[CANON][RP episode] Age of Revolution


#1

The omnipresent sun basked the great nation of Kaldaross in a blinding light. Eagles soared majestically through the clouds and revelled in the fresh, energised air. As the city bustled below, the Ebongraspian Embassy was shrouded in a self-induced darkness, permanently in the shadow of clouds drenched with the souls of the innocent. It was a building many dared not set foot near, and for good reason. Ebongraspian ambassador Dractlek was an imposing, dominant man who not many dared displease. He towered over all in the noble city around, and with him the aura of dread within the embassy.

Kaldarossian officials would only enter the building under great duress, and leave with relief so great the perilous journey had almost been worth it. Yet on this fateful day, Dractlek approached his son, the epitome of all things not Ebongraspian. Spierobe, the product of Dractlek and his faithful yet abused Kaldarossian wife, was a masterpiece in all aspects human. Standing almost as tall as his father, his tremendous mane of golden hair bridged the distance his legs and torso could not. Muscular and intelligent, he was promising to look a good Kaldarossian citizen, yet that was a dream Dractlek was intent on quenching. He saw the good in the boy, and was ashamed of it. Those in the embassy laughed at him for his weakness and his pathetic offspring.

Even the Kaldarossian envoys were feeling more and more comfortable when Spierobe observed the negotiations.

Dractlek summoned the boy to his chambers, not yet 20 years old, but with the aura of a figure of authority.

“Your days here are numbered Spierobe. This wretched city is a miserable influence on your development as a good Ebongraspian. It is for this reason that I have elected to dispatch you on the next vessel back home. Pray our glorious capital may restore all that is Ebongraspian in you. Should you elect to disregard these notions, consider yourself a dying limb on the branch of our prestigious family. Our gatherings will be barred to you, visits to your mother will no longer be tolerated, and you shall be robbed of all influence and importance you hold in this here city you hold so dear. Heed my call, or be vanquished.”

Crushed, Spierobe departed for the docks with not much more than his generous library of Kaldarossian Literature. He looked back only once before setting foot on the vessel.

@shatterjure


#2

Spierose knew his father would never allow him to read such literature. These books thought of freedom, of individuality… Things that made his fanatic of a father gag.
But his father wasn’t here now. He had nothing to look forward to in the cursed empire that was his destination, so why not use his long journey to read a bit before his world turns to hell.

Two weeks of sailing later, he arrives at the port of Ebongrad. As the vessel approached the wooden docks, he observed the people there. He could tell that they were miserable. Their lives nothing more than what ‘‘they’’ tell them they’re good for. Like ants in an ant hill.
The masses are either too afraid or too brainwashed to even consider looking at the world as the people back home do.

The ship docked and he disembarked. He was greeted by a man, who seemed to be in his 60s. Proudly the man welcomed him.
’‘Welcome! So you’re Spierose? I am Gradal, teacher of the Academy of Motus! Your father told me much about you. How you like to study and…’' He looks down at the Kaldarossian book in Spierose’s hands. ’‘Trust me, you will study a lot here. None of that nonsense though.’' He points at the book with distaste. ’‘Come, lets go to the academy.’'

They make their way to the academy.


#3

It would be many years before Spierose could put his revolutionary plans into play. He hated the regime, the oppression, the unfounded murder in the streets. It was during this time that he was promoted to Royal Tutor, and assigned to the two Royals Alexander of Aldrain and Pierre Laith of Ayrith. He found them to be two clever boys, and even beyond their ripening at the age of 18, they remained in contact at the Royal library, a place of passion for both parties.

It would be two days after their graduation that the two prodigies would be walking around the docks of Ebongrad with their long time friend Daniel, whose Royal heritage had been discredited on grounds of his parents’ traitorous actions in the past. This would not deter the two nobles, and the three were the very best of comrades. It would be on this dock that the Ebongraspian republic would shimmer in the minds of the two men. One of their Royal Academy comrades had elected to celebrate his graduation with an execution, and saw in Daniel the perfect victim. A disgraced outcast with questionable loyalty to the empire would be an excellent target for his tomfoolery. Informing the secret service of his mutinous suspicions in Daniel, they were dispatched to the docks. From a nearby mast, Daniel was put to death with a sleek crossbow bolt. His two comrades, publicly disgraced and enlightened about the cruelty of the system they lived in, decided no more. They carefully crafted a plan that would bring the harsh regime to its knees. With their royal connections, the two were allowed free access into the royal palace, a most valuable tool indeed… It would only be with the help of disillusioned and decorated military commander Boris that their plan would come to fruition.