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Of Debts Ignored; A Denunciation And Call For Justice From The Ministry For The Magi

Scribbe

Scribbe

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Of Debts Ignored
A Call for Justice​

I am Aeralaanys Rhylovhas, Secretary for the Magi, a leal servant of the Regalian State. On the battlefield of Merkar'sarh, I, alongside Joasaie Lloablen, slew the Silver Tear Paladin that had for so long been terrorising the armies of our Empire. In doing so, I sacrificed the usage of my right arm, the thousand year-old staff Callandor, and my own ability to use Magic. I returned to the Holy City a veteran of the Kathar War, glad to have been of assistance. Yet, before I could lay down in my own bed and rest, I was met with the news that in spite of my service and my sacrifice, the Gilded Templars would be seeking me out, at threat of severe punishment if evaded. Was this ingratitude of the people, or apathy from the ex-Kathar?

Some months have passed since that battle, and the most prominent members of the Daemon-borne scourge that dare thieve my birth tongue and name themselves the 'Manathar' have failed to commit a single act of attempted redemption, especially in their very leadership. These Gilded Templars are the recipients of a unique loan granted to them by the Regalian state; one that offers these once-Kathar the ability to live among us, in return for service. This loan is yet to see a single repayment. Indeed, my position may seem contrived, baseless; after all, why should the good people of Regalia engage in anything but trust in the cultists of the very Daemon that toppled the last vestiges of the lost Allorn Empire to allow the vile Dread Empire to flourish instead?

Instead, I must needs prove my stance to those who would doubt my convictions; fortunately, these mock-guards and false lawmen have been utterly careless in their attempts to circumvent the very law they spuriously say they keep, and these failures to maintain subtlety I shall list.

Acts Against the State
  • In the FORTY-THREE days since the Ministry for the Magi has opened its doors for aberrants to allow themselves to petition for special dispensation or even White Mage documentation should that apply, we have been approached by some thirteen aberrants willing to show their loyalty to the Empire. Of these ten aberrants, two were Manathar. Of these two Manathar, neither were members of the Gilded Templars; one wonders, if these Templars claim fealty to our great Empire, why have Azsh'alla Baal'ial, Valarosta Baal'ial, and Arwen'elda Tordove failed to make any contact with the Ministry?
  • In the FORTY-SEVEN days since the Vice-Secretary for Magi Vhilomir Kade approached the Gilded Templars seeking a comprehensive understanding of the innate racial abilities of these Manathar to maximise their usage and service to the Regalian state, the Gilded Templars have failed to make any contact with the Ministry; one ponders the significance of a race of Arken-followers who refuse to disclose their full potential to the State and its records.
  • In the past THIRTY days, reports have filtered in naming Arwen'elda Tordove, at one time a prominent Gilded Templar, as a criminal to the law and to the Unionist faith, engaging in no less than three accounts of property damage, muggery, assault, and blasphemy against the Imperial Spirit. Further, a report from one of the Ministry's trusted Mages named her as associating with Merith, a prominent Vampire leader in the city's underworld, as well as the ex-Templar's own associations with organised crime under her own leadership.
  • In the past THIRTY days, Gilded Templar Commander Azsh'alla Baal'ial has been sighted casting illegal magic, bearing illegal plate armour, engaging in illegal concealment of her identity. Not only are each of these counts utterly against laws that apply to the Regalian people, but also against the laws that dictate the rights of each Regalian charter.
    • Are the Gilded Templars not disallowed from casting any form of Magic outside of Old Town, when the Templar Commander was witnessed transforming into a colossal serpent in the wilderness? As well as this, are they not disallowed from casting outside the eye of an on-duty Ailor guardsman?
Conclusion
These acts against the Regalian state indicate, despite the trust held in the Templars, and despite the charity of the State to allow a Kathar Void cult transformed into some other hellish form of Arkenite lackey to live among the Regalian people, that the Gilded Templars share no such faith, nor trust, nor willingness to cooperate with the mechanisms of the State, and I have held my tongue for a time far too lengthy.

As such, I call on the other authorities of the Holy City and the Empire at large to respond to these Daemonlings and their farcical attempts at justifying their place among the good people of Regalia. These snakes in our midst violate the laws they claim they keep, and though my illegalisation of their innate racial abilities have caused unrest among their population, my jurisdiction does not spread far enough to truly enact punishment against them for their crimes against the Empire.
  • To the Violet Order, I call upon you to punish these treacherous lawbreakers and dissolve their Charter, for the Templars have been wilfully ignorant, or worse, complicit in the failure to report these crimes.
    • To the Chapters of the Violet Order, I ask that you do what the Templars themselves are unable to, and properly enforce the law against these Daemonlings who would sully the image of your Order in service of their own power and self-gain.
  • To the Lord Chancellor, I call upon you to make good on your labelling of the Manathar as 'state slaves' and demote these Daemonlings to None Civil Status for their flagrant disrespect for our Ministries.
  • To the people of Regalia, I call upon you to ostracise these Gilded Templars and any Manathar who wilfully associates themselves with their number; I am an Elf of great age, and I have seen much of Aloria's history. The catastrophic effects of Arken-following Nelfin assuming positions of power and control in Empires are all too familiar to me. This must not happen again.
Aeralaanys Tyeuse Rhylovhas
Secretary for the Magi
Servant of the Regalian Empire
​
 
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Pawel thinks back to the Manathar who claimed his sanctity as a reverend was false and smiled "Oratario Ode"
 
"So anyways," Vala murmured as she tossed the paper into the fire, turning back to the war table to pour over the details for the upcoming battle. Unlike the desk jockey, she was actually doing her job.
 
Milena du BrierĆ¼st reads over the page with a sigh, pinching at the bridge of her nose. "Would this be.. the first headline? Second? Oh, Spirit. I don't know."

She passes it over to her cousin, then, waving her hand for him to read it over himself. @Fergoff
 
Joasaie, having only read it because her name was mentioned, sighed softly before setting the paper aside, "Maybe they haven't tried for a meeting because it's harder than Blacksteel to get such with you, Asher. Not everyone has patience."
 
Genevieve sat at her breakfast table, although the time being much closer to lunch, reading her personal correspondence and news. Once her sleepy eyes lit upon the above piece, she'd perked up considerably.

"Oh. Come read this, Corlaggan!" Beckoning her ladies maid closer, wriggling the cheap paper across the table.

"Look! Elves and manathar are fighting. It's a bit like watching two drunk squirrels arguing over an acorn. You know, when they're all fat and can't stand up straight?" She laughs again, setting the news down and reaching for her now lukewarm cup of tea.

"Still," she muses, a gleam in her eye, "not a thing was said about that rampaging mage from the other night. All that damage to people's homes and the threat of imminent death to both the Margrave and myself. You'd think someone would care. Hmm"

Setting her cup down with alacrity, she calls out with an energetic decisiveness.

"Corlaggan! Get out my new bonnet, won't you? No point in making a fuss if you don't look good doing it."
 
The Avalorn Duchess tapped her fingers idly against the arm of her chair, raising the copy of the paper delivered her to squint at it. A gloved hand traced a few words, firelight glinting off her Ring of Talea, and she began to chuckle under her breath, setting the thing down. Speaking to herself more than anything, she stared ahead with disbelief for a few moments, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "So he actually did it." She poked at herself for a moment, then pulling up the order to look at its contents again. "Arkenite lackey. You never change, do you." Glancing around the room, she began to address whatever of her followers had remained with her after the day of work and stayed for tea and the winding down of the sun. "We have ourselves a living, breathing political affair. Knowledge of the Manathar was mostly contained to the capital before. But this is an Empire-wide announcement, coming from a central figure of government."

"How will the Anglians, the Etosians, the Daendroque, to say nothing of the Darkwalds or the Knightly Orders, react to the revelation that these Manathar are a real presence? The Synod's announcement that suggested a 'Rite of the Xenophane' for a short time must have been somewhat locally contained. Only transmitted to the Reverends of this city, because there are no Manathar beyond here. But this - this. Anything the Secretary of the Magi publishes must be transmitted on a national level, mustn't it?" She finished her point with an eyebrow raised, fingers of her right hand curled upwards in question. Panning her gaze left and right again, the Duchess cleared her throat and continued, voice a tone hoarser but quick with the excitement of fresh revelation. "Will they demand explication? Will they demand removal, if explication is not necessary or has already been had, unbeknownst to us? Will they even care? I am sure that shortly we will find out just what all this means. And, before you tell me that this will be local just like the Synod - he made sure to write this in." She raised a black satin finger to tap twice at a small phrase, outlining it with a slow circling. " 'As such, I call on the other authorities of the Holy City and the Empire at large..' .. The Empire at large. This little sentence means that this document is going everywhere, to everyone."

She motioned forward to the faithful gardener, rifling through the stack of papers next to hers and lifting out a rather thick pamphlet with a title in Middle Altalar: 'The Scalay Prince's Guide To Avoiding Political Assassinations'. "Bel, could you be a dear and get this to the Secretary? I have a feeling that he will be wanting of it before too long, and I am not going to do anything to protect him given his past disposition. Do tell him good luck, though. I do wish him that, at least."
 
Xilthruum the Lich peeled through the printed publication with their apathetic and fiery eyes. However, as they reached the laundry list of details explaining what has happened behind closed curtains, the lich leaned forward on the edge of their seat. "That's not good," they said, a flood of memories suddenly clouding their mind of all the times they've cooperated with the many Manathar of the city. For the first time in a while, they felt a twinge of concern for people who were more than just pawns.

"Looks like I have something new to do today," grumbled the skeletal scholar as he slid out of his chair and hovered toward the door, evidently on a mission to find the victims of this besmirching campaign.
 
Gwenyth tapped a finger over the corner of the parchment. The kaffee in her cup ran cold, a bitter reminder when she lifted it to drink, only to place it down in respite. "Do you remember that spiel I told you before?" she asked. Her eyes fell over the words, until one lingered as center point of her vision. "The Thunder Bird once foretold of a day of reckoning. 'Judgement.' And now, with Hellfire boiling, threatening to appear..." Gwenyth huffed, then sent her sights out the window, and beyond, to the stream of clouds in the farthest part of the horizon. "The fields beneath our feet may burn, too. We should be careful." @LumosJared
 
Leonard Underwood was glad someone was aware of the Manathar threat and was speaking out. Of course, he couldn't because of the guard breathing down his neck, but silently he cheered Rhylovhas on in this struggle.
 
Levay Quicedo read over this notice, a small smirk forming on his face. The eyes behind his sunglasses flashed in interest.
 
MantaRey said:
Gwenyth tapped a finger over the corner of the parchment.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

The buzz of talk and scraping boots echoed in through the open windows, as the Kade paced by their balcony. "Careful, but not frightened. It's not our own fields that are in danger, not with us yet standing at any rate." He glanced Gwenyth's way as she stared out the window. "If anyone is to bring about true Judgement, it's us. Take heart now, we've got plenty to do without worrying about their lot". The Kade finished his pacing, strapping his scimitars across his hip as he prepared to head into the bustling city, to react to the days news.
 
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Gwelurin Vaell'aer, after reading the paper, would throw it into the fireplace of her home in the Realm. She would watch as the fire consumed the paper in as little as ten seconds. Gone. Nothing but ash now. She would look to her twin sister, who was laying on the couch, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"You know Norin, for a man who can only use one arm, he likes to talk a lot of shit, huh?"

​
@StevenWeen
 
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Azsh'alla Baal'ial read over the statement, humming quietly after receiving both this and the lord commander's notice. She chuckled at a bit of the commentary, monologuing "It's almost as if the Secretary is a righteous cunt who wouldn't approve us a white-mages anyways." She tapped her temple quietly "The lord commander set him in his place like the dog he's always been, even when he stood equally an unlawful leader of a vigilant altalar gang using illegal magics, a dog. I see no fit reason to truly respond unless he continues to act up--Put this in my archive if you would?" she offered the paper to her squire, leaning back in her chair. "Every day I can't tell if this existence is cursed. Hmm." She muttered, before returning to her documentation list of the aberrant registry.
 
Azra slapped her own public note against the bottom of the proclamation, stuck on with a tack.

It read:

"To the Secretary of the Magi,

While you're complaining about the Manathar not becoming white mages, why don't you acknowledge all the people that are fucking trying? At the very least have the damn decency to send a letter that says you got their request.

Sincerely,
An Aberrant of Regalia"​
 
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"It costs nothing to repeat the words of the majority. It costs us everything to stand alone."

Andrathath Vaell'aer sniffled before wiping his crimson colored nose, taking the notice to heart.

His watered eyes blurred out the stars from his field of vision as he peered to the nights sky, his fists clenched with passionate rage and dejection. ​

"Embracing the discomfort does not motivate us to try harder, it inspires us to."​
 
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