A Vision

[Dry Crackers 268]

Accompanying the letters which have been posted about the city of Elves [[ http://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/112674-letter-to-malins-people/ ]] comes an essay.  It runs as follows:

 

The Utopia

Being the false Image of an ideal Society.

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Far away in the distant past was a city, gathered about a mountain.  Great white spires scratched the sky, thrown aloft from the crest of the mountain.  About the flanks of the mighty hill were arrayed houses of stone and wood, sturdy and impervious all.  There were markets, manufactories, places of commerce, even excellent plumbing.  The walls about these lower sections were thick and shined in the sunlight which sent colored patterns from the great panes of stained glass dancing across the library floor.  Banners snapped in the crisp breeze, flying from high towers and spires.  Trees and flowers grew about the boulevards.  A busy and industrious people went about their daily routines there.

 

About the peak of the mountain resided a great community of learned men sought the secrets of the universe through the natural and arcane Sciences.  Here resided the ruler of the city.  A man who knew all were indebted to him, who knew his own power, who knew what was best for his people in every aspect, who knew how to guarantee long life and prosperity, and insure the survival of his people.  About the flanks were arrayed more everyday citizens.  Here were the products of farms and factories created, traded, and consumed.  Somehow the city's economy was scraping by with no foriegn goods, traders, or people dubbed 'unsanitary' admitted by the men who stood watch over the gates.  And yet this everyday bustle continued, but was curiously restrained.  No shopkeeper's boy yelled to the passers-by on the leafy avenues, no pedestrian upon those roads spoke more than necessary.  The speaking-noise of a busy city was strangely absent.  Perhaps it was for the stalwart men, who stood in burnished armor and crisp uniforms, upon every corner with a spear and a lantern, who gave grim fierce-eyed glares to all who walked within their sight.

 

Even in privacy the residents of this metropolis were quiet.  They conversed about their sitting-rooms in hushed tones.  They did not offer pleasantries as they went about their business, or met some acquaintance in the street.  In fact they refrained from the tipping of hats, the bows and nods by which one greets a familiar face.  To see them you would think they did not know the others who walked about them.

 

But there was a reason for this silence, this careful restraint.  For who knew behind which door lurked an agent of Government, about what corner stood a grim man, cloaked in secrecy, armored in all the authority of the regime he served, armed with a warrant outlining his limitless powers and a long knife.

 

If some resident was to suddenly be seen no longer by those who knew him, the acid was not spoken of.  The men in black armor, bearing the badges of an oppressive regime, were not so much as mentioned in passing.  Citizens avoided those offices labeled 'Information' and 'Police.'

 

Upon the lowest slope of the mighty hill resided a formerly mighty organization brought to its knees by a warmongering tyrant.  Relegated to menial adaptation of their once-noble mission, they preserved the grounds of the other areas, who would not engage them for their status.  Even there, life was subdued, quiet, watchful.  Upon their rounds they walked with care, for the bright-armored men who stood guard were none too quick with a blow or a spiteful word--muttered, of course, for swearing or simply employing hateful language in public was outlawed.

 

Upon the crest of the mountain the ruler looked out upon his city.  He was of the race of the scientists who spent their days in study about his fortress, and as he knew his power was absolute, his goals and aims and cultural traditions were used to squash the native ethic of those he ruled, whomever they might be.  Behind him squabbled a council, all too happy to fight over what scraps of profit he let them have instead of challenge him.  For indeed, they knew that one order, one mark of a quill upon the blank warrant, and they even they would be easily replaced.  He had built a city.  He had regulated it.  Regulated yet again, such that reproduction was controlled, speaking against the ethic of his people was expressly forbidden.  And now it was chained, held down by rules, regulations, laws and oppressive legal proceedings, while the great black forearm of his Agents, the secret police who kept the order, pressed upon its throat. 
 

This is the utopia, shining in the sunlight, stone and bright blue roofs upon a mountain.  It is very much an attainable goal, and to look at it you might fancy living there.  Do not be fooled.

[Supremacy 3361]

Kalenz' eyes flick along the parchment as he reads the propoganda from the inn. After scoffing he turns to Cerriren and after a short moment of riotous chortling he mutters "This description of a utopia within this fellow's text sounds all kinds of delightful! A society where none may swear and all respect the law without question or hesitation? Why I would like to found such a society this instant! If only all elves could be so well restrained."

[MrJoshy 130]

Ceriren, resolute as always turns her head to the Sohaer with a flat nod of lighting eyes. She assures him. With a quick adjustment of her blade, she licks her lips, and returns to the stance that she has taken alongside Kalenz, before scoffing as she reads the paper herself. A light chuckle and a light smile come to her lips.

[Narthok 10416]

Gabriel frowns as he reads the parchment.. this society seems opressive, i'm not sure the Mali'fenn would enjoy such a rigid environment.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

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