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The Army of Filth

These flyers are scattered around Lower Sanctuary by a young girl with red hair, whose plain cloak bears the drawing of the Sun.

Brothers and sisters,

Our blood claimed the Canal, and they took it by force.

Our blood cleared the streets of their guards and their Tigereyes, and now they try to take it again.

RESIST!

No man has the right to attack physically another man for any purpose other than self-defense. And we cannot attack the men of Upper, for at their beck and call there are the machines of the Spelltyrants, and the men of Azzam, the dictator.

But we must resist!

We call upon the Army of Filth. Whenever a man of Upper comes down here dressed in gold, to peddle his wares while men starve to death not a yard away, PELT THEM WITH ROTTEN FRUIT AND ROTHE DUNG.

Whenever a Watchman comes down here to enforce their law on our people, PELT THEM WITH ROTTEN FRUIT AND ROTHE DUNG.

Whenever they come down here to claim our business and meddle in the lives of our working men, who need no help from them, PELT THEM WITH ROTTEN FRUIT AND ROTHE DUNG.

Why?

Because of Ubel and Lysik, certainly. Because of Fred Bresley. But not only them. Because of what they represented, and what Lower still represents - only in misery can men realize that this is not our place.

Because they are hateful men, the men of Upper - men of no hope! Because each fruit shall be answered with a sword, and then we shall have every reason in the world to respond in kind.

Each Uppersman who makes his home and his business down here helps us forget that the Way lies only in the Surface. Do not let them take Lower. Our misery reminds us of who we are. Together, we shall strive and succeed, without having to sell ourselves out!

RESIST!

More such flyers are scattered about. One is tacked to the door of the Old Tigereye Fortress. The same young redhead is seen doing this.

MANDATES OF FILTH

Specific people who deserve to be pelted with rotten fruit and rothe dung, so that they can be reminded of where they are, and what we are:

ALLIVARN FIREHEART, PRIEST OF COIN

This man thinks to come down here and peddle his wares without giving the people of Lower their due for the business he peacefully conducts on our ward. He brings guards down to intimidate the common man, his prices undercut those of our merchants and he claims to sell 'Magical Wares' while he is, in fact, a simple peddler of second-hand goods.

Pelt this man with the filth of our soil so that he will be reminded that this is Lower, and that no men of Upper shall touch our trade without dirtying themselves utterly.