Accord of Storm and Sea

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Early Evening on the 1st of the Winter Storm
The Streets Outside of the SSPB Headquarters in Eersaeb

The evening was cold and harsh in Eersaeb, yet the streets surrounding the SSPB were filled to bursting. SSPB guards were posted at nearly every corner, and they signalled to one another at every quarter hour passing, ensuring that everything was in perfect order for the speech that had been announced. Most were curious as to what reasons the SSPB would have for such a large, and public oration. Others had figured it out. Earlier this morning it had been revealed that Aurcaele, Niseca, and Vieri had signed a peace treaty with the people of Atton, and public knowledge had abounded that there were native people in Atton. While there were numbers of Fortuna citizens who cared little for these so-called natives, many believed otherwise... And those many people also believed that other countries would soon come out in support. So perhaps it was not that there was an important announcement this evening, it was simply that it was not coming from the Palace - but from the SSPB.

The chatter on the street certainly held many opinions on all of this. Some claimed that Woodrow was aiming to strike a coup against Mydas, others believed he had been chosen to represent Mydas in this matter, still others believed this had nothing to do with Atton and just happened to fall on the same day - perhaps, these people believed - Woodrow had finally apprehended The Defiled Grail. None of these things were particularly true, and yet all of them were somewhat true.

When Lord Markus Woodrow II appeared from the double-guarded doors behind the stage, the crowd went wild. Suddenly there was no talking, no gossiping, no conspiring - only cheering. Woodrow raised a single white-gloved hand to wave at the crowd, but then paused to speak to Vincent, who remained in the shadows making up the inside of the door. Woodrow took his time leaving Vincent, and then stepped out fully, pulling his polar bear fur ruffed cloak closer to him to beat the biting chill of the wind. His hair was tied back neatly, and he wore a freshly made suit with swan-like embroidery down it's front, just visible between the golden chained clasps of his cloak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, peacekeepers, members of the Eersaeb community, members of the press, on behalf of the SSPB and Lord Markus Woodrow II I thank you for your attendance here tonight," The announcer stood on the stage, his voice reverberating through a metal stand magicked with transmutation to increase the volume of the sounds poured into it. "Without any further of your time, please welcome to the stage for a special address, the great Lord of Eersaeb, and captain of the Sumish Sea Peacekeeping Brigade, Markus Woodrow II!"

If the crowd had been loud before, now they were raucous. The cheers shook the freshly constructed rostrum, and Woodrow gladly accepted it all as he made his way to the stairs. He paused every few steps to shake the hands of the citizens who groped desperately for his attention, and after a solid several minutes made it to the podium himself.

"Good people of Fortuna," He began, his words enough to begin the silencing of the crowd, "Today I stand before you a man full of shame." This statement began the sound again, however, at least until he raised a single hand to silence everyone once again.

"I am ashamed by our country. Submiere has been rightly proud in it's place as a bastion of peace for the world. The SSPB, an organization supported by our Sultan Raphael Mydas, and those before him, has not only brought this peace to our country, not only to the seas which separate us from the nations of the world, but also to the nations of Fiamont, Niseca, Aissic, and Vieri. Today, as many of you know, it was finally brought to the attention of the world that in Atton, where war has raged for nearly a decade, native people have been fighting for the survival of themselves, their land, and their culture. Fighting against the many nations that have invaded. Fighting... Against us." Woodrow paused again, allowing the crowd to feel this shame and anger to their core. Some began to yell back at him - words he could not understand from the crowd - but he knew that not all words flung at him were positive.

"You may all wonder how we did not know about these people. A decade, you shout. The truth of the matter - we did know about these people. We knew, and your Sultan - Raphael Mydas - chose, much like the rulers of such nations as Rielcia or Malscure, to continue waging war over land that has already been claimed by God-given right. I stand here ashamed, for I merely begged our Sultan to join the peacekeeping forces of Niseca and Vieri, and did not force his hand. I stand here ashamed- Because Aurcaele has joined the side of peace before us. Before Submiere, who has stood as an example to other nations for the grander part of this past century. And I ask you: Do you share in my shame?"

The roar of the crowd told him nothing. Some were angry that he was speaking against the Sultan, some were proud that he was taking a stand; some were angry he was dragging Submiere through the mud, some were proud that he continued to bring integrity to their hold. It did not matter how they felt now. It would matter how they felt in five minutes.

"We have sent our people to fight, and to die for the sake of stealing the land of a new native people. We are not bringing peace, we are not bringing love, we are not bringing culture. Your Sultan would prefer to destroy the lives of these defenceless citizens of Atton, than ally with them. Your Sultan would prefer to take the side of violence that our enemies would lead.

"People of Submiere, I ask you! Do you not wish for us to be the ones who lead? Do you not wish to have the nations of the world follow in our footsteps, as we bring them to a better tomorrow?" It was this roar that was different. National pride. No, better than that. Pride in the SSPB.

"Then I ask you this, people of Submiere, people of Fortuna. Tell your Sultan what you truly think. Make your voices heard. Niseca, Vieri, and Aurcaele have asked us to join them in peace, have asked us to aid the Attonian people and bring them into our modern culture - to join them into our world stage. Tell your Sultan that our answer is yes. That we will not stoop to the levels of genocide. That we wish for peace! Peace! For all! Peace! Now! Peace! Always!" Woodrow raised his arms above his head, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically as the crowd cheered the words back to him. Peace, for all, now, and always.

Before the crowd could grow tired of cheering, Woodrow lowered his arms and billowed his cloak back again, turning to walk off the stage with an SSPB escort. Tablet reporters attempted to crowd him as he left, but he merely held up a hand and his guard permitted him easy access back to the doors of the SSPB offices. As they closed behind him, encasing him in the mild lamplight of the closed foyer, he turned to Vincent and smiled gently: "I do believe I've still got it."

Before Vincent could answer, one of the communications officers approached, her heels clacking on the marble floor with urgency. "My lord," She raised a piece of parchment to him from a bowed position, "As you said, sir, the Sultan has requested your audience as soon as possible."

"Return correspondence that I shall arrive at the palace tomorrow morning, ensure he makes the time," Woodrow commanded, ignoring the proferred paper so that Vincent could take it instead, "I have other plans in the noon." And with that, Woodrow was off down the hallway, his procession of guards quickly following after him.

Oh yes, he and the Sultan would have words indeed.

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