The Speech at Larton Keep

Year 412AT, The Royalists were caught in a struggle for some weeks in the two provinces of Jern and Fendor. Both in Imperial territory, Jern was taken back first, with Fendor falling against the waves of Imperials. Times were tough and a leader needed to lift morale.

 

The Speech
In the distance, purple banners began to move into view, finally, they had arrived. Smoke filled the air over Fendor as the farmlands burned and the remaining forces of Royalist Alliance felt the Imperial noose begin to tighten. Already, reports had come through that Imperial forces had seized the Bridge on the River Trine, cutting them off from Royalist reinforcements, supplies, and escape. All defense had been pulled back to Larton Keep near the edge of Fendor, where they had awaited the ring of purple to close in.

To say things were tense was an understatement. With the bleak outlook of the situation, morale was plummeting and various groups had taken to infighting. Things hadn’t gone from yelling to weapons drawn yet, but it seemed like it might be a matter of minutes. Perhaps thankfully, time they did not appear to have.

What remained of the Royalist command structure marshaled the troops in preparation for what could well be the final battle for Fendor. And as the various companies stood ready before command, a wave of confusion descended over most as a figure robed in black, bedecked in dark jewels and bones wearing a Boar tabard drew himself up before the troops and began to speak.

“Brothers and Sisters, Comrades and Allies,” he began, and after a slight, hesitant pause, he added, “Camdorians.” There was a slight snicker from some, and at least one cry of protest from the Camdorian units, but he raised his hands in an attempt to silence them.

“We stand here today united, the last defense of Fendor. The Empire marches on us, to ‘reclaim back their land’, they say.” He pauses for a moment as a murmur went through the troops, many remembering that Fendor was, in the grand scheme of things, newly liberated from the Empire.

"Was it really worth dying for? Were these people really theirs?"

Such thoughts were common among the soldiers from abroad.

“I say nay!” the man shouted out. The cloaked figure smiled and continued.

“I say that this is NOT their land. I say none of it is! Let none kneel down to their false God! These people were freed from the yoke of Imperial oppression! These people were at last permitted to make their own decisions! When the Empire came for Jern, it’s citizens laid down arms, and were greeted by the so called ‘Holy’ Imperial Inquisition. Fendor has not made this mistake! Fendor now knows what freedom tastes like, and has fought with us to keep it! I say, Fendor are as much part of this alliance as any other! And finally, I say there will not be any need to die for Fendor, because it is not US who will be doing the dying!”

“Who CARES if they have taken the bridge over Trine, who CARES if we no longer have a supply line. Our stores are plentiful enough to last through one little siege! The fields of Fendor are burning, and the Empire will find neither plunder nor forage to sustain their forces. They are tired, they are weary, they are running out of food and they are desperate! LET THEM COME! WE STAND READY! We will repel their assault and THEY! WILL! CRUMBLE! AFTER THIS DAY, AFTER OUR VICTORY, WE WILL DRIVE THEM FROM FENDOR!”

A great cheer erupted from the troops as the acolyte gave his frenzied yell. After a moment, as they calmed down, he began to speak once more, softer and more controlled once again “So think hard on yourself and how you will prove yourself this day. Pray to your gods, whoever you so follow. Draw upon whatever strength you can muster! Worry not about the faith of the man standing beside you! Concern yourself only with those Imperial heathens, who would DENY your faith! DO NOT LET THEM! REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE AND WHAT THEY STAND FOR! VICTORY FOR THE ROYALIST ALLIANCE! VICTORY FOR FENDOR! VICTORY FOR ASHA!”