[Archived]A plight to the common man.

[Gallic 1066]

But when the sky darkens and the prospect is war,

Who's given a blade and then pushed to the fore,

And expected to die for the land of our birth,

When we've never owned one handful of earth?

 

~ ~ ~

The world is once again falling into a great age of turmoil. The roads are rife with banditry and evil; Every nation preying on each other’s weaknesses, darkness gaining foothold after foothold, undead, beasts and pirates alike spawning like a plague of rats… Soon war will come; You can see it too, if only you'd look to the letters and declarations being sent overhead. Look to the nations bolstering their number for war and the rampant nationalism growing increasingly violent. I don’t know where it began, be it with elves, dwarves, orcs or man, but those in power have begun to waive the will of their people; The good people, the common people, who are chained to this machine without the means to voice their plight.

 

I have been to each corner of the world and the depths of its many shadows; I have seen the war machines behind the curtain. Despite this all, many persist in hopeful ignorance of the rallying around them.

 

Please, be wary. Many of you are truly good souls, who are being pushed toward a very dark horizon that I have forseen. When war comes, if you wish for a place of peace; Ballymun’s gate will be open to refugees, regardless of creed or nation, in the impending conflicts. Children of the land, orphans; There are kind folks here who will care for you. If any soul needs shelter now or later, we will welcome you.

 

To those Gallics still wandering, who read this letter, now has come the time to unite. I am Gwion Gallic, son of Amber. I am the newest Seer of our clan; I will guide you and keep you, and I know you’re out there. I have dreamt of a darkness, and our blood must be kept safe. There is shelter here.

 

Man should not battle man, for there are far greater forces at play to unite against. Blood is blood, no matter who's heart beats with it.

~ ~ ~

 

We're the first ones to starve the first ones to die,

The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky,

And always the last when the cream is shared out,

For the worker is working when the fat cat's about.

[Quavinir_Twiceborn 1050]

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