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Lord Greywulfe's Campaign Propaganda

Discussion in 'UO Catskills Role Play' started by Greywulfe, Dec 4, 2014.

  1. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    A notice is posted throughout the City of Britain.

    Greetings, citizens. Election season is upon us once again, and I know exactly what you're thinking: when will a true leader come along to finally bring to Britain the change it so desperately needs? The time, is now, and the leader, is me. The situation, I fear, is dire. The poor starve to death in dark alleys. Plague sweeps the country. Thieves and criminals run rampant in the streets. The people live in fear. Meanwhile, our governor is far too busy living it up in her extravagant estate in a faraway land. Is this the kind of leadership the people of Britain deserve? I say no.

    I am Lord Guy Greywulfe, and I have been a citizen of Britain for all my life. My origins are humble, for despite having been born into nobility, I worked on my father's lands in my youth and I know the value of hard work. Being one of you in heart and spirit, I know the suffering the good citizens have experienced under the no doubt well-intentioned, but wayward stewardship of our current governor.

    Citizens, it is time we rise up and let our voice be heard. I urge you to join me in bringing a new dawn to the city of Britain. It is time we make this city once again the shining city on the hill as it once was.

    Humbly Yours,
    Lord Guy Greywulfe
     
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  2. TimberWolf

    TimberWolf Babbling Loonie
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    What hill...the world is flat...if,you aren't careful you will sail off the edge. I have been all over Britian for years...I remember no hill??

    Our friend is obviously confused and possibly delusional....ya that is what we need in council....another delusional leader. A walking zombie that plays at being king is bad enough...sheesh!
     
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  3. Zuckuss

    Zuckuss Order | Chaos
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    *reads the message from the unknown, never heard of person with an obvious grudge against the current governor while providing no details whatsoever for his/her ideas for the intended changes to the city of Britain*

    *ponders who the individual(s) is/are which the candidate is referring to as to whom may be living in fear... fails to reach a conclusion*
     
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  4. Gillian Wilkins

    Gillian Wilkins Seasoned Veteran

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    *takes a quick look at the flyer*

    *Said Quietly, but still loud enough to be heard* Ahh, Someone else who sees what the rest of us see. I wish This Greywulfe a long office term. Best of wishes to him.
     
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  5. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An article from The Britain Times, left upon the ground unnoticed by a hurried reader. Curiously, you do not recall ever hearing of this publication before.

    Lord Greywulfe ... And The Governor's Gang of Critics
    An opinion piece by Vincent Moore of The Britain Times

    A few days ago word had spread of the mysterious Lord Greywulfe running for the governor's seat of Britain, bringing a new hope to the city. Not surprisingly, it took very little time for Lady Pandora's pets to pounce with their baseless criticism. After misinterpreting Lord Greywulfe's metaphor of Britain's destiny as the city on the hill, one of the Governor's flunkies, TimberWolf, stated incredibly that the world is flat, and then proceeded to utter a few traitorous words about King Blackthorn! Does the Governor truly wish to have such a person in her company?

    I suppose if TimberWolf truly lived in Britain he would know that this fine city does indeed rest upon a hill, but that might be difficult to discern for those that dwell in the ivory tower looking down upon the rest of us. Even more difficult still for those with no grasp of metaphors.

    Indeed, yet others have suggested that merely by pointing out the Governor's shortcomings, Lord Greywulfe must hold some kind of grudge. Truly, do we now live in a time where merely caring for the people of Britain has become a quest of persecution against the favored elite? I cannot say I envy Lord Greywulfe for bravely opposing the incumbent powers that be, whose influence and widespread corruption have instilled a chilly fear into the meek and the timid. It truly is an uphill battle for the people of Britain.

    That is to say, a metaphorical uphill battle and not a literal one, in case there is any further confusion. I, for one, look forward to seeing what Lord Greywulfe shall bring to the table.

    -Vincent Moore
     
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  6. Norrar

    Norrar Lore Master
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    Without a second thought, he discarded the paper with a silent laugh.

    " It would appear this Vincent does not have a firm grasp on the use of sarcasm." Va'lis looked skyward a moment , smiling a bit. "An author that truly believed someone was being honest about a flat world... I wonder what will be printed next, I could use a good laugh."
     
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  7. Judas D'arc

    Judas D'arc Journeyman

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    As he wandered the streets of Britain that lonely evening, Judas suddenly noticed one of Lord Greywulfe's campaign flyers and picked it up. After reading it over more than a few times, he carefully folded the parchment over and over again, until what was once flat and filled with words became a promise of something more. A promise for the future. A beautiful paper rose. He sighed wistfully, tucking the newborn parchment flower inside of his tunic, and resting it above his heart where he knew it truly belonged. Then the bard turned to the shadows, his mind on the upcoming governors' election and Lord Greywulfe in particular, and he quietly whispered to himself,

    "I'll never see a face like yours in years of men to come. I'll never see such arms again in wrestling or in love."

    And then he was gone.
     
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  8. Zuckuss

    Zuckuss Order | Chaos
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    As Zuckuss passed by a bulletin board, he halted his pace as several copies of freshly printed paper nailed to the cork backing caught his eye. He noticed something a bit odd. The Paper claiming to be a publication from a company he had never heard of was not even printed at all. They were neatly handwritten documents, all with the same message... The handwriting, indenting to look like print seemed a bit unprofessional and accusatory. The general tone and pattern of layout looked familiar to Zuckuss. Interested, he attempted to place his finger on the true author's identity. He pulled one of the copies off of the message board for future reading. "Something smells fishy about this," he mumbled. "I will indeed learn more about this Greywulfe... in addition to this "publication's" author." Zuckuss then continued his delivery of his trade order.
     
  9. Aedon Durreah

    Aedon Durreah Village of Aegis
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    Walking through Brit, Aedon paid little heed to the goings on around him. He did not like coming to the city these days. It was big, cold and reeked of betrayal. From time to time a thought would tease at the corners of his mind, and he would recall some of the years long past, and happier times in the capital of the realm.
    He only wanted to pick up his order at the bakery, and quickly return to yet, but on the side of one of the buildings, some loose papers caught his eye. Going towards the bulletin board, he read the notice from Greywulfe, a man that seemed interested in running in the next governor’s election. This should have meant little to Aedon, seeing that many miles lay between Brit and his home in the Glade of Aegis, outside Yew. But there was something familiar about the name.
    He stood in silence for sometime rereading the notice, and trying to put a face to this man. But time and circumstance had left many of Aedon’s memories fragmented or gone. Pulling one of the papers from the board, Aedon folded it neatly and slipped it into his pocket.
    “Perhaps Llyr will recall where I have heard this name before. And if not, then there were always the many research tomes in the library beneath Connemara. His curiosity on this matter though would have to wait. There was a large shipment of pies at the bakery, and he did not wish to keep the pastries waiting.
     
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  10. Flutter

    Flutter Always Present
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    Flutter had been tearing down flyers all day throughout the capital. Silly boys and their silly fliers...
    Realizing she was running out of room in her pack she pulled out a fresh set of parchments with a simple "A Vote for Lucidity Governor of Britain will bring Light into the Darkness" written by hand in large scrolling letters. The paper looked expensive and certainly was although she wasn't sure anyone below Noble status would be able to identify the Nujelm crafted paper.
    She carefully nailed them at eye level every few feet or so through the city.
    Glancing up she saw the handsome Aedon Durreah folding a piece of paper skillfully into the shape of a rose. Blushing slightly she made her way around the back of the building without being seen. She proudly continued nailing up her sister's fliers working her way around the center of the city out to the edges, sighing slightly at the worn arcane circle near the city bank. "Lucidity has a lot of work to get done here..." she thought to herself as she picked up some trash to throw away.
    No sign of the Governor anywhere, she noted. Seems as though even when the present Governor was awake she wasn't present in the city very often. Even if she ignored the rumors, she couldn't help but notice the lack of upkeep.
    "Too bad my sister has little chance of winning," she thought, "she could do so much good for so many people" Flutter sighed and reached into the pocket of her outer skirts and pulled out a handful of silver and handed it to a homeless man sitting upon a log near the waters edge.
    "Many thanks my Lady" the man said in a husky voice.

    The city used to practically glow. As she turned back she noted a slight haze falling down over the city like a veil. She pulled up her skirts and boarded her ship, sailing out until the capital was but a small dot on the horizon.
     
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  11. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An article from The Virtue's Path Journal. A few copies are pinned to a board near the bank.

    An Interview with Lord Greywulfe
    By Peter Finn of The Virtue's Path Journal

    The talk all over town in the past few days has been about a new prominent figure, Lord Guy Greywulfe, a man who is said to bring hope to the city of Britain. Yet his announcement, as brief as it was eloquent, said little about his positions, leaving many to ponder just what he could bring to the table. Thus, I sought out Lord Greywulfe to interview him personally and bring his message to those that would hear it.

    Finding the elusive Lord Greywulfe proved something of a challenge, for every man and woman that had seen him simply pointed in a direction which they claim he had traveled while meeting with the people to promote his campaign. Indeed, Lord Greywulfe has been so busy engaging with the common people that perhaps his greatest fault seems to be his failure to stop and appease the cold, distant elite, whose approval he shall surely need if he wishes to bring prosperity and justice back to the old city.

    To my amazement, I learned as well from some of those I spoke to that Lord Greywulfe had even helped them! One boy, little Tommy Dyer, stated that his cat, Chip, had climbed a tree and could not get down. It just so happened that Lord Greywulfe was passing by on his way to the next house when he saw little Tommy's plight and with a warm smile, climbed up the tree and helped poor Chip down. Then there there was the fair Lauren Faulkner, to whom Lord Greywulfe had spoke about his campaign, yet hardly a word could be said for Mrs. Faulkner's young infant was in such a terrible mood that nothing could be heard over the crying of the child. After asking Mrs. Faulkner if he could see the infant, she brought the seemingly inconsolable babe and, carrying her in his arms, he sung a soft lullaby, gave her a kiss upon the forehead, and then laid the peaceful, dozing infant into her cradle. He would then, as Mrs. Faulkner said, speak to her in hushed tones, as to not disturb the baby. When I asked Mrs. Faulkner what she thought of Lord Greywulfe, she stated, "Lord Greywulfe is the hope of Britain."

    It was later in the day when I finally caught up to the indefatigable Lord Greywulfe. When I first laid eyes upon him it was while he was handing over a hot meal to a poor man with one leg. He greeted me with a warm smile and graciously accepted my request for an interview. My first question, naturally, was about his history in Britain. As it turns out, Lord Greywulfe is the son of Lord Albert Greywulfe, the owner of farmland near to Britain. In his younger years, Lord Greywulfe's father would have him work upon the land along with the others he employed to teach him the value of hard work. Lord Greywulfe worked hard to do his part in feeding the city of Britain, but would often notice the hard work of himself and his fellows being squandered by the careless elite. He would see the city's chief virtue, Compassion, being neglected more so than any others. With the institution of elections, he saw his chance at finally bringing prosperity and Compassion back to the city of Britain.

    Impressed by the story of his humble beginnings, I asked him if he could respond to the recent criticism leveled against him. One such criticism being passed around by the elite was that Lord Greywulfe held some mad grudge against the Governor. "Nonsense," he replied with a playful smirk and wave of his hand, "I have no personal grievance with Governor Pandora. Nevertheless, when I see the Governor doing little else but reclining in Castle British or rubbing shoulders with King Blackthorn at governor meetings, I cannot help but wonder if she serves the people, or herself. What I am opposed to, is the corrupt political structure that dominates Britain's government, to which she happens to be inseparably attached."

    Not entirely convinced, I pressed further on the matter of the alleged grudge, asking if it was fair to throw these criticisms at the Governor when she had made no criticisms of him. "Telling," he proceeded to say, "that she has said nary a word at all in this election. I suppose she plans to win through the power she has attained, the status she has built, and the fear she has instilled in the people, without so much as even a word of debate or discourse."

    It was becoming difficult at this point to remain objective, as a reporter ought to be, in the presence of such an inspiring man. Thus I resigned myself to asking him of his positions and platform, and then printing his answer plainly without paraphrase or embellishment. "My first act as governor will be to address this foul plague that has swept our country in the past few weeks, and has even infected our beloved King Blackthorn. We must purge the rodents which carry this infection and then take steps to identify a cure for those already afflicted. Second to that, we must take on the rampant crime which threatens the common peoples' lives daily. I promise that as governor I shall reduce the crime in Britain. We must bring Compassion back to Britain by feeding and assisting the poor, which will bring prosperity to our city and to our spirits. Lastly, we need more commerce in this town. I shall take action to bring more trade into Britain."

    Awestruck, I thanked Lord Greywulfe for his time, and was on my way. Can it be possible that power does not have to remain in the stubborn grip of power hungry guardians? Will the voice of the people be heard? Only time will tell. For now, it seems that Lord Greywulfe may truly be the hope of Britain.

    -Peter Finn
     
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  12. An_Imp

    An_Imp Visitor

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    In the very early hours of the morning, a strange imp danced and laughed in the streets of Britain. He noted an abundance of campaign materials and reports from "alternative" news sources. Reading them, he found some pretentious, some intriguing, and others simply silly.

    He ate them. All were tasty.

    He saw a rat rummaging through a small pile of trash. The rat was missing half of its hair, and had a foul odor.

    He ate that too.

    And then he danced and laughed some more.
     
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  13. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An announcement, posted near the city stone.

    Greetings once again, my fellow citizens. Now that voting has opened, I wish once more to appeal to your reason and your heart. The voting period lasts only a week, so do not hesitate to make your voice heard. Do you desire a Governor that lives in a faraway land, or a son of Britain? Do you desire a Governor that prefers to collude with the elite, or a Governor that befriends the common man? Do you want a Governor that builds prisons for the poor, or a Governor that seeks to build homes for the homeless, and bring sustenance to the hungry? If your answer to each question was to say the former, then perhaps Governor Pandora should earn your vote. However, if you dream of a Britain where the people are happy and prosperous, and with a Governor that will look out for you, then I urge you to cast your ballot for me, Lord Guy Greywulfe.

    My promise to you shall be, as Governor, to purge our streets or crime and disease, and to fill them instead with food and health. I shall bring life and commerce into this town once again! Vote for me, and together, we can build a better Britain.

    Humbly Yours,
    Lord Guy Greywulfe
     
  14. Pandora_CoD

    Pandora_CoD Certifiable
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    *reads the various announcements placed around the city and chuckles as she wonders, for such a devoted Britanian citizen, where he was for the many Town Hall meetings she held every two weeks for months*
     
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  15. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An article from a strangely unfamiliar paper, The Britain Post. A few crumpled copies are left from where an unusual paper boy had been handing them out.

    Opening Pandora's Box
    An opinion piece by Dean Victor of The Britain Post

    Voting has begun and the elections are heating up. In Britain, three candidates are vying for the coveted Governor's seat. Lady Pandora, who seems to be seeking reelection to preserve her power, Lord Greywulfe, a man who from all appearances seems to want to help the common people of Britain, and Lucidity, a local rabble-rouser, troublemaker, and election spoiler.

    In her election announcement, Lady Pandora boasted in a moment of irony of the creation of a prison, merely a day after Lord Greywulfe noted her quest for power through instilling fear into the people. It would seem that a prison accomplishes just that. Doesn't it seem strange that Lady Pandora has finished this prison in time for the election? Perhaps, dear reader, it is mere coincidence. Then again, perhaps it is a message from Lady Pandora to the people of Britain. Who is to say?

    Did Britain really need a prison? It is a well known fact amongst some of Britannia's most esteemed scholars that the root cause of rampant crime which the Governor supposes she battles is in fact poverty and hunger, from which Britain suffers profoundly. It would seem that the Governor's preferred method of housing the poor is in a prison. From here, we shall no doubt observe as Britain further sinks into a deeper cycle of poverty, as the poor find themselves in and out of prison cells, each visit further blocking them, and consequently Britain, from prosperity.

    Is this the work of a Compassionate governor? Is this the way of the City of Compassion, by violently treating our so-called undesirables with the blunt edge of law, and not through love and charity? Perhaps our new prison should be named Pandora's Box, for what goes in are our lost and needy brothers and sisters, and what comes out are the future of Britain: the oppressed and downtrodden. To the Governor: congratulations on your new prison.

    -Dean Victor
     
  16. Scarst

    Scarst Lore Master
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    Frey wandering the streets of Britain happens upon several of these papers, "I'm glad I don't have to live here." He says after tossing the paper back where he found it, "Every election this place becomes worse" he says offhandedly as he walks away. Only to walk right into another poster. "Yeah, these people are terrible... Let's see who's at the tavern"
     
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  17. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An article from The Britain Courier, posted on a bulletin board.

    Investigating Lucidity
    An article by Branden Holdrin of The Britain Courier

    Who is Lucidity? It is a question that has been dancing on the minds of many concerned citizens. It is not normally the practice of this respected publication to inform its readers based on rumor and innuendo, but given the profound lack of information on this individual who would become a governor, it is our duty to the people of Britain to report every possible tidbit we can find. As we say here at The Courier: We report, you decide.

    Her name appeared with no fanfare upon the list of candidates, accompanied only by a cryptic message: "A Vote for Lucidity Governor of Britain will bring Light into the Darkness". With no other announcement or statement of position, it is a strange to some that she has gained as many votes as she has thus far. Nevertheless, rumors of many scandals and alleged misadventures have prompted an investigation from the best source The Courier has available: the good people of Britain.

    The investigation began with one Waylon Truman. When asked if he had heard the rumor that Lucidity had been hospitalized for mental deficiencies, and was still on medication, Mr. Truman shook his head and declared that it would be a sad day for Britain if such a person were elected for such an important position.

    Another upstanding citizen, Isabelle York, was asked if she had heard the most unfair allegation that Lucidity was involved in a criminal candy smuggling ring. Ms. York let out a gasp, and nodded quickly, showing her affirmation. She went on to say, "It's true! Not only does Lucidity seek tyrannical control over Britain's diets, but she wants to hoard it all for herself!"

    Upon speaking to local citizen Adam Cory, the question was posed whether he had heard the malicious rumor that a marking on Lucidity's arm was in fact the symbol of a cult in which she was a member. "It's true!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed, "It's not just any cult! It's the Illuminati!" After he adjusted his tin cap, he continued, "It's all connected... King Blackthorn... Sage Barnaby... Lord Warstein... the lizardmen... Lord Aedon... they are controlling the population by putting silver serpent venom into the water.. I have solid evidence that Lucidity ingests it in large quantity.. you can see it in her erratic behavior." I could hardly get a word in as this citizen bravely continued: "She's not here to win.. but rather she's a spoiler.. a plan by the government to take votes away from Lord Greywulfe!" His accusations were many, and frankly, a bit far-fetched, but if even a sliver of them happened to be true - well, dear reader, this reporter shudders to think of the implications.

    Later I came across citizen Erik Miller. He reported that Lucidity was, in fact, the town drunk, and had on many occasions bribed the town guard with both money and candy to avoid legal penalty for her loutish behavior. Indeed, the mention of candy brought to mind an earlier revelation. Perhaps they are connected.

    When local mother Rebecca Appleton was asked if she had heard about Lucidity's allegedly lewd and lascivious activities, that she was the owner of a local establishment known amongst some of Britain's seedier locals as "Mistress Butterfly's House of Pain", whereupon men would enter, and would later leave with a pronounced limp in their gait, Mrs. Appleton's eyes widened and she immediately covered the ears of her son who was standing next to her. She would then say, "I would not want such a person leading our city!"

    It saddens The Courier to see so many nasty rumors and gossip spreading through this once great city, but perhaps this is the result of a candidate who offers little information of herself. Perhaps she has something to hide. Either way, let us all hope that these serious allegations are untrue.

    -Branden Holdrin
     
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  18. MareJadeSky

    MareJadeSky Lore Keeper
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    walk a long the street of Britain to meet a friend for a cup of tea when she come a long a flyer of the ground, she pick it and reads it to her self. pausing for a moment after reading these hurtful lies, and wonder how a person can be so mean.

    she then take the other paper she has seen on the ground and place them in the trash can and say out loud " What a sad man to come up with these lie"
     
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  19. Jacuyl

    Jacuyl Adventurer
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    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

    The night before, at Que's tavern...

    Jacuyl had just arrived at the tavern and, after greeting Rorik, she was approached by a stranger. The fellow had previously been in conversation with the wretched elf Morrow. He appeared well-dressed and she was feeling particularly light-mooded, having just promoted two of her stalkers, so she decided to humor him.

    "Good evening, my lady," he began.

    "Good evening, my good man!" came her dripping jovial response.

    "I am Guy Greywulfe. And you are?" He looked at Jacuyl expectantly, but she could not tell if he was truly interested or merely trying to sell her something.

    "Jacuyl," her reply was short and to-the-point as she studied the curious fellow.

    "Well met," came the familiar banal response and she added the rest of her title.

    "Lord or Lady of Umbra," she shrugged, gender was irrelevant.

    "Ah, I see."

    At his next silence, she prompted the poor man.

    "What is this about Britain I hear?"

    "It happens that I am running for election in Britain," so he was trying to sell her something.

    "Against who?" Already knowing part of this answer, Jacuyl had asked anyway to keep the conversation from stagnating. She nodded as he responded.

    "I have two opponents, one is the Lady Pandora, who is a corrupt and fearful leader of Britain. The other, a lady named Lucidity, who I have heard is the town drunk."

    Jacuyl swayed side to side as she listened, nodding. Campaign agendas were only interesting to her if they were accompanied by scandal or if the outcome was going to affect her in some way. Slander was just icing on the cake.

    "I have to ask you a few questions."

    "I shall be happy to answer."


    "Seeing as I do have permission to vote in Britain..." She gave a big wink at Morrow.

    "A citizen of Britain, very good," he said.

    "Are you undead?" Jacuyl asked.

    "I am most certainly not," Guy answered. Jacuyl had lost most of her sparse interest in the man's agenda with that answer, but she asked her next one, anyway.

    "Do you support Blackthorn?"

    "Unquestionably, I do." With that response, she knew his nature and her hatred flared.

    "You've lost yourself my vote, but good luck anyway." She smiled pleasantly.


    "That is a pity," Lord Greywulfe replied, but she was already walking away from him. She hoped the man would fall down the stairs outside and land on a rusty nail.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Jacuyl walked past all the flyers struggling to blow free from their pins in the northern wind of West Britain. Flyers, flyers, everywhere. What was this commotion? She paused to read them, one by one.

    Pandora corrupt? If only!

    If only that kindred would turn away from those pretentious Trammel Virtues! Then she would have two potential allies among the governing council... As far as Jacuyl knew, Pandora hadn't committed any crimes, which was a true pity. Meanwhile, Va'lis of Moonglow had run unopposed and been re-elected already despite the accounts of his antics.

    Jacuyl reveled. She loved it. Absolutely loved it! Much of the populace was undecided in how they felt about King Blackthorn, let alone his governors. Was he undead? Was he another cloned half-machine? Was he evil? So many did not understand why his standard was the symbol of Chaos and it made them all the more easily swayed against him.

    She ripped down one particular flyer and read it with a leering grin:


    I welcome your attempts, fleshie... I'll be waiting for you.

     
  20. Greywulfe

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    Articles of The Britain Mail posted all over town. The paper is widely circulated but hardly known.

    Terror Reigns in Britain
    An opinion piece by Ted Smith of The Britain Mail

    Britain is now in the final days of voting, and the stakes couldn't possibly be higher. Over the past few days the votes for each candidate have steadily increased, but very recently voting has increased considerably for a certain candidate, so much so that it warrants serious concern. Is it possible that the vote is being rigged? Frankly, it's not outside the realm of possibilities. It's a well-known tactic in authoritarian regimes for the vote results to heavily favor an incumbent official to demonstrate a landslide, when truly no such landslide exists. After all, in a city so divided, should not the results reflect this reality?

    It is quite evident at this point that the people of Britain are too filled with fear to vote otherwise. The opening of her new jail, along with recent, shocking allegations of her dark and sinister nature have compelled the poor and the meek into serving the Governor's unstoppable political machine. What kind of fate does Governor Pandora have in mind for political dissenters? The rack? The iron maiden? Given to her friends in Umbra for various "testing"? Turned into a newt? It's impossible to say, and we will never truly know what happens to those that disappear.

    There is, at least, one positive outcome, even if Britain must remain steeped in fear and tyranny, and that is that the seed of hope has been planted in the hearts and minds of those who would one day cast off the yoke of the Governor's control. Even if Lord Greywulfe does not win, one day there will be others, and more will rise when the perpetual hunger, the injustice, and the crushing fear of a faraway governor that holds fast to her power in the face of popular opposition becomes too much to bear. Then, and only then, will Britain be able to be rebuilt back into its former glory.

    Until then, readers, we must all suffer silently under the heavy hand of overwhelming power.

    -Ted Smith
     
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  21. Zuckuss

    Zuckuss Order | Chaos
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    "These are some of the most unprofessional and biased writer's" exclaimed little Jimmy Shoehorn as he passed by Zuckuss at the butcher's shop in southern Britain. "I agree," replied Lady Andrea Hemmstitch, listening nearby. "This must be one of those tabloid papers I have been hearing about." The also-present Mitchell McCleansboro, nodding in agreement added, "if little Jimmy can see such examples of truth, then surely everyone can."

    Zuckuss then preceded to tote his several pounds of bacon back to his homestead, humming a sound while reminiscing a familiar Vesper related tune, from many years ago.
     
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  22. Flutter

    Flutter Always Present
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    Lucidity stepped over the homeless and trash lying about near Britain bank, bending to toss yet another bit of waste into the receptacle on her way to the voting stone. Upon scratching her mark upon the stone she noted with some nod of premonition that once again someone had led, nay, hypnotized somehow into mass votes. Could it be considered electoral fraud to have mindless drone followers all voting without question to who the other souls running were? Probably not. Everything seems normal on the surface. It was what was going on behind closed doors that concerned her. Pondering contacting this "Greywulfe" that seemed to be on everyone's lips, Lucidity fluttered her wings a bit to shake out the uneasy feeling she got in the presence of demonic types. Glancing up, her foreboding feeling was validated as she saw the Lady Pandora making conversation with another female she did not recognize.
    If I could prove misconduct would the King consider a trial? Impeachment of a Governor is relatively unheard of... she would have to document her findings carefully.

    "If I know one thing in this world, I know King British himself would not let her kind govern Buc's Den! Much less Britain herself." She muttered under her breath as she touched upon the stone that made up the guard tower. The stone could have been placed by Lord Brittish himself so many moons ago.
    Gathering up her robes she stepped lightly, mostly flying, onto her precious ship. "
    Home Henry" she ordered her tillerman as she glided down below deck to sleep.
     
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  23. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    An article from The Britain Chronicle. Copies are posted everywhere, and scattered on the streets.

    Going In For The Kill
    An opinion piece by Ben Dover of The Britain Chronicle

    Despite Lady Pandora's surprising and suspiciously high lead in the vote, the Governor's goons have not let up in their efforts to viciously rip apart the good name of Lord Greywulfe. Some of the established elite have even taken to referring to Lord Greywulfe as "Mr. Invisible", according to local hooligan and known clodhopper TimberWolf, in a no doubt sneering gesture to the good work Lord Greywulfe has done in his life feeding the people of Britain by managing large farmlands, as well as immeasurable time spent engaging with the common folk of Britain. TimberWolf even had the audacity to challenge Lord Greywulfe to a duel, in a show of abject violence which we have all learned by now is a running theme in the current administration. Is brute force the only way this administration knows how to lead?

    Known associate of the Governor, Bianca, was heard later accusing Lord Greywulfe of being in with the rangers! Indeed, the current administration will say anything at this point to defeat Lord Greywulfe, even by making up conspiracies which only the wildest of imaginations could comprehend. Truly, it would seem they want to make enemies out of the rangers as well with such an accusation.

    However, this begs a larger question. With the Governor so close to victory, why the onslaught? Of what are they afraid? It is possible, likely perhaps, that Lord Greywulfe has given the people of Britain something they have not had for some time now: hope. Indeed, the very idea that they need not cower before an invincible regime has taken root and, with time and with patience, may one day bring about a veritable renaissance in Britain, an idea which threatens those that desperately clasp to the reigns of power. It is a well known fact among historians that the path to political salvation is all too often paved with the sacrifice of many heroes in the face of seemingly insurmountable power. Lord Greywulfe is only one such hero, but something tells this reporter that he has not yet finished sacrificing for the people of Britain.

    -Ben Dover
     
  24. Zuckuss

    Zuckuss Order | Chaos
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    *A vaguely remembered dream sweeps over all of those involved in the election.*

    *You attempt to recall the forgotten dream.*

    *The one whom some have referred to as "the Moderator," waved his hand. After a few seconds all messages with 'OOC' content within them had instantly vanished. You can no longer remember them.*

    Zuckuss had awoken to the sound of thunder. He mumbled, "What is OOC?" Zuckuss then rolled over and fell back asleep.
     
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  25. Greywulfe

    Greywulfe Adventurer

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    A notice is posted throughout the City of Britain.

    Greetings, citizens. Our efforts have failed, but it seems a new governor was chosen after all. My only hope is that she proves the awful rumors said of her wrong and makes Britain a better place. Unfortunately, a few outspoken but well-intentioned publications took to overly provocative accusations and rumor-mongering which I do not condone. Nevertheless, whatever differences we have, I hope may be put aside so that we can all work together towards a better Britain.

    Humbly Yours,
    Lord Guy Greywulfe
     
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  26. Greywulfe

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    Into the Mists

    No matter how many times Guy Greywulfe had been there, he could never shake that strange sensation. The horse beneath him plodded on nervously over damp grass and fallen leaves in the early hours before dawn. A heavy fog hung low in the valley, and mountains to the south loomed in the mist like the ghosts of disappointed ancestors, while obscured trees, their stark limbs naked of leaves reached into the air like the black, skinless, boney claws of tormented souls seeking escape from their own personal underworld. Yet, despite noting every step his horse took, the further he traveled into the valley, the further away he felt from Britannia, as if the very ground he tread was in a place unworldly and unknown.

    A brisk, chilly wind blew past him, filling his ears with howling, but as it subsided he heard in the distance a soft, scraping sound, and smelled a foul, bloody odor. A few yards later, he beheld black smoke from the diminished embers of a dying campfire, and next to it an old man, his form barely visible. He sat upon a fallen log, hunched over the carcass of a slain deer, carving away with a crude knife to remove its hide. Surrounding him were the vague contours of stretched hides propped on poles and adorned with skulls and bones like some grotesque, macabre shrine to something primal and ancient. The horse would go no further, and so Greywulfe dismounted and took a seat on a nearby rock.

    For a moment, the two sat silently, neither acknowledging the other. It was a question of how to say it that had pestered him the whole journey; not merely how to bear bad news, but news of failure. The best way, Guy had decided, was to be simple, and direct.

    "Britain is lost."

    The old man said nothing. He merely continued to butcher his deer.

    "Her hold on Britain faltered, but by the hand of another. All of our efforts had little impact."

    The old man pulled a portion of hide off of the carcass. Nervous, Guy spoke a little faster.

    "My name is too new. My story and our propaganda was not convincing enough. My deeds were too f-"

    "Was there controversy?" the gruff voice of the old man interrupted. Guy regained his composure.

    "Considerable," he replied. The old man grunted in response, and continued with his work. They sat in silence for another minute.

    His time spent in the woods had changed the old man considerably. His once heavy black robe had become worn and thin and ragged and torn in so many places that he wore it in an irregular way and crudely stitched. Long grey hair had grown unkempt and dark with dirt, the tips stained red, with a beard equally as wild, and a curious odor, like a pungent herb, followed him close behind. Appearing almost more animal than man, his worn skin was wrapped thinly over a starved face marked with stains of dirt and dried blood, all of it underlining darkened eyes wherein burned the fires of destruction.

    "My lord," Guy went on to say, "I have failed you." He removed himself from off the rock and knelt on one knee.

    There was a sharp snap as the old man struggled with one of the limbs, and he spoke. "Power has never come so easily, Lord Greywulfe. It starts with a single word, whispered, and never spoken again. The word flows through time itself until it becomes like a spectre without mind, body or form, a force of nature unto itself, haunting and subjugating man without his knowledge. Thou hast not failed. This, is only the beginning."

    Greywulfe replied, "I ask you for another chance. To be forgiven. To return to Britain and carry out my quest."

    "Thou knowest well that thy fate is not for me to decide."

    Greywulfe remained on one knee, staring at the ground. "What would you have me do, my lord?"

    "Return to Britain. If thou art no longer worthy, verily, thy journey shall be short-lived." Movements in the mist drew Greywulfe's attention, as the vague form of beasts stalked the two of them in the fog beyond. "My lord," he began to say as he stood, "Why Britain? Why Pandora?"

    The old man seemed to struggle with peeling off a portion of the hide, and then ceased. "Britain is the capital of Britannia and the seat of its power. Upon its hill, it stands as the hub of the kingdom. Upon its throne sits a usurper. This is not the first time we have tried to control Britain. Forsooth, it shall not be the last."

    "You have tried to take Britain before, my lord?" Guy said curiously.

    "In another age, aye. My mentor and I once tried, and failed. He was burned alive for his failure."

    His eyes widening, Guy was startled by the revelation, imagining such a fate for himself. "They burned him alive?"

    The old man paused for a moment in contemplation. "Nay. They hung him at the gallows. It was I that set him ablaze." He turned to look at Greywulfe, knitted brows over dark, baleful eyes. "But that, Lord Greywulfe, is a tale for another time. As for Pandora..." he went back to butchering his deer, "Well, she is an outlander. We all know the fate of outlanders."

    Lord Greywulfe turned and mounted his horse. A few minutes later, he found himself clinging closely to the reigns as his horse dashed through forest fog at full gallop, while barking, snarling wolves chased at his heel.

    ~\+/~​
     
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