Topic: The Remember Your Roots Campaign

BardGallant

Date: 2010-04-01 01:43 EST
The following commercial began airing on all major Rhy'Din networks in the early morning hours of April the 1st, and continued to be played at half hour intervals during regularly scheduled program breaks. Copies have already begun circulating on the MultiUniversal Digital Network (think Internet) as well.

A panoramic overview of the city pans across rooftops and over well tended gardens at early sunrise. A calming and serene music blends charmingly in with the sounds of morning birdsong and a cool spring breeze that whispers soothingly to the viewer. One letter at a time, a single word shimmers across the screen until it solidifies into a calming bold emphasis of what this joyous vision truly portrays.

Rhy'Din

The camera angles down and swoops in as if gliding on the back of a serene golden eagle. This display shows the viewer streets bustling with activity as shops open their doors and windows to greet the day. A freshly baked loaf of bread is set to cool on a windowsill by one of the city's many known bakers. The woman looks up with a smile and waves to the audience with a checkered oven mitt, then she turns in to resume her work.

A blacksmith is already hard at work pounding away on an anvil as the bird-camera passes by his open shop. Horseshoes and iron-shod instruments of various design dangle from hooks at the edges of his pavilion. The blacksmith looks up from his work and smiles at the camera as the bird-view passes him by. He then lifts his hammer, looks back down at his anvil, and drops it down in an array of busy sparks to resume his work.

The camera swoops around an open market square where dozens of crafts sellers are already setting up their awnings to shield themselves from the warm spring sun that has only started rising. A woman at a table covered in beaded jewelry looks up as she is laying out a sparkling pendant, smiles at the camera and waves before looking back down to resume putting out the rest of her glittering wares.

Finally the camera circles around until it focuses on the central Market fountain, where there stands man with dark black, wavy hair and stunning blue eyes. He is smiling as he watches a young girl with curly blonde hair play with a wooden toy horse and a ragdoll on the clean cobblestones nearby. He looks up at the camera, still smiling fondly, and gestures to the little girl. "This is Lucy," he says, and the little girl looks up, twisting around to look back at the camera, and smile in the most alluringly childish way. Her cheeks fill with dimples.

The man steps away from the fountain with a comfortable ease of grace, and the camera follows him as he walks a circle around Lucy and kneels down beside her. He sets his hand on the little girl's back. She smiles up at him, then goes back to the task of playing with her horse and doll. The man continues to speak to the camera, though he keeps a small amount of fond attention on the little girl at the same time.

"Lucy has lived here in Rhy'Din all her life, isn't that right?" The little girl looks up shyly, giggles and nods. "Lucy's mother owns the flower shop right around the corner." The man points to his right, the camera's left, with a long fine finger. The camera turns and pans around the busy market square to focus in on the flower shop in question. A variety of hundreds of floral arrangements line the windows and tables lining the outside walk just in front of the shop. When next we see the speaker of this video, he is walking along that row of flora, plucking a rose from one of the arrangements, and sniffing in its natural perfume with a satisfied sigh.

"Lucy and her mother both know that Rhy'Din is a beautiful place, full of wonders the likes of which no known world in the farthest reaches of the multiverse can as equally claim. Lucy's best friend lives just over there." The man points off to his left, the camera's right, and it pans over to show the viewers a young centaur filly waving cheerfully at the screen. Her russet pigtails bounce with her glee, and she giggles as Lucy runs over to join her. The two girls begin whispering secretively, as many young girls do. "Clearly, Lucy's best friend is not human," says the man with a grin.

The camera pans back to him, and he is walking a slow circuit around the market square with a calm and easy gait. "Children like Lucy and her best friend have seen the best that there is to offer in Rhy'Din. They have known very little hardship in their short lives. Nothing the likes of which some propagandists would like you citizens to believe.

"Lucy has never been poor. Her mother's business provides her with all the money her family could ever need, and her father helps out by delivering parcels to other nearby homes. Lucy's family has never suffered starvation. They've always had food on their table. The word poverty doesn't even exist in her vocabulary, and it never will.

"For Rhy'Din is a city full of wealth, and commerce continues to thrive. This marketplace, like many others in our city, is always bustling with activity." The man's circuit brings him back to the fountain, where he spreads his arms, a cue for the camera to pan around again and take in the images of bustling activity he has spoken of.

Well-dressed patrons of various interests stroll across the clean stones, stopping to browse at the tables set up by traders and salesmen of various wares. Here we see the jewelry stall again, and over there a collection of china made clearly by hand. As the camera examines each and every bit of business, the man continues to speak off screen.

"Never in these streets will you find a man, woman or child dressed in rags. Never will you find the elderly and infirm sitting on a corner, shaking a tin and begging for change. Money flows in the streets of Rhy'Din like water. Of this there is never a shortage. And because of this we can all be certain that no matter the circumstances, we will thrive and be forever safe.

"Even with the Watch, so sparse and unappreciated patrolling our streets—" The camera hones in on a man in uniform, walking along alertly in search of trouble. "—this is not enough. Our current government would have you believe that they and they alone are all who are fit to protect the citizens of our fair city, but that is not true.

"Every man, woman and child in Rhy'Din has the capability to keep their homes and neighbors just as safe as these unknown Watchmen. Who watching now can claim they do not have at least an inkling of knowledge on combat and defense" Who of you can say that if you were to see an innocent in danger by the mysterious evils of our city that you would not intervene to protect them, to save them and to do away with such a menace on your own?

"The people of Rhy'Din are not cowards. We do not hide and cower as your current government would like you to believe. We are not helpless and wholly dependent on a sanctioned health care system either. Why, just down this street—-" The camera pans in again to follow the dark-haired man as he walks down a well-lit side road. "—there is a healer by the name of Moreen."

The camera turns in to focus on the sign hanging over the door, a simple artistic affair denoting a mortar and pestle, the universal sign of an apothecary in less modern worlds. The door opens, and standing there is a homely woman who looks surprised to see the camera looking at her. The dark-haired man steps back into the frame with a smile and takes her hand, turning to face the audience. "Moreen has lived here all her life as well, but business for her has not been as booming as it could have been, all thanks to your current government."

The dark-haired man takes Moreen the healer by the hand and walks with her out of the side-street and back into the bustling market square. "Rhy'Din," he says as he makes his way back to the fountain. Upon reaching it, he turns with his back to the spray of water and his arm around Moreen the healer's shoulders. The child Lucy runs up into the frame at his side, and he takes her hand as she too faces the audience. Her friend the centaur canters in to stand behind her.

"Remember your roots," says the dark-haired man. "This election year, don't put your trust blindly in a man who claims to know what is best for you. You yourselves know what is best for you, and for generations long before there was a government in Rhy'Din you have been self-sufficient and wise.

"This election year, vote for me, Sheridan Driscol, and I will do all in my power to return our fair city to the self-sufficient paradise we have always known it to be. I won't stifle you with false hopes and persuade you to forget that which you already know. For generations we have had the power to fend for ourselves, to stand up for ourselves, to support ourselves. You don't need a governor who is going to tell you how to live your lives. You need a governor who is going to encourage you to live the lives you always have lived.

"Remember your roots, Rhy'Din."

The camera moves backward, away from the scene, leaving healer Moreen, Lucy and her centaur friend waving with bright smiles at the audience. A scrawling message etches itself across the screen.

Remember your roots. Vote smart. Vote Driscol.

Then the commercial fades to black and returns the viewer to his or her regularly scheduled programming.

BardGallant

Date: 2010-04-03 05:44 EST
The following commercial began airing on all major Rhy'Din networks in the early morning hours of April the 3rd, and continued to be played at half hour intervals during regularly scheduled program breaks. Copies have already begun circulating on the MultiUniversal Digital Network (think Internet) as well.

A somewhat haunting melody that fills the viewer with a mild sense of dread, but more importantly doubt, plays softly in the background as an image of a man appears on the screen. The man has a chiseled jaw and a friendly face, one the viewer is likely to recognize immediately, but just to be on the safe side, a voice off screen states, "Governor Simon."

The camera backs away from the image slowly, and as it pans out a smooth transition from Governor Simon's portrait peels away to reveal a bleaker and grayer aspect of the city. Here we see abandoned streets and a swaying shop sign, as if all of Rhy'Din looks deserted. The camera leads the viewer down these hollow, dusty roads slowly, as if everything is being seen through the eyes of a slow and dejected witness to the end of the world, where everything is dull and empty.

"For two years," says the off-screen narrator, "this man has been your elected government official. For two of the only three years in which Rhy'Din has agreed to allow a single individual to look after the best interests of every citizen — man, woman and child — Matthew Simon has been your chosen guardian. You have put your trust in him, relied upon him to care for you as the father of our city, but what has he truly done to fulfill his obligations in that role?"

The dreary streets of an empty Rhy'Din fade away at a cracked crosswalk, and instead the viewer is exposed to a fragmented scene that shows Governor Simon at a podium, addressing the media in which he states, "I am the only candidate to file my application for Governorship within Waterhouse Accounting's original deadline." And: "My application was submitted the day after Waterhouse Accounting's notice that candidates were to submit their election applications." As well as: "I want to remain as Rhydin's Governor."

Instantly the viewer is then exposed to a new scene. Here are the wharves of the Dockside district, hundreds of various ships of all sizes moored a their docks. Fishermen and sailors toil about their business in the late afternoon. The sun is a beacon of warmth as it sits low over the water, hours yet away from setting. The off-screen narrator resumes speaking.

"Can we truly put our faith in a man who is so anxious and eager to rule over us once again? What does Governor Simon gain by taking on a third term in office" What are his honest motivations for leaping upon the opportunity' No one knows, for the Governor himself has yet to tell us. Instead, he squanders his time ridiculing the other candidates and asking them how they can serve the city better than him."

There is a pause in the narration to allow the viewer to admire the scene of busy seafarers and the glow of the not quite setting sun. A breeze whispers through, and the previously doubt-instilling melody fades away. The scene changes on a new note, a more soothing and pleasant underscore of a melody, and the Dockside district is replaced by the sight of a man with dark, wavy hair and bright blue eyes. The man is sitting on a bench in a serene and sunlit park, and he smiles at the camera.

"Rhy'Din, I will tell you how I can serve this city better than Governor Simon. To start, I will not treat you like the foolishly ignorant and helpless children that our current father figure believes you all to be. I will not hide behind closed doors and turn away petitioners. I will hear you, as I always hear you; walk amongst you, as I always walk amongst you. What this city needs is not a father figure, but a friend, and if you elect me for governor this election year, that is what I will be for you."

The man rises from the park bench with a fluid and confident grace, maintaining that smooth and charming smile. As he walks away from the bench, through the park, the camera moves with him. "I will open your eyes again to the truths that Governor Simon has been hiding for you for two too many years. We are a self-sufficient and loving city. In times of crisis, we pull together." He stops and turns, gesturing to his left, the camera's right.

The camera turns to take in the sight of a building under construction. There are dozens of laborers working hard in the afternoon sun to erect walls for what looks as if it is to soon be a house, when all is said and done. The dark haired man comes back into the frame, now wearing a construction hat, and holding a hammer in one hand. "When Sanyumoto struck, many of our citizens were homeless. This family here was among them." He gestures again, and the camera turns.

Another man wearing a construction hat and a tool belt looks up from where he is sawing a beam to a particular length, and he smiles. A woman carrying a tray full of refreshments pauses to set a glass of lemonade down nearby, and she too looks up to smile. A young boy and even younger girl skip through the frame, giggling as they kick a soccer ball back and forth between each other.

"It was not," says the dark-haired man, "as Governor Simon would have you believe, the charitable donations of cash gold, that helped this family survive the disaster. Instead, it was the kind disposition of neighbors with extra rooms that allowed this family to have a place to lay their heads at night, and the extra time as well as hands devoted to help them rebuild their lives." The camera backs away to show the dozens of people working on building the new house, some pausing to wave and smile for an instant before returning to their labors.

The dark-haired man steps back fully into the frame. "If you elect me as your governor this year, Rhy'Din, I won't throw money at your problems. Nor will I pretend to be your only recourse. What this city needs is a reminder that we are not the barbaric civilization of chaos and anarchy that others may have been lead to believe. We are a city full of various peoples of various trades who all depend on each other to survive."

With his next words, the scene periodically changes to show different people who fit appropriately in the roles he describes.

"The wood-cutter is supported by the ship-builder who purchases his goods in order to create his next sea-faring masterpiece. The miller is supported by the baker who purchases his ground meal in order to bake her breads every morning. The brewer is supported by the innkeeper who buys his beverages in order to quench the thirsts of his patrons."

The scene focuses back on the dark-haired man, where he is now helping put up a stretch of drywall while addressing the audience. "What I offer you, Rhy'Din, is a helping hand. I offer to you the freedom to be who you are, to remember who you are, not to be led blindly with the presumption that I know what is best for you. Only you—" The drywall is up, so he turns again to look directly at the audience, firm and certain but still somehow smiling. "—know what is best for you. And only you can decide whether or not to remain independent and free.

"Vote smart this election year, Rhy'Din. Vote for me, Sheridan Driscol."

The commercial then fades to black and returns the viewer to his or her regularly scheduled programming.

BardGallant

Date: 2010-04-06 11:33 EST
The following commercial began airing on all major Rhy'Din networks in the early morning hours of April the 6th, and continued to be played at half hour intervals during regularly scheduled program breaks. Copies have already begun circulating on the MultiUniversal Digital Network (think Internet) as well.

Unlike the previous two commercial advertisements, this one begins with a written disclaimer viewed on a black screen.

Warning: What you are about to see contains disturbing imagery that may not be suitable for all viewers. Parental discretion is advised.

After a significant amount of time has elapsed to allow the viewer to read this message, we are immediately exposed to the sights and sounds of a woman huddled up against a wall, screaming in the utmost terror. The woman is pressed up as tightly against the wall as humanly possible, one hand raised as if in attempt to both escape and ward off an unseen attacker. Her clothes are ripped and soiled, her face marred with dirt and some substance that may possibly be blood.

The frame freezes the woman's terrified expression and her mouth remains stuck open in silent shrieking. A single word flashes across the screen, and as it does an off-screen narrator states what it says:

FEAR

"This single emotion rests at the heart of Governor Simon's campaign." The off-screen narrator continues to speak these words after a poignant pause. "He wants you to fear, as this woman is afraid. He wants you to cower in your beds at night, shaking yourself to sleep, wondering just how safe you truly are. Governor Simon wants to fill your heads with doubt and uncertainty, and by his very words he puts into question your own ability to protect yourselves when danger rears its ugly head."

Mercifully, the frozen image of the terrified woman fades away and is replaced with a different scene entirely. Here we are exposed to the animated practice drills of a very small community of swordsmen. This scene shows not the regimented routines of military formations, but instead the peaceful and fluid disciplines of a sword master's dojo, with only a small handful of students practicing their forms and a little bit of sparring. Some of the students are no older than an estimated five years of age, by the look of them.

"Governor Simon wants you only to put your faith in the Watch that he has supported during his two years of service to our city. Though he himself manages the Duel of Fists Outback complex, never once do you hear him suggest the possibility that those men and women who participate in such sports are just as capable as the newly uniformed men and woman on the city's payroll to help defend and protect our city.

"Yet here we bear witness to the future of our city, as well as the past. Here we see a dojo where future swordsmen are training diligently to learn the tools of the trade that will allow them to defend and protect the innocent when the need arises. Here, perhaps, also train future Duel of Swords competitors. Whatever their future may hold, the one certainty is this: They are preparing for the reality that Governor Simon insists on reminding you exists, that there is cause to fear."

Once more that single word presents itself to the screen, scrawling one letter at a time and overlapping the scene of the students practicing their forms.

FEAR

That single word hovers for a few long seconds to remind the viewer of the purpose of Governor Simon's campaign. Then that word is accompanied by the formation of three new letters beside it that present a new message.

FEAR NOT

The next scene shows a dark-haired man with liquid blue eyes walking backward through a wide and bustling street. "When I walk through this city," says the man, "I am not afraid. For I see the truth that Governor Simon insists on keeping secret." The man spreads his arms and the camera pans around, showing clear images of a few individuals that the man, the same narrator, describes as they are shown.

"Here we have a member of the city Watch himself, in his pristine new uniform that marks him clearly for what he is: a defender of Rhy'Din city. Governor Simon would have you rely solely on this single man and his comrades in arms for all your security needs. But even here in this busy street, our Watchman is only one against the throngs of many."

And indeed there are dozens of hundreds of people moving through this street. The dark-haired man walks through the middle of the teeming masses. "Our Watchman stands out in this crowd, but he is not the only person present who is capable of protecting you should something amiss occur."

Then there is a scream in the center of busy street, and the camera zooms in quickly to show a defenseless young woman carrying a basket full of groceries on her knees, surrounded by a gang of hoodlums who seem intent on beating her, and perhaps worse. There are five of these such men, with wide grinning faces and weapons of their own. This image freezes, stilling these individuals in time, and the camera zooms out slowly to show the surrounding crowd.

Many of the onlookers stare in gape-mouthed wonder, unwilling to move in to assist the innocent woman. The Watchman in his uniform can be seen just barely in the corner of the frame. But the video highlights a few other individuals more brightly on the fringes. The camera moves in on one of them and circles around him to show all the details that the off-screen narrator, the man with the black hair, describes.

"This man here is carrying a longsword, sheathed and buckled to his belt." Indeed, the frame shows him putting his right hand on the hilt, preparing to draw the weapon and frozen in a hurried step forward to rush to the woman's aid. "He dresses loosely, but underneath that finery one with a keen eye can tell that he also wears armor." A hint of a metal ring, perhaps chain mail, can be seen just under the collar of the man's shirt.

The camera no longer shows this man, but another on the other side of the circle of onlookers. "This man is carrying a firearm." Very obviously, for the man has already unholstered the pistol and is lifting it to aim at the woman's attackers. His mouth is frozen open in this scene, as if he is preparing to shout and warn the rest of the crowd to move out of the way.

Next the camera is focused on a woman wearing a colorful set of dress and robes, hands lifted and beginning to glow, her mouth open as if she is chanting some sort of incantation. "This woman here is a spellcaster of some skill," says the off-screen narrator. The camera pans around her to show a spellbook hanging from her belt, as well as an assortment of pouches that likely contain spell components.

"All three of these people, having heard the woman's scream, have stopped immediately to turn and assist her, to save her from her predicament. Let's see what happens."

The camera focuses back on the huddled figure of the woman surrounded by the hoodlums, and the observational pause of the film ceases to put events into motion. Instantly, one can hear two men shouting in unison on the fringes of the crowd. One yells, "Move out of the way!" The other shouts, "Get your heads down!" The crowd expresses a unified gasp, but many of them heed the orders by clearing a path as well as ducking down to their knees.

Then the viewer hears a gunshot and immediately sees one of the five thugs go down. Two more follow their comrade as the swordsman moves in and cuts them down. A fine gray mist spirals up around the remaining two assailants, and the pair of them simply drop to the street as if they had fallen asleep where they had been standing.

The last to hurry into the fray is the uniformed Watchman. He steps over the fallen villains and kneels before the woman, offering her his hand. "Are you all right?" he asks. The woman, though shaken, sniffles and nods, wiping tears from her face. The crowd of onlookers nearest soon consist of the swordsman, the gunman and the spellcaster, who have also made their way closer to ensure that the poor woman is indeed safe and sound.

The dark-haired man moves into the frame himself, coming up behind the woman, amidst the other four protectors of the city. The camera focuses on him, but keeps the others somewhat in the frame as well. "All of these men and woman are just as capable of keeping our streets safe as this fine gentleman in the uniform, but Governor Simon would not have you believe so, Rhy'Din. For at no time during his governorship has he acknowledged nor rewarded them. I plan to change that."

While he is talking, the four saviors have helped the victim to her feet and are murmuring inquiries about her health and whether or not she requires any further assistance, barely audible under the dictation of the man with the black hair, but he pauses to offer the woman a smile and a handkerchief.

"Governor Simon asks how I plan to help this city, and now I am prepared to tell you at least one of my plans. Rhy'Din, it's time for the city's heroes to be recognized. It's time we stop relying solely on a military organization and remember what we are capable of. One need not sign on to protect and serve in order to do those things. After all, many of you capable defenders have other jobs to occupy your time outside of the heroing business.

"Vote for me, Sheridan Driscol, to become your governor this election year, and I promise you that those of you not wearing the uniforms of the city Watch will receive the acknowledgment and recognition you truly deserve. Join me today by helping form the Good Samaritan Militia, by doing what you always do, and be not afraid of doing it any longer. Stand alongside the Watch without fear of interference, but instead with open acceptance and cooperation.

"Remember your roots, Rhy'Din. Do not allow them to be smothered and hidden away, forgotten and coated over with a layer of fear, as Governor Simon would have you do. Be who you are, and be proud of it. Be the hero you were born to be and help keep our city safe. Vote for me, Sheridan Driscol, and I'll see to it that your good deeds do not go unrewarded."

The dark-haired man finishes his speech with a smooth smile, and then turns his attention to the small crowd around him. The Watchman, swordsman, gunman, spellcaster and rescued victim are huddled around each other, speaking softly as the camera slowly zooms backward, taking in more and more of the nameless faces in the crowd. The following words scroll across the screen.

Remember your roots. Vote smart. Vote Driscol.

Then the commercial fades to black and returns the viewer to his or her regularly scheduled programming.