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(( Disclaimer: This entire post is IC, written from a character's IC point of view with his IC knowledge of the situation. Did I mention it's IC? ))
Notices can be found across all Alliance cities and villages, and town criers also give voice to their message. The notice bears no signature or seal.
The claimant to the throne of Capital City is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Alliance heroes!
Lady Madelynne Albrecht, hopeful of the throne of Lordaeron, brashly led hundreds of loyal followers to their dooms yesterday eve, at the hands of the bloodthirsty Forsaken and their Horde allies. Heedless of the many warnings given to her about the foolishness and arrogance of her "Crusade", she persisted in her self-righteous cause and marched her subjects to their deaths in the shadow of the ruined capital of Lordaeron.
Not only must we now grieve for this tremendous loss of life, but the Albrecht woman's brazen campaign has only bolstered the ranks of the Forsaken, now that they will no doubt raise our fallen heroes as undead abominations. This two-fold tragedy has not only cost the Alliance the precious commodity of life, but it has placed our people at higher risk from the heightened Forsaken threat.
When next you see this treacherous would-be queen, make it clear that the Alliance will not tolerate power-mongering nobility who so carelessly throw away lives to suit their own whims! We will not stand for such cavalier egotism that causes our brothers- and sisters-in-arms to suffer and die! The Horde no doubt thinks us weak and stupid for so recklessly throwing ourselves at the Forsaken fortress only to be put down like dogs.
Let us prove to our enemies that this woman does not represent us; that this woman is in fact the worst that we have to offer. Let the Albrecht name be cast into the gutters of history, lest such a mistake be repeated once more. Rise up in defense of lands that we already hold! The world is too rapidly changing to be caught up in kingdoms lost years ago. Such reclamation takes more time than to merely march up the length of the Eastern Kingdoms and fall to the blades of the undead war machine.
Rise up in defense of the people who are left!
Rise up in defense of what homes we still have!
Rise up, for the Alliance!
For the Light!
Glory to the Alliance!
Saigio frowned. He looked over the paper again.
Her little band of followers failed? What did they expect. It is folly to attempt such madness without support, without strongholds to fall back to, and without more soldiers. How many lives have been lost and will be lost because of this?
The paladin shook his head. No good would come of this madness.
A small slip of paper is tacked on to the response notice.
It is not the name, but the content of the message that is important. As a patriot of Stromgarde, I have fought all my life to see the Lordaeron continent protected or restored, and the hopeful queen's claims otherwise are baseless.
Stax came across a messageboard where two long texts sat among the short bounties and other notices. Taking one spare such in his hands, he read through it carefully, noting that it was anonymous. The second letter he read just as carefully, only to glance back and forth between the two as if watching the two writers debate in the palms of his hands.
After a long minute of standing in place, he rolled the two together, turning around and beginning to head home to store these publicized letters in his archives. In his mind, he already saw how dozens of scenarios in his mind, many with shared endings concerning how things within the alliance only blossomed, rarely resolving peacefully. Both had valid points, but as he weighed the threats between the Alliance in-fighting and the Forsaken, he reached a conclusion that he'd look over countless times on the way home.
As he walked through the streets of Stormwind heading toward the Deeprun Tram, he whistled a chilling tune. So long as he 'stayed put', everything would work itself out in his favor.
To any notable Alliance paladin:
Greetings from the Undercity! Wish you were here! Sorry to inform you and your people like this, but here we go! The Forsaken thank you for your generous contribution to our war machine. One of your more recent attacks on our city resulted in the birth of many new Forsaken. While we as a whole do not care one way or the other we merely ask this of you: "Please suicide into our city in a controlled fashion and in a controlled number. Also please die closer together and not in a large pile followed by random bodies leading out of the sewers." We appreciate your help but we ask that you help in a more productive manner."
That is all.
- Signed by 'The Dark Cleric.'
(This letter was for Binor)
McSars raised a brow, reading the notice. It wasn't the first he'd seen, and he had also heard town criers giving the message voice.
"What a damned waste of resources and time, just to have a pathetic whine." He didn't really notice the rhyming of the words - the soldier was not a poet and even had he noticed it, he would have found little joy. Such small trifles meant nothing to a man of his disposition.
Leaning closer, he inspected the small reply notice. "Who's this Dungheap fellow? Probably as much a coward as the fool that wrote the initial message."
It occured to McSars, as he trudged away, that he was hungry. Resisting the urge to scratch at the itchy, painful stump of his forearm, the knight went onwards to find something to eat.
"Ikthael rubbed his old, wrinkly face and sighed'
They call suicide missions crusades these days? Why not focus on Arathor first...but what do I know....I'm a simple man."
'Ikthael walked off to begin another day in the service of the light.'
90 Worgen Druid
Ferenold walked past the notice in Ironforge, a brow gradually piquing upwards as he read the paper.
"Th'hell is this?"
The Gilnean muttered, his eyes now narrowing upon the tattered paper as righteous indignation swelled within him. A black-feathered quill was removed, all too heavy with ink as he responded confidently to the inane babblings, writing at the bottom of the notice.
"You would demean those whom are braver and more courageous men than you? These are men whom die for their homeland, who have ventured North with the surety that many of them will pass, their hearts replete with the divine zeal that oft inspires the most dull and craven of men! These are the men whom raise blade and gaze to that which is vile and repugnant, and it is they whom are the bless-ed, it is they who shall achieve glorious martyrdom with the Holy Light~"
The following letter was introduced and penned in exquisite calligraphy:
To My Brothers and Sisters of the Crusade,
Edited by Rennali on 8/19/2012 11:03 AM PDT
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