Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

26th of Ashan, Arc 718

So much death. Suffering. City piling onto another - a strike from each blade, a fallen man. Lysoria, Ironridge, Yurrova, Ne'haer, Bayward, all the rest; they had been embroiled in a conflict for some time. Soldiers had fallen en masse, and the cyclical nature of war meant that there was little chance for an extended peace. Wars never ended because two sides learned to love one another, or forgive.

They ended because the people grew tired, and their exhaustion eventually began to surpass their scorn. While for the adults of Ne'haer this moment had not yet come, for many of the children, the thought of continuing a military conflict was one of anxiety and horror. Many of the young boys growing up in these very pastures were to be disposed of as foot soldiers when they came of age, and many of their fathers had already gone to see the second side of the sun.

The orphaned children, some losing their mother and father, were living in a surreal world. They had only themselves and their fellow orphans, stealing and causing mayhem, with not enough money to even bury their parents. Instead, their fathers laid around in bags somewhere, and their mothers the same; if they weren't directly planted into the dirt. There were no coffins, no headstones, no pieces of recognition. They could plant a stake in their grave, and wrap flowers around it, but that was all. A city that faced real war did not have the wealth to maintain its culture. The people fell into a state of animalism, not honoring their soldiers, piling their comrades into the street as infections and diseases befell them.

Alistair determined that he would help change the macabre state of these outlying towns, the places that often went neglected by the government and the military. He brought Kaelserad to one of the outlying suburbs, and now with the remainder of his gold nel he would invest in cleaning up the city; burying their dead, removing the bile and rancor from the streets, and making the township look appealing. With the town becoming cleaner and healthier, others would move in, and many from surrounding neighborhoods would seek out Kaelserad for medical help.

It was a revitalization project, and he had the funds to do it. He would start with the areas surrounding Kaelserad, and eventually move into the city. The mage vowed to transform Ne'haer, and help reinstill the same vitality that it once had.

With that being said, Alistair funneled eleven thousand gold nel into a city revitalization project, with both paid contractors and numerous volunteers attending the event, which began this trial. The humble suburb of Ki'eiran would be cleaned, treated, and put to rest.

Countless children funneled into the hospice, with mothers attached to them at the hip, fathers some -- amputee parents, wounded, diseased. It was a gruesome sight, treating so many of the broken all at once. His office was filled with volunteers and temporary employees, and their goal was to treat at least every child in Ki'eiran by the time the trial came to an end. The office would be open for the entire next twenty four breaks, all of the volunteers sacrificing their comfort for the cause. As such, the line began early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. There were hundreds of people filling the waiting room, sitting in the yard, and even drinking water by the nearby lake. Groups of people made arrangements to keep their place in line - one would stand at a time, while the others cycled out, drinking and eating and doing whatever else they needed.

The healthy and able worked within the town, scrubbing walls and rinsing off cobbled floors, gathering bodies and bringing them to the empty, overgrown field behind the lake.

Alistair, as the head physician at Kaelserad, could not participate as much in the revitalization as he wanted. He treated one child after another, determining their various ailments and making them right. Currently, while Kleine handled the incredible volume of people smashed together in the lobby, Alistair and a volunteer co-physician treated a young girl named Melila.

Her mother had gone to fight against Ironridge, and developed a flesh-eating disease amidst her stay in the woods north of the city. When she returned home to Melila, the parasites that caused the disease got into their bedsheets, blankets and quilts, and infested the whole of the household. They had already lost their dog to the disease, and Melila's brother had much of his back burnt in fire to prevent its spread. The girl was beginning to lose the flesh and skin on her arm, and Alistair recognized the immense threat that a disease like this brought. It was contagious, and needed to be expunged.

The treatment, however, was gruesome. Using a surgical knife, he needed to dig out the infestation from her skin, which meant raking much of it off. Needless to say, the procedure was horrific and involved a great deal of restraint and pain resistant poultices, followed by Scarf Rot on the raw flesh and several strangler fig bark infused bowls of hot soup. Alistair maintained calm due to the experience he'd had in treating such cases in the past, but the co-physician he'd hired was wracked with guilt, convinced that there must've been a better way. And Melila was not the only child they treated to the sound of screams; there were others, mostly those dealing with infections, diseases or grievous physical injuries. Many lives were saved, but he did not often see the children leave through his door with big smiles and a heart full of gratitude.

Deovan, one of Alistair's Revenants, gathered the corpses of the children's parents that had died from horrific and contagious ailments. Melila's mother, for example, was found and wrapped in her infected quilts and cloths. He hauled her to the empty field and shoveled out a lot for her body, wrapping her corpse in the fabrics and placing her inside. It wasn't a coffin, but it was still something, and their graves were marked for headstones. Most people begged to instead see their families burned, staying the diseases from the volunteers who'd offered to drag the corpses to the field.

"Out of all of ye places impacted by the war, an' the illnesses sweeping across these realms, Ki'eiran 'as been affected far worse than most. We 'ere 'ave known nothing but grief for the last few arcs, an' ailment after ailment has befallen us. Many of our 'omes lay empty, our streets bare of merchants. We've suffered in silence -- but finally, we sing tagether, fingers locked, arms aroun' each other's back. An' we don't 'ave ta fear that by oldin' our brothers or wrestlin' on the fields, we're goin' ta be sent ta a 'ospice ta die with bubo's and blisters growing from our eyes. For all of this, we have so many ta show our gratitude ta. But amon' all of us, the greatest 'ero of Ki'eiran stands proudly 'ere ta-day: Alistair of Aedirn, a man who has returned ta our fair city after so long living with the 'orde that sweeps the 'orizon," the man announced; he was the town crier, and a rather eloquent one at that.

Alistair was announced, and thus his speech came. He stepped forward onto the podium they'd prepared, with a wooden post on which he could lay his arms and lean forward. He did so, immediately showing a casual demeanor, as the man smiled out to everyone in the crowd.

"Hello, everyone," he spoke with a calm voice. "I'm Alistair, as you all know me; a the owner and head physician at Kaelserad, and a member of the fine community of Ki'eiran. I left Ne'haer for some time to see the world outside of it, venturing to Gauthrel and learning the language and ways of the Horde, garnering the techniques of many of their greatest warriors and doctors. Unfortunately, upon my return to the city, I found naught but suffering: this, what you saw this trial. Corpses assembled, children writhing in pain. I'm not going to offer you all an over-long speech about my grief in witnessing this, as I'm sure you all know it. I'm simply going to inform you of my intentions to bring change," he spoke, nodding. Straightening himself and standing before the crowd, he stepped to the side of the podium, so the whole of his form was visible.

This was his... announcement.

"I'm going to run for the Council of Minaih, to preside as the advisor for International Affairs. Anthony Fransse was a good man, but unfortunately he couldn't have died at a worse time. We are embroiled in a war from within and without; our own vassals stir against us, whilst enemies from every corner of the region encircle us. I have seen war, and I have led men to victory. I have seen peace, and I have made it. I wish to take on this position to put my skills to use for our fine city, and if I cannot bring peace to the region, I will see that our men are not dangled around by the council like bait or pawns. Ironridge, Lysoria, and Bayward will make terms or be crushed. I know the cruelty you've seen from them on the field - all of you injured men and women, desperately seeking to understand why these realms must always seek to disturb the peace. I have no answer. But this peace will not be disturbed for any longer - and as I have helped alleviate your ailments, I will relieve us of the root of the problem, from the top to down below," he professed, standing confidently. Many in the crowd stared in what seemed like awe.

For these people, broken and beaten and diseased, all they could feel was hatred and grief. They blamed the Lysorians, they blamed the people of Ironridge... they even blamed their government. But they respected Alistair, and thus it began.

The purpose of his investment was never really to gather direct coin as a result of the city's vitalization; it was to bring in fundraising, campaign funding, and numerous volunteers and advocates. Alistair would bring Ne'haer into a state of suspended strength, working from the roots to the top. By doing so, he would prove his worth to the city, and he would be given the recognition he deserved.

With that, and with the trial coming to an end, the night was finished with hundreds of eyes viewing a collection of hundreds of fires; bodies were burnt, and their corpses were made into ashes, piled into urns. Ki'eiran would begin to rebuild, and others would begin to move in. It was a good thing he'd done, and a good place to start the campaign.