, he gestures to the great green trees that shelter from the wind and sun. “There is a love, too... for the forests, rivers, and lakes with which we are blessed. This great land has been granted to us by providence, and together, united, we must protect it.”

 

“So I call upon you, citizens of Malinor! Yes, you! Be you Mali'ker or Mali'Ame, pure or half-blood... I beg you, answer the call! For no matter the sincerity of my conviction, no matter the strength in my arm or the fury in my heart, I am but one elf. The Princess Titania is but one elf. Together, my bretheren, we find our true strength. In each other.”

 

“Join the ranks of the Lumi'drim if you have a strong arm and a brave heart, or sign up to build fortifications with Prince Ebs and his Restoration Corps!” he grins, raising a hand in greeting to the Prince, who is probably somewhere in the crowd. “Unite! Cast aside your differences, and we may surmount all obstacles. Unite, Malinor, for united, we can accomplish anything.”

 

[Evilbanana5757 154]

The Bird Druid looks upon the man, pondering for a moment. At first, he wishes to call out, to try to stop to war. To stop the madness. But as he gazes over the crowd, seeing the eyes of all his elven brethren, he remembers the evils committed by the humans. He remembers all the wrongs they have done to him and his elven kind over the centuries. For a moment he muses, "House Carrion, the human carrion... the human crows.... how hilarious..." He realizes that it is finally time to act. And so, instead of calling out for an end to the bloodshed, he simply smiles and calls out,

 

"Death to Carrion, my friends. Death to Carrion!"

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.