Our Right to Choose | 155 BA.

[Andustar 4143]

Spoiler

 

 

 

R O Y A L  P R O C L A M A T I ON

O U R  R I G H T  T O  C H O O S E

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ISSUED BY

THE CROWN OF BALIAN

~

5th of Godfrey’s Triumph

155 BA | 2022 IT

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I do not want this present, and I want the future that is to come even less. A future in which the generations we swore to watch over with vigilance are bloodied against those they once called friends. Although I stand upon one side of the field, I see it all. The suffering wrought by a war of fratricide and apostasy. Brothers and sisters are set against one another; families are torn apart by the deaths and betrayals of loved ones, and the responsibility ultimately falls unto those of us who lead in these endeavours.  

 

There are many choices I reflect upon in hindsight. Perhaps if a different action - a different step along a different path - were taken, we might have avoided this conflict altogether. I know I am not the only man to regret it has come to this; a dear friend of mine thought much the same.

 

Last month, I received a letter from one Thorin Rostova, the late Crown-Prince of Ravenmire. In death, he appealed that I reconsider my stance for the sake of my family and my people. I will confess, doubt has often clung to my mind during these restless nights, for any who thinks war is a glorious exercise and that death in battle is the noblest end for men are insane. We were not fashioned to walk this earth for the purpose of waging war and spilling blood, and there has never been a mandate from the heavens above to rob families of their mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, children and grandchildren. Thorin's family did not deserve to be robbed of him, nor did he deserve death.

 

So, why do we find ourselves here, upon the battlefield? What barbarism compels us to make trophies of the dead, and hold a family culpable for the sins of their deceased relatives? It was not the purpose for which we now walk, but still we find ourselves here again and again, destined to repeat the same damned cycle of an eye for an eye. And those who wield the sword to put out those eyes claim it is for justice!

Justice is a concept many men purport to seek, and to uphold. Be it through the people’s mandate, or perhaps even that of the divine. So they say, and we often fail to think twice about the conviction of the supposedly honourable man. Of the insistently pious man, who announces himself as God-fearing and willing to humble himself before the altar. Yet, I have asked myself in recent days, what is true justice? 

 

Is it to pursue a quest for vengeance at any expense, forsaking all other honest duties? Is it to plot the demise of a people and culture, to right the years of shame your forefathers declared unjust? Is it to mislead good men with illusions of glory in conquest, so that their blood may be shed as the toll for such violence? 

 

Or, is it to seek a path through the darkness, unto a beacon of light, under which all of God’s children can stand in equal worth? Is it to uphold a dream through which we learn from the past and write a new chapter in which no one else needs to suffer what our forefathers previously endured? Is it to forgive rather than to hate - to seek friends where once there were enemies?

I say this unto you, my beloved subjects and people, because the choice has always been yours. There will always be those in life who preach answers to these questions we ask ourselves. They will tell you with certainty where you must focus your ire, and who you must blame for your misfortune and the world’s injustices. There are those who may believe them, and many people willingly leave themselves little choice in the matter, as if there is no other way. But among all of God’s gifts unto this world, it is the freedom to choose, whether right or wrong, that makes us truly human. 

 

Within each of us is the capacity to do good, and to do evil. Yet evil, under the skin, is simply the pain that we must confront and overcome. A poison designed to prey upon our fears, so we might sign away our hearts and our freedom. I have known many troubled souls in my relatively short life, and there is one similarity each of them share: They are afraid of their mistakes, to the point they would gladly let another choose for them if only to spare their fractured conscience. But I have found the truly righteous and courageous are willing to step forth and to learn from those mistakes. To sacrifice, endure and forgive. 

 

Good Thorin considered my stance to be foolish. He truly believed in his cause and that our surrender was the only true path to peace. Perhaps it will pain him even in the next life, but I have made my choice and my resolve is stubborn. I do not know what delusion grips those out there, who were our brothers and sisters, but I know in my heart that it is right to oppose them. Not for vengeance, but because there has been enough blood spilt on account of that desire. 

 

Whether alone or with a thousand men at my back, I will stand. I will fight. I will see the coming battles through. For our right to choose - for our humanity. Not for glory or domination, but to outlive the menace of tyranny. To defend our homes and to ensure a better world emerges from the carnage of the past, built upon a foundation of tolerance. After all, a desire for unity should not compel us to conquer.

 

And perhaps, either in life or death, my resolve will be proven a mistake. It is a chance I am willing to take, and to pay for.

 

Sons and daughters of Balian - you need not make the same mistake, should you feel your hearts compel you elsewhere. 

 

Do not look to me or to anyone else for answers; choose your own path.

AD GLORIAM DEI

HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, JOHN II, by the Grace of God, King of Balian, Prince of Providence, Duke of Helena, Lorraine and Reutov, Count of Pompourelia, Viscount of Eflen, Anatis and Valio, Baron of Renzfeld, Brucca, Valens, Malenos, Montcoure and Ciavola, Lord of Portoregne, Atrus and Monterosa, Warden of La Costa Rubinissima, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera.

[HIGH_FIRE 5490]

A young heir to Balianese nobility read upon what the King has said. Since the war she had been confined to her keep, away from her friends and with little more than study and siblings to keep her company. Many days she had questioned why this was necessary, however upon reading the missive she understood. Swiftly she sought for her mother, if justice needed a helping hand, surely hers could count for something.

[TaraJess 2848]

A quiet morning had been spent in the regiment yard with a pair of horses. Johanna perched upon the outdoor podium, simply watching the steeds in the paddock. When did her hands begin to tremble, and when would they stop? Was it not just the previous month where she stood in front of a blood thirsty mob and readied herself for death in the name of her people, her kingdom, her King? Those horses, she continued to watch. She would do it all again if she must.

[Navigator 4260]

Owyn Hector strengthened his grip upon his sword. He stared out from the walls of Portoregne, towards the fields and beaches, of which could very well turn red should the holy league's armies change their focus and destination. He was prepared to douse the sands and fields in the crimson tone of wretched blood. He would bring them the fire, damnation and death of his Exalted namesake.

[Phoebe202 1057]

Tears stained the cheeks of Alicent—Thorin’s daughter and John’s goddaughter—as she penned her own thoughts on the matter.

[VerumLupus 13]

Adrian: Upon a in depth read of this in one of his many passings in the area around Balian, he would hold a hand to his old chestplate and  give two beats to it, the clang of his gauntles over tthe chesplate sounding throughout his immediate area of the balian wilderness... He thought about the promise he made. He knew what he must do...

[Lalosia 988]

A certain little d'Arkent boy still seemed put out from being rudely awoken from his nap by the intruders into Portoregne.

"They took my spyglass." Peter said aloud to his kin for the umpteenth time since he had been returned to Sunholdt.

[Dair 82]

One known to many by his simple moniker, Sir Jean stood upon the square of Balian as the missive reached him. His doubts were many, silently they festered within his mind, but his sword is raised to defend his family and to fight for what he believes right. This simple thought he has lived by, and this simple thought shall push aside all doubt.

 

"Onto battle I follow the shadow of the Back Eagle. Ave Balian, Ave King John the Second."

 

He declared mainly to himself as he turned to make his preparations, and to see his wife and son.

[Werew0lf 24180]

"I know a lot about justice," spoke the goodly Saint Raguel, Archaengul of Justice. 

[__Stal27 2126]

Atop a warhorse sat the Prince of Monterosa, his hands secured against the reigns of his steed as he gazed at the stretched lands of Balian from atop an empty hill, he mused on the choice they were given, they choice he made.

"The weight of our Kingdom be ours to burden, the choice is made." 

[ratlordmagic 1484]

“I don’t know if fighting this war was the right choice.” Miroslaw Jazlowiecki said upon reading the King’s missive. “But I do know it was our only choice. GOD preserve us in this war, and forgive the misguided fools that started it.” 

[EmiliainWonderland 2309]

Isabel Rostova was still heartbroken. She didn't know how long that would last, but she could even see it lasting forever. A letter was penned, a letter soon to be sent to John from the grieving widow.

[Cheese 8882]

54 minutes ago, lalo said:

A certain little d'Arkent boy still seemed put out from being rudely awoken from his nap by the intruders into Portoregne.

"They took my spyglass." Peter said aloud to his kin for the umpteenth time since he had been returned to Sunholdt.

 

Peter's worried grandmother spent several days fussing over the boy, ensuring that he was not too traumatized by his capture. She had the gates and doors to her grand keep reinfornced promptly, all the while coddling Peter. "We shall get vy a new spyglass, love.." She assured.

 

That night, Esfir paced her study. Very rarely did she feel so angry as she did now, that a child-- a child of her lineage-- had been taken from his home and held hostage, just as she had been so many years ago. When she read her King's missive, a new conviction ignited within the aging Duchess's chest. "This is justice," Esfir swore to herself. No child deserved to be the victim of hers, least of all a child of Sunholdt. She, at least, had reaffirmed her choice.

[framalam 837]

"Many men break oaths in protection of their interests. Their licit, impious interests: alas, no rebuke can be made upon the king who errs; it is the priest who counsels him. Despite his oaths, and all that the good Justice Vuillier has made him swear, he has betrayed his Mother Church, and yet he holds honor. A true Vander, in all but faith, and all but oaths, and no Vander at all - no knight, no honorable person at all - but a father of his people. Odd, that morally he would be in the right to contest the unlawful war, yet simultaneously be morally correct to not punish those who partake in it. Odd, that he would pledge his men, and his own sword, to stopping the war, rather than ending it with one capture. Odd, odd, odd. SO odd!"  A crazed old rabbi of the True Faith scares quickly away the urchins who loitered around him, and all his charity. "Just capture the koeng and put him on trial Enrique. Lord be good." he sighs finally as the streetfolk disperse, and surely, somewhere, the blood of innocents is spilt in the name of righteousness and the Lord on either side of the schism-to-be.

[Monty Cobra 921]

Mons Avarson rested against a tree on the beach outside of Balian, listening to the quiet lap of waves against the shore. He rewrapped the bandages around his neck with hands that remained shaky from residual blood loss, his near-death experience weighing heavy on him. He had served Balian's army for how many years? How long ago had he been a fresh-faced lad first learning to wield a sword? How many injuries had he endured, battles had he fought, lives he had failed to save?

 

There's nothing to gain in war. But the only way to escape war is to end it, and the only way to end it is to fight. No amount of weariness in his bones, his heart, nor his spirit would stop Mons from fighting to secure a peaceful future— for his friends, for his kingdom, for his children.