Chapter 12: Gaining Support
The Rough Region had one main town, a small village of fishermen and their families that stood on the ocean in the south of the region. These South Roughs, as they were known, had as bad a reputation as those who lived in all the other parts of the region because of the name of their town, Ijnus. But the inhabitants of the town were nowhere near as eccentric as their northern counterparts. Most who had ever heard of the town of Ijnus had automatically assumed that they must be followers of the traitorous lord. This was not the case, the only reason they kept the name was because they believed that something in the region should have the name of one of the original leaders of Parli, who they believe history has given a bad name.
The day was hot and sunny, just like any other in the town of Ijnus. Waves could be heard lapping against the stones on the beach only several hundred yards away, directly behind the stage where all the towns’ citizens were preparing for a guest speaker. There was no news on the identity of the man that was going to be speaking. The only news that got around was that he was very important and that he needed the entire town in attendance. An opportunity such as this did not come around often. The stores closed and the schools were let out for the day. Rumors spread around that the speaker represented the palace, and that the king and queen of Parli were in dire need of the town’s help.
Whispers mixed with an air of suppressed excitement as a man with many tattoos took the stage, some thirty minutes after the crowd gathered. Many who looked on to this unusual man saw only the tattoos and shuttered at the sight of them, seeing him as a ruffian that had no business in their town. Some looked onto the man with a respect, a respect that they themselves could not put a name to.
“Thank you all for coming today.” The man with the tattoos yelled so everyone could hear him. “My name is Gyrd, and I represent a noble lord who traveled on foot, by cart, and by way of the mighty sea to speak with you.” Gyrd paused after each mode of transportation to build effect. “But do not be deceived by his posh nature, he is the humblest of persons, and the mightiest of leaders.” He paused once more hoping to get a cheer. The townsfolk did not cheer; the majority was staring at Gyrd through suspicious eyes, arms crossed. Gyrd continued, “My lord hails from the town of Patricius, where he is leader. He fought a war against the might of Twiir, while none of the enemy survived. He allows those under him to pick the berries from the trees in the fields of yuppo.”
The crowd below Gyrd spoke in hush tones, some laughing. “The town of what? . . . War against Twiir, where is that? . . . I’ve never heard of Yuppo . . .”
Gyrd knew he was losing the interest of the crowd and decided to hurry up the introduction. “Without any further veneration, I give you Lord Oldo.”
There was not a sound as Gyrd made his way off of the stage.
“Veneration?” Oldo spat as he passed Gyrd on the stairs of the stage. “Do you even know what that word means?”
Gyrd shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
Oldo jumped the last three steps onto the stage. He walked to the middle as those watching picked apart every detail they saw. Oldo now wore a plain blue jacket that had three silver buttons running down from the collar to the bottom. His pants were the same shade of dark blue, carefully creased. Blue shoes and a blue belt could also be seen. His hair was covered with a small green cap. A nametag on his jacket read: Allard.
Oldo, rather annoyed that he did not have a stronger introduction, started to speak. He did not need to yell, his voice was one that could travel over the entire audience at a normal level.
“Good morning to you all. My name is Oldo. I do not expect you to have heard of me before today, though I would be greatly honored for you to listen to what I have to say.” Oldo began to pace the stage as he talked. “It matters not who I am or where I hail from, it only matters what I am asking for you to do. I am asking you, every one of you, to join me in my cause, a cause so noble and original that it will be remembered as history, throughout history. On this occasion is the chance for all of you to become something more than just a person, a person who will live and die for a wage and a good standing in town.” He stopped pacing and pointed at the crowd. “Would you not rather be immortal, live everyday knowing that whatever does happen you will be remembered? We strive as people to be remembered, and I am giving you that chance. Take it, take this opportunity and rise above those who push you down. Rise up above those who keep you in this town. Rise up above those who have no idea you exist. Because to them,” Oldo raised his finger so it was facing northward, “to them you are just a mass. Rise up and show them that you are not just a mass, but a group of individuals. Make them feel the force of hundreds of individuals pressing down on them. Make them feel your power over them. With me you will show them, make them witness your might.” Oldo stopped to catch his breath. The majority of the crowd was continuing to stand motionless. But Oldo noticed a small group of people on his right that were muttering excitedly to each other. He realized it was that small group that had listened and planned on listening to more. Oldo quickly made his way to the right side of the stage and continued his speech to that group only.
“Yes, you see it don’t you, you see the enemy?” Oldo asked, speaking quieter this time, speaking only to those near him, the only ones who continued to listen. “The enemy lives in the palace. The enemy marks you as thieves and bandits, but I know better. I know you are not thieves and bandits, I know that you are all hard working individuals that want more than a fisherman’s life to call your own.”
The rest of the crowd, upon hearing that he was no longer speaking to all of them, started back towards their ordinary lives. Oldo noticed that the crowd was dispersing and waited until he was alone with the small group who listened. It was a smaller group then he had originally thought, comprising of only five or so individuals. They had a different look then everyone else who had shown up. These people were overall younger with several that appeared to be teenagers, but one appeared to be in his twenties.
The entire time Gyrd tried, to no avail, to keep people from leaving. He jogged from person to person waving his hands in their face, starting stories about Oldo that were nowhere near the truth.
“One time he wrestled a massive deer. . . I do not lie, he really did. . . It was massive . . .” Gyrd gave up after only a minute and returned to the stage to hear what his master would say to those who stayed.
Oldo sat down on the edge of the stage and continued, “Thank you for staying and listening. I know for certain that this is a huge step for your lives. From now on . . .” He stopped. One of the people from this group, a muscular boy who was possibly eighteen, had his hand raised; a look of expectancy crossed his face.
“Yes?” Oldo asked uncertainly.
“Enough with the fluff, we get it, what do want us to do?”
“Uh, Fluff?”
The boy nodded as if his point were clear without his explaining. “Fluff, as in cool and most likely unrealistic things you just spouted to get us to listen. Well, we’re here, so just tell us what you want us to do.”
Oldo looked to Gyrd for assistance, Gyrd shrugged. “Young man, I will tell you in due course, but for now—”
“If you do not tell us now we’re just gonna leave, so how ‘bout it man, you gonna tell us or what?”
A black haired girl nearby nodded. Oldo found it odd that she was in Ijnus, since her hair said mountains.
Oldo was not used to this sort of attitude; it took a moment for him to collect himself. He was not sure how to sugar coat what they were about to do anymore.
“Steal roses, take statues, kidnap royalty, live as anything we wish.”
Faces turned to one another with strange expressions that Oldo at first took to mean they thought he was crazy. But then an expression came about that he could recognize easily, excitement. He then knew he had something more important than just their attention, he now had their interest.