A young boy enters the offices of the Oracle, bearing a rather plain looking piece of paper in his right hand. Looking somewhat uneasy, he crosses to the front desk. Uncharacteristically, he simply drops the paper on the front desk and scurries off, not stopping to flirt with the various office girls, as is his wont, almost as if he were following some rather specific and immutable directive. The paper slowly flutters down to the surface of the desk revealing its message to any who pass by:


To the people of Rhydin:

First, the messenger who delivered this is not part of the group nor of the campaign written about herein. He is but a simple lad performing a duty for which he has been well-paid. We ask that no recriminations be set upon him.

Second, we are not madmen. Though the Oracle may have become accustomed to manifestos from beasts such as the Zodiac, slavers, and others; we do not believe ourselves to be as such. We merely feel it is the best venue to share our message.

It is no mistake that we mention the slavers above. The words in the last edition of the Oracle are most telling. That he can speak of such horrors so openly and in such a public manner is at the root of Rhydin's problem. Public collarings and forced enslavement have increased exponentially here. It approaches a time ill-remembered when the SA and the Houses ran unchecked. Such cannot be again.

Many fight against the slavers and their abomination. Our group included. But it is often a losing battle. The Guard have no power to stop slaving and never seem to be around even when the unwilling are taken. They cannot be entirely to blame. The law is an ass. The shadowy government of Rhydin allows these horrors. There is little prohibition against slavery in this unenlightened land.

But then there are others, ostensibly good people, who would remain apathetic in the face of unspeakable acts. Those who witness the public collarings and the violence yet do nothing. Those who hear and read the words of slavers as they rejoice in the enslavement of sentient beings and neither feel nor do anything. Those who avert their gaze at such monstrous acts until and unless it involves someone they know and love. Those who make no effort to even rail against it. It is to you that we give warning.

It was once said, by a Cleric of another place and Time that, ""If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality."

And now, the neutral and apathetic shall begin to appreciate and share in the oppression. Our actions shall no longer be saved for the slaver and those who would support it. Any who would stand idly by and allow public collarings to take place will no longer be safe. Those who would turn a deaf ear to the cries of the enslaved in the public square, within the walls of the Red Dragon Inn, and on the streets of Rhydin shall find such inaction both unwise and unhealthy. If morality does not drive you... If common decency does not drive you... let fear drive you. The battle shifts to include you and yours. Choose both your allies and your foes wisely. There shall be no outsiders.

Nytefall
The darkness that precedes the dawn...
The time of fear and uncertainty....

-At the end of the message appears an icon, a sigil of sorts:
A dagger, entwined by a rose - both encircled, as if bound, by a chain. At the bottom, the chain is broken as if pierced by the point of the dagger...

When Gavilean finally returned he visited the bulletin board, as usual, to see the latest threats, diatribes, and plain silly rantings.

Gav saw the latest one by Nytefall and just had to laugh.

"Des!" he called out to his wife. "Do you believe this? These big brave people are not going to attack the slavers, but rather those who appear to be neutral by not attacking the slavers. So, doesn't attacking those who are not attacking the slavers put Nytefall on the side of the slavers? If I were a slaver and I read this, I'd laugh my butt off."

Dying laughing. "Des, these people are total morons. The idiocy of these vigilante groups is absolutely mind boggling. I wonder how many public collarings Nytefall has stopped? Let's all harm the defenseless for not opposing those who are strong."

He pinned the letter back up under the heading that read "Idiots of Rhy'Din".

Lyndra heard Des down the hallway, but hadn't heard clearly nor did she think anything of it. As time moved on, she heard Gav's laughter from down the hallway. She poked her head out into the hall, wondering what that was all about having only caught partial phrases. She made a note to check the boards he'd been down around.

As she left for the day, she noticed the first note and then saw the second one. She wasn't laughing, though, and she wasn't saying anything. She did, however, sigh deeply, and those big 'ol hazel green hues gazed warily around, delicate brow arched with worry. She quickly left after turning in her own report and glancing over a few others that had been turned in as well.

Sharon is running late, she?s got a deadline and no story! It is a reporter?s worst fear manifest. Sure, there is a lot to write about, yet facts must be checked before publication and time for that has passed.

Pausing by the bulletin board she notices the people of Rhy?Din letter and a smile perks away the intense frown of utter panic. It would do, for a start. There are two other major topics she can potentially address without having to wait on the Fact Checkers. She?s got to get busy though if she wants to make the end of the day deadline!

Sharon wanders over to her desk and gets to work.

The cowgirl Queen had been delighted to see her beloved husband. She had ran over to fling herself into his arms for hugs and kisses of greeting after he had moved all her pins then put the letter back up. Then they had left for the day so she could catch up on all the news from back at Westridge and for him to catch up on the news here and see their daughter.

The very next day however it seemed fate deemed Des to relive the morning before. Although granted things were different at home as she had awakened in her beloved Gavilean?s arms which made for a very good mood to start the day in and the steaming mug of caf? mocha in hand didn?t hurt one bit either as she came through the door of The Oracle offices humming a jaunty tune.

Right up until she spied another letter. Two in such a short period of time usually didn?t bode well in The Oracle offices it had been proven time after time by the Zodiac no less. Her steps weren?t nearly as light as she approached the desk and picked it up with a look on her face that was just icky.

Straight to the bottom navy blue eyes went and sure enough there was that same no count signature as the last one ?Nytefall?. Des let out an audible huff and stomped a foot as her gaze tracked back upwards reading the letter backwards. ?Passive supporters bein? warned. Active supports done away with no doubt. Slaves released and I bet they just turned ?em loose without teaching ?em how to care for themselves or givin? ?em a place to live now that they are free which means some other Master or Mistress that could very well be twice as cruel is now gonna snap ?em right up off the streets since released slaves never know any better and never know how to take care of themselves that I have ever seen and I have seen many of them and taught many of them my very own self! Gah I?m gonna kill this here Nytefall person myself if I ever come across ?em. Idjits! Runnin? around upsettin? the balance of things in town. And if they have killed one single solitary Slaver friend of mine they is definitely on my list!!!?

She took the letter and crumpled it up into a tiny little ball and bore down on it as hard as she could with both hands. Then she squeezed it some more and twisted and stomped her foot and muttered and cussed then uncrumpled it and tossed it back on the desk since even as mad as she was she did realize it wasn?t addressed to her personally so the others might want to read what was now a mangled barely legible letter.

Then she spotted the other letter and crinkled her nose. Her gaze went straight to the bottom and not recognizing the glyph she shook her head and backed away from the note. She wasn?t even going to touch the paper. You just never knew what to expect or where or how so off she went to the refreshment table where she picked up two forks then back to the note.

Des used extreme caution with her make shift tongs as she maneuvered the note to slip one fork beneath it then used the other fork on top of it to squeeze it between them. She managed this without letting it touch her skin in any way, shape, or form then to the door she headed. She used her rump to open the door then backed out it with the note still held between her forks.

She checked the direction of the breeze then stepped around the side of the building and carefully laid the note on the ground where it couldn?t blow up and touch her by accident. She also left the now what she considered contaminated forks with the possibly contaminated note. ?Dang nab it! Where?d I leave my coffee? I got to get to work or I am gonna be late and that is not good.?