A certain halfling could not but stand amidst the burning wreckage, fists clenched as an empty and used medical satchel sat at her feet. She cared not for the flames, the colors pleased her eye. She cared not for the screaming trees, they had not her pity. She cared not as Elysium burned, it had ceased to be her home long ago...
But she listened to the cries and screams of the children, her children of whom she stitched back together, of whom had innocently been caught in the crossfire... She cared not for any country or kingdom, only the people she held close.
And she was angry. Nothing less than wrath overcame the small figure's form... But what was one halfling to do? And so she began to write.
[!] All across almaris were fliers, strewn upon noticeboards and roads alike.
“People of Almaris! A thought has stricken my mind.
Our attackers spin lies into fantastical tales, woven into tapestries that depict Elysium as stuck up and unrighteous, and themselves as saviors, bringers of freedom.
Freedom is a strange name for terror, bloodshed and war.
They attack this city, time and time again. They claim to never harm a child, yet time and time again I stitch my children back together like broken dolls. Hear me, Almaris. I want my children unharmed.
As much as I wish to hate them, I can't help but wonder... What is their perspective? I never attempted to get their side of the story.
I remember in my youth, when I served in the Elysian army. I wrote a missive then, too, and I don’t regret it one bit. I wrote how I was ignored, scorned, and swept under the rug. I sent it out and the same people scorned me, they jumped to conclusions without once asking for my perspective. But I watched this kingdom grow and evolve, and treat me like an equal. And they began to search for the second perspective.
Elysium is not perfect. No nation is. Many a man harbors hate and rage to this kingdom, some for understandable reasons and some without. But I do not call to request you fight with us, or against anyone.
I ask those who come upon my message to do nothing but imagine, to see through our eyes. Through the eyes of the innocent, the bloody-handed, and those who may have kindled the flame.
For in the end, we all have but one perspective. Our own.
Please, tell me of your own perspective, children of Krug and of Elysium alike, all and any affected by this war. Listen, read, tell and write. I can only hope that I may change the hearts of a few people who fight against us.”