Freedom

The next few days pass without incident, and soon enough the champions once again gather to back Lord Greyheart as he addresses the people. There has been responses from every noble save for Rastus Malen, eventually acquiescing to Lord Greyheart’s demands. Though they are somewhat belligerent about it, they respect his authority enough to bend the knee to the newly crowned king.

Word of the attempted **** has spread, and the people are incensed that an attempt was made on the life of their beloved leader. Though no evidence exists to link him, Rastus is largely blamed for the failed attempt. His refusal to bow to Lord Greyheart’s proclamation is seen as evidence enough, and has the will of the people firmly on Lord Greyheart’s side. This has essentially silenced the dissent towards the freeing of the slaves, and left Lord Greyheart more popular than ever.

Now, though, is the day of reckoning. Lord Greyheart stands near the doors leading towards the stage where he will make his speech. Standing beside him as always is Bernal, though the wounds he suffered are still bandaged. The rest of the champions, Kael included, wait restlessly, the massive crowd outside audible even through the thick stone walls. They have all left their companions at home, at the request of Lord Greyheart. As symbolic as it would be to have them there, he deemed it an unnecessary risk, given the number of people and the likelihood of a few disgruntled individuals wanting to make a statement.

Lord Greyheart nods, turning from his conversation with Bernal. “It’s time. My champions, I thank you for everything that you do. Today is a big day, and one that will be remembered. Be proud of your part in it.”

With that, he turns and opens the door. The roar of the crowd is almost a physical ****, a literal wall of sound. The champions follow Lord Greyheart into the teeth of the tumult, the sound pounding their eardrums and shaking the very ground beneath their feet. As Lord Greyheart steps up onto the podium, he raises his hand for quiet, and almost immediately, the crowd ceases. The silence is almost as shocking as the noise.

Kael surveys the crowd with a professional eye, watching for anything unusual. Mostly, he’s surprised by the diversity he sees. Though largely human, there’s more than a few soon to be former slaves, usually standing side by side with their soon to be former masters. Though most of the humans are smiling, most of the nonhumans are looking on in either nervous anticipation or outright worry, as if there’s a chance they’re dreaming. There’s hope in every eye, however, a hope that was likely long dormant.

Lord Greyheart scans the crowd as well, but only for a moment. He holds out a hand to Bernal, who pulls a scroll from a pouch and hands it over. Lord Greyheart holds the scroll aloft, and begins to speak, his voice echoing across the crowd.

“I have here in my hand, a proclamation that I signed this morning. In it, I have approved a new law if the land.”

He unrolls the scroll, scanning it for a moment. Chuckling, he rolls it back up. “It’s all written in very descriptive and florid terms, with a lot of legal descriptions. I’ll save you the trouble of interpreting, and say it in plain speech.”

He stands straighter, assuming a more regal stance. “As of this moment, slavery is no longer allowed in the kingdom of Erillia. All slaves are officially freed, and all people, human and nonhuman, are afforded the same rights and privileges.”

The crowd begins to cheer, but Lord Greyheart continues. “In addition, no slaves are allowed to be brought here, and any who enter this kingdom are immediately considered freed as well. Erillia is a free nation, for all people!”

Now nothing can hold back the cheers. The noise is almost painfully loud, and Kael winces slightly as he scans the crowd again. What he sees is incredible. The display of unity is beyond anything he expected. He sees a kobold, lifted and hugged by her neighbor. A grizzled old dwarf smiling and shaking hands with a soot stained blacksmith. An elf and a cat girl dancing with a group of humans and their children. Here and there there’s people not celebrating, but even most of them are at least clapping.

Lord Greyheart smiles as he watches the celebration, letting it go on for a while. Handing the scroll back to Bernal, he eventually raises his hand again. Slowly, a silence falls, but there’s still chatter. Not even a king can stop this level of excitement.

“I have a few things to say before I let you all celebrate. First, as you likely know, an attempt on my life was made recently.”

An angry murmur passes through the crowd, and he nods. “Thankfully, my champions were there to defend me. Now, I believe that this was largely an attempt to intimidate me away from the path we embarked upon today. As you can see, I don’t scare easily.”

There’s a cheer, and he continues. “Still, though, it brought something to my attention. Nothing lasts forever. And so, I have begun the process of selecting a successor. When I next stand in front of you, perhaps you’d like to meet them?”

Another cheer, and Lord Greyheart smiles. “I thought so. Soon, then. And now I take my leave. Celebrate, and welcome to all. Erillia is free, and always will be!”

He waves, and amid the raucous cheers, turns and heads for the door. Kael and the other champions flank him, and they all breathe a sigh of tel when they’re inside, the walls once again muffling the sounds of celebration. Lord Greyheart smiles, nodding to each of them.

“That went perfectly. I thank you, my champions. I’m sure you wish to return to your newly freed companions. You have my leave to go.”

He turns to Kael and Ria. “Except you two. We need to talk. Follow me, please?”

Kael shares a glance with Ria, who shrugs. The two of them follow Lord Greyheart and Bernal as they walk down the hall.