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A Rebellion in Regalia
Written by Cornelia Baumgartner
Published by The Directory
Written by Cornelia Baumgartner
Published by The Directory
A metaphorical depiction of loyal citizens and soldiers of the Commonwealth overlooking the Allorn Empire, 310 AC.
It was that red-haired elf who continued, "First, we pursued atheism. It was easily done with our subversions and tact. To think the Confessions of Mellenar could be used for such an advantage? Poor foolish cleric, perhaps he thought he did more good for his false god than ours." All the Celate could do was wonder about the past. But not one word was spoken up about the rebels.
As the rebels left the building, excited, one piped up. "To think atheism is the law of the land in the center of holiness, it is quite amusing to me." Another still remarked, "Oh yes, and yet our gods grow stronger. Soon enough, we shall take back the land that was ours. We raised an army of unwilling slaves who are afraid to stand up to us." As they passed Greygate, the chatter continued, with guards tense about saluting the tallest of the rebels, the red-haired elf. But not one word was spoken about the rebels.
They continued down the road longer, heading onto the steps of the Golden Willow. Not once did the rebels lower their tone. The rebels sat down at the largest of the tables, loudly drinking and eating without so much as a tip. A parade of soldiers went by across from the tavern and entered. They paid for their drinks and tipped generously. When they turned to their seats, the rebels cursed them out, for no men with swords or weapons were going to stay. "Curse yourselves, soldiers! Pesky men and women. Curse yourselves for killing our brothers in the west! Curse yourselves for not supporting the Jacobin cause!" The rebels dragged the soldiers out of the tavern, but the laws of man had worn down their tongues. They wanted to say anything to prevent these injustices! But not one word was spoken up about the rebels.
The red haired elf once again spoke to his table after the soldiers ran out, "Our gods are strong, and soon these pesky Ailor scum will be rid of." He paused briefly before looking at a rebellious Minister, " Not you, of course, friend of mine. For Ailor, who subverted the state, will rise again with us, marrying our spawn so they may no longer exist. Minister, with you with us, a republic shall rise out of the ashes of Unionist Supremacy and this evil Empire. A glorious Republic that will reunite with our Allorn brothers! Glory to the Allorn!" The common passersby gawked at the conversation as it continued; slander against the Emperor, the state, about foreign demons they worshipped. The rebels continued to chant 'Glory to the Allorn' throughout the night as men and women walked in and out of the tavern. But not one word was spoken up about the rebels.