"The People's Man"

[Sunburst]

This is Doctor Lunaris. A well-known man, named Dante Moretti, said to be "the People's Man," has decided to offer his support to my research by investing a good amount of dinari.

This funding, given by the People's Man, will be used to increase our knowledge on addictions. Thanks to Dante Moretti, I will offer twenty dinari to anyone who answer a survey I prepared to help with my research.

There is still good people in this world.

[Sunburst]

This morning, Warad has smiled upon his humble servant, this simple merchant.

Long have I hoped to make a home here in this beautiful Well and, today, Dante Moretti has given my business the boost it needed! Needed to have bread, to have water, to have hope! Thank you, Dante Moretti!

[Sunburst]

From the depths of my watery heart, I give the deepest thanks to our honoured Legate, Dante Moretti, "the People's Man!" For providing potent wards and enchantments to our adventuring party, he is a lifeline in tumultuous waters.

His support is vital as water to parched land...

And just as refreshing!

[Sunburst]

Dear Ephia's Well, I have a confession to make!

When I came to you, I was broke.

With a deck scavenged from cards abandoned in the trash, I'd been fortune telling my way through the 69 Stops of the Giant's Road, subsisting on worm soup or worse, and sleeping under wagon wheels if I could find 'em.

But my luck changed soon after I crossed your gates.

A man believed in me, and paid for an inn room so I could live with dignity, instead of huddling in the gutters, in a tiny studio niche.

That man is Dante Moretti, the Man of the People. And now he's once again shown his willingness to believe in the dreams of the downtrodden, investing in the new company my friend Sally Santoro and I will be starting.

Santari Dynamics.

I can't think of anything that speaks as to the spirit of charity and industry that this wonderful city stands for. Live and drink, friends!

And now a word from my partner, Sally.

My ma's dying last words up in the caravan camp were: "Sally, you find Dante Moretti. The Man of the People. Make a name for yourself in Ephia's Well. But more importantly, find Dante. If you ever think of a wonderful enterprise, he will aid you, for he is a Man who believes in the People."

Today is that day, Ephians. Santari Dynamics will bring the entertainment industry in Ephia's Well to new heights.

And if you're out there, Ma. Listen well. I found him. I found Dante Moretti, the Man of the People. I found him.

[Sobbing noises?]

[Sunburst]

Now speaks, VOICED CITIZEN, Ulfgrim, son of Grimgar! Thanks and praise to Dante Moretti, the People's Man, for recognizing my courage and sacrifice; my own, and that of the Duunthall, in this war upon the orcs!

[Sunburst]

Those of you who are pledged to the League of White, those of you without a Voice, downtrodden, a boot upon your neck, or otherwise, are all invited to the Krak des Roses to discuss our future in this citadel.

...

...

A lovely discussion, open and public, where the Voiceless were able to tell the Legate Dante of the Gold League why they are angry, why they are upset. One woman even accused that her words meant nothing to him! But they are heard, so loudly and boldly spoken. Where are the funds for the People that were stolen for some foreign district of machines and otherwise? Where is their refuge in the Shade from this terrible Ash?

The answer of the Gold Legate?

He claimed it all to be nonsense, that we are confused. He claimed that they should just join the Gold League, as they were valued there. Do you feel valued, where you are?

It is nonsense. Every one of these demands for the corporate district to be "built faster" is a fit of confused hysteria over a situation that is intentionally being distorted and misrepresented by the League of White.

The money is in place. We do not lack for funds. We face a problem of priority, as our material and manpower is committed to a war that we must win if mankind is to persist in Ephia's Well at all.

Throughout this year, we have been locked in deadly, all-consuming battle with an existential threat.

Our able-bodied men...

Our material resources of metal, stone, and wood...

Our magical reagents for extending the Shade of the Giants...

All of this, we must commit to war.

Some of you are emboldened by the Drifter's Stockade, pointing to it as an example of what can be achieved. You are wrong to. While I applaud the charity work of the Sibylline Sisterhood, and the dedicated effort they have put into feeding the poor, that Stockade is a crumbling ruin, one of many. They have not renovated the abandoned building they have taken up in. They have not raised up new walls. They have not laid pipes for plumbing, or started fountains for drinking.

They have inhabited a structure, with little more than a dream of doing good. They have done all they can with it. They have spared just one Recluta and one Acolyte to staff it, and cannot give much more, because the amassed force of the Banda Rossa's soldiers fight, burn, and die in the Scalding right now, as we speak.

The kindest of speeches, Legate. Deflection is a fine tool for the initiated of the Voiced system, but one that the People surely do not admire. The White League, admittedly at the lead of the Sisters, built a refuge. A small step forward. But far greater a step than offered by the League of Gold, which left the People out in the Ash, with the law of the Sultan preventing them from setting camp or resting within the city walls, as is written at the Gate of Roses.

Yet still, towers of Gold cast a shadow upon their dreams. The merchant halls of the Souk piss down waste upon the Stockade. I imagine your own pockets are so deep that you could pay for those renovations personally, yet here we are, and the People are housed like rabid dogs while you feast, and while you beg of them to join in your steps, relentless for their votes.

A chip of the stone is nearly free, Legate. They hear you. They see you. They see your worth.

The Cinquefoil Rose, which voted Purple in the most recent election, inhabited an abandoned building and set up a serviceable counter for a charitable soup kitchen. They did this. Not the League of White.

Worse for you, revolutionary, is that the great achievement of the Rose, in all this, is not the furniture they wheeled into the Ash-bitten barrows, but the haoma; the manna that they are distributing. And that haoma only exists to feed these people at all because the League of Gold provided the grain that Sisterhood needed, to diffuse it into this cheap meal.

You have jumped into circumstances you do not understand, and wave a torch of ignorance as though its imaginary light ought to inspire.

You are not a statesman. You do not work in our government. You squeal that, because we are busy fighting for our lives, we have somehow failed the people we are fighting to save. Whether it is because you do not know better, or instead because you enjoy cosplaying as a Seeker-After-Death, it does not matter.

You are, in the righteousness of all things, objectively wrong.

In one night, I have inspired you to a public discussion, and a frenzy of bellows to defend your deceptions. Have I touched a nerve yet, Legate of Gold? The People hear your desperate screeching, like a wingless harpy.

But enough of the stone heads.

Come all and share with me your worries and perhaps we, the People, can help resolve them. We do, after all, march forward together.

I don't even know your name. But it would break my heart if more of the People were suckered into the deceit of your hysterics.

[Sunburst]

Let me spin you a tale, people of Ephia's Well; one woven by myself, the famed and bankrupt Loryn Flickergrace.

No longer bankrupt, due to the magnanimous charity of this Man of the People, this First Citizen, Dante Moretti!

And I have come into undoubting belief that his accent wins over many a fair Ephian woman, and that his sense of adventure allures even the most disillusioned of madcaps and sell-swords. I wish to learn his language. I want to join his political party. The League of Gold calls out to my heart, and plucks at my heart strings as if playing a lyre.

And what's more, just minutes ago, a goblin rogue grazed my side with an arrow, very narrowly missing that heart! Hrm! A deadly place, this city that I've come to. Goblins hide within your abandoned homes, and I was told it was free real estate. Much already needs to be done to clean up what we already have, and some of you fret over homes not built yet!