Then, come. Sit. Let me tell you a story of my homeland.
[ he pat pats the spot next to him. ]
Like many other stories, it is a story filled with loss. It is so difficult to win peace without it, I think - there are many, many sacrifices that are made. Some are pointless. Some are not. And no story, at least in the annals of history, ever truly "ends"... but this one, I think, was for the better.
[ it feels poignant, in the context of this moment they've just experienced. so, he takes a pause to let that resonate, and then begins.
taair is a natural storyteller. his voice is gentle, but his words are laced with passion for his subject, care for his home, and he expertly manages the cadence of each beat of the story. ]
In the year 985, my homeland - then known as the State of Iria - was under the control of the Papal States of Rodinia, as one of its many vassal states. In the archives of the Papal States, these years were golden and prosperous, and the Irians gathered the holy material of luxite and brought it to the capital of Lightgloam City, the Grand Sanctuary under the Radiance. In exchange, the Papal States protected Iria from her potential invaders, and kept the state prosperous and happy.
I won't bury the lede - as you can imagine, this is propaganda of the Papal States. In reality, luxite is not a holy material, but instead, an extremely potent, extremely valuable magical ore, utilized in many ways, but most often in powerful weaponry. The Papal States are one of the largest empires on our continent, and having just lost a large piece of their territory to a revolt not ten years before, they had every intention of using the luxite to subjugate the Irians and eventually restore their former glory.
The treatment of the Irians was abhorrent, and it was mitigated through the State of Iria's rulers, who were only puppets of the Papal State. The installed royal family taxed the poor citizens to pad the pockets of the Light of Sanctuary - ignoring their very duty to enforce law and order, so long as their tithes were paid.
No place was worse than those luxite mines. There, the Irians worked for trifles in dangerous, deadly conditions, to extract luxite, the very lifeblood of the country, so the Papal States could siphon it all away. Under their thumb, thousands of citizens perished - by mistreatment, by cruelty, by high crime, by starvation - but nothing changed.
Over the years of oppression and cruelty, the spirit of the people began to grow angrier, and angrier. And the miners, at the heart of it all, began to tell whispers of revolutions through the streets. The Papal States responded to angry protests and quelled riots, crushing opposition under their heels, but still, the miners persevered, preparing traps in their mines, gathering their weapons, and forming a plan to surge against the States and overthrow the yokes of oppression that had held them down for so long.
On a particularly hot summer's evening, the miners chose to make their stand. It makes quite the image in historical record, really. The well armed soldiers - clad in all white, carrying luxite weapons, supposedly blessed by the Radiant Themself - versus the miners. Dirty, starving, common, people, armed with pickaxes and homemade bombs, motivated by their want for freedom. For a better life. Their love for country, for each other, and for the beating heart of a nation that had never had a chance to spread its wings.
These miners and their leader, a brave man whose name has since been lost to time, surged against the soldiers of the Papal State within the luxite mines. And though it was a struggle to the very end, ultimately, the over-powered, over-armed Papal State soldiers were able to overcome the rebels, and captured them. As a show of strength, they chose to execute the leader in front of his men, to make an example of him.
When the leader was brought to the front, the captain of the Radiant Guard asked him if he was afraid, attempting to make a mockery of, or to perhaps to shame, him. After all, a man just moments from losing his life may just say many things to save it - and yet. The leader of the miner turned his head back towards his men, and at the point of a crossbow, he shouted, with all of his heart - "The only thing we have to fear is numbness and indifference!"
[ a brief pause for effect there - the powerful words of a martyr. ]
Barely a second passed between the man's words and the thunk of a crossbow bolt, landing in his chest. But this statement, this call to arms, incited the remaining Irians, who rushed the soldiers and-- instead of attacking them immediately, activated the traps they had laid.
The guard of the Papal States were only aware of a few of the properties of the luxite. They did not value the lives of the men who worked there, and rarely had to fully descend into the mines themselves, after all. Vague hints of danger were enough. Their weapons, powered by luxite themselves, had long been refined, so the guards were unaware of just how dangerous raw luxite can be. The traps set by the miners were made up of piles of valuable, precious luxite ore. And the reason that luxite ore is so dangerous is because with one false contact, one bit too much of heat - it will explode.
The miners, prepared to die for their cause had every intention of taking the Radiant Guard with them. With one well thrown firebomb, they set off a cacophonous explosion - destroying the mine in an explosion that rattled the very earth, cutting it off from the clutches of the Papal States, and killing themselves in the process.
As you might imagine, the Papal States attempted to pass this incident off as an accident, but it was too late. Information spread through the cities of Iria like wildfire. And while the miners' bloody sacrifice did not change everything, it became the scorch mark that ignited a revolution. The General of the King's Army, General Faris, turned on the orders of the State's monarchs and the Papal States, and under his military prowess, united the people's rebellion army with the well-trained, well-armed soldiers who no longer wished to follow the orders of the oppressors who held them. The tides, spurred by that explosion, turned.
Within six months, the cruel king and queen of the royal family were killed as the rebels swept the palace. The Papal States remaining guards were forced to flee the country and sign a peace treaty - and for the first time in her history, after hundreds of years of oppression, the Kingdom of Iria - an independent state, led by the former General, now King Faris - was born.
[ it's killing me that you wrote out all of this while i was like "there's a funeral song they're passing out the words to and it's nice just trust me"
anyway
there's so much here that hits close to home that it's almost a little unnerving. the corrupt church state and religious propaganda, the abused workers, the riots... the church control of ore for weapons... even the last two digits of the year.
(the rebellious army general turned king, too, though that detail isn't one he wants to think of as an equivalent.)
he appreciates that there's little glossing over of events. that it's a hard-fought war with necessary sacrifices, and that nothing changes overnight — everything isn't neatly tied up with a bow at the end just for the sake of a satisfying narrative. it makes it all easier to accept as truth, and to imagine that his own country still might one day be able to tell a story that ends with hope as well.
...and in their current situation, where it's quickly becoming even harder to make out any glimmer of hope in the darkness, the martyr's words stick with him. numbness and indifference, huh. better to risk starting a fire than give up and do nothing.
after a moment, he finally looks over with a smile (tired though it is) and nods. ]
[ thankfully this story is a specific part of his lore so i was prepared LOL
as he finishes the story, taair leans back, hands folding in his lap. he knows the details of this story so, so intimately - recited not from his written book, but from his memories. it is the core of so, so many things, and in the horrors of this place, it resonates. the feeling of pushing back against something powerless, over and over, and finally - finally succeeding.
he turns to look at fidelio and matches his smile. soft and warm, exhausted from the proceedings, but genuine. ]
It was my pleasure. [ truly. ] ...I have studied the histories of my nation for years, now, but this story has stayed with me the longest. With the pressure of the Papal States' propaganda, every time I tell it, it is another little link in the chain that keeps their memory alive.
There is much to be said, I believe, for struggle. Even when it feels futile.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Don't know if everyone's gonna be ready for a big party like that again so soon, but. Yeah, we can do that part at least, with whoever wants it.
no subject
[ ... ]
I don't know about you, but... in the face of it all, I could use a distraction. I still owe you that story - would you like to hear it?
no subject
[ and it'd be nice to hear about something ending well for a change. ]
no subject
[ he pat pats the spot next to him. ]
Like many other stories, it is a story filled with loss. It is so difficult to win peace without it, I think - there are many, many sacrifices that are made. Some are pointless. Some are not. And no story, at least in the annals of history, ever truly "ends"... but this one, I think, was for the better.
[ it feels poignant, in the context of this moment they've just experienced. so, he takes a pause to let that resonate, and then begins.
taair is a natural storyteller. his voice is gentle, but his words are laced with passion for his subject, care for his home, and he expertly manages the cadence of each beat of the story. ]
In the year 985, my homeland - then known as the State of Iria - was under the control of the Papal States of Rodinia, as one of its many vassal states. In the archives of the Papal States, these years were golden and prosperous, and the Irians gathered the holy material of luxite and brought it to the capital of Lightgloam City, the Grand Sanctuary under the Radiance. In exchange, the Papal States protected Iria from her potential invaders, and kept the state prosperous and happy.
I won't bury the lede - as you can imagine, this is propaganda of the Papal States. In reality, luxite is not a holy material, but instead, an extremely potent, extremely valuable magical ore, utilized in many ways, but most often in powerful weaponry. The Papal States are one of the largest empires on our continent, and having just lost a large piece of their territory to a revolt not ten years before, they had every intention of using the luxite to subjugate the Irians and eventually restore their former glory.
The treatment of the Irians was abhorrent, and it was mitigated through the State of Iria's rulers, who were only puppets of the Papal State. The installed royal family taxed the poor citizens to pad the pockets of the Light of Sanctuary - ignoring their very duty to enforce law and order, so long as their tithes were paid.
No place was worse than those luxite mines. There, the Irians worked for trifles in dangerous, deadly conditions, to extract luxite, the very lifeblood of the country, so the Papal States could siphon it all away. Under their thumb, thousands of citizens perished - by mistreatment, by cruelty, by high crime, by starvation - but nothing changed.
Over the years of oppression and cruelty, the spirit of the people began to grow angrier, and angrier. And the miners, at the heart of it all, began to tell whispers of revolutions through the streets. The Papal States responded to angry protests and quelled riots, crushing opposition under their heels, but still, the miners persevered, preparing traps in their mines, gathering their weapons, and forming a plan to surge against the States and overthrow the yokes of oppression that had held them down for so long.
On a particularly hot summer's evening, the miners chose to make their stand. It makes quite the image in historical record, really. The well armed soldiers - clad in all white, carrying luxite weapons, supposedly blessed by the Radiant Themself - versus the miners. Dirty, starving, common, people, armed with pickaxes and homemade bombs, motivated by their want for freedom. For a better life. Their love for country, for each other, and for the beating heart of a nation that had never had a chance to spread its wings.
These miners and their leader, a brave man whose name has since been lost to time, surged against the soldiers of the Papal State within the luxite mines. And though it was a struggle to the very end, ultimately, the over-powered, over-armed Papal State soldiers were able to overcome the rebels, and captured them. As a show of strength, they chose to execute the leader in front of his men, to make an example of him.
When the leader was brought to the front, the captain of the Radiant Guard asked him if he was afraid, attempting to make a mockery of, or to perhaps to shame, him. After all, a man just moments from losing his life may just say many things to save it - and yet. The leader of the miner turned his head back towards his men, and at the point of a crossbow, he shouted, with all of his heart - "The only thing we have to fear is numbness and indifference!"
[ a brief pause for effect there - the powerful words of a martyr. ]
Barely a second passed between the man's words and the thunk of a crossbow bolt, landing in his chest. But this statement, this call to arms, incited the remaining Irians, who rushed the soldiers and-- instead of attacking them immediately, activated the traps they had laid.
The guard of the Papal States were only aware of a few of the properties of the luxite. They did not value the lives of the men who worked there, and rarely had to fully descend into the mines themselves, after all. Vague hints of danger were enough. Their weapons, powered by luxite themselves, had long been refined, so the guards were unaware of just how dangerous raw luxite can be. The traps set by the miners were made up of piles of valuable, precious luxite ore. And the reason that luxite ore is so dangerous is because with one false contact, one bit too much of heat - it will explode.
The miners, prepared to die for their cause had every intention of taking the Radiant Guard with them. With one well thrown firebomb, they set off a cacophonous explosion - destroying the mine in an explosion that rattled the very earth, cutting it off from the clutches of the Papal States, and killing themselves in the process.
As you might imagine, the Papal States attempted to pass this incident off as an accident, but it was too late. Information spread through the cities of Iria like wildfire. And while the miners' bloody sacrifice did not change everything, it became the scorch mark that ignited a revolution. The General of the King's Army, General Faris, turned on the orders of the State's monarchs and the Papal States, and under his military prowess, united the people's rebellion army with the well-trained, well-armed soldiers who no longer wished to follow the orders of the oppressors who held them. The tides, spurred by that explosion, turned.
Within six months, the cruel king and queen of the royal family were killed as the rebels swept the palace. The Papal States remaining guards were forced to flee the country and sign a peace treaty - and for the first time in her history, after hundreds of years of oppression, the Kingdom of Iria - an independent state, led by the former General, now King Faris - was born.
no subject
anyway
there's so much here that hits close to home that it's almost a little unnerving. the corrupt church state and religious propaganda, the abused workers, the riots... the church control of ore for weapons... even the last two digits of the year.
(the rebellious army general turned king, too, though that detail isn't one he wants to think of as an equivalent.)
he appreciates that there's little glossing over of events. that it's a hard-fought war with necessary sacrifices, and that nothing changes overnight — everything isn't neatly tied up with a bow at the end just for the sake of a satisfying narrative. it makes it all easier to accept as truth, and to imagine that his own country still might one day be able to tell a story that ends with hope as well.
...and in their current situation, where it's quickly becoming even harder to make out any glimmer of hope in the darkness, the martyr's words stick with him. numbness and indifference, huh. better to risk starting a fire than give up and do nothing.
after a moment, he finally looks over with a smile (tired though it is) and nods. ]
...Yeah. That was a good one. Thanks.
no subject
as he finishes the story, taair leans back, hands folding in his lap. he knows the details of this story so, so intimately - recited not from his written book, but from his memories. it is the core of so, so many things, and in the horrors of this place, it resonates. the feeling of pushing back against something powerless, over and over, and finally - finally succeeding.
he turns to look at fidelio and matches his smile. soft and warm, exhausted from the proceedings, but genuine. ]
It was my pleasure. [ truly. ] ...I have studied the histories of my nation for years, now, but this story has stayed with me the longest. With the pressure of the Papal States' propaganda, every time I tell it, it is another little link in the chain that keeps their memory alive.
There is much to be said, I believe, for struggle. Even when it feels futile.