Solo Preaching the Good Word in the Bad City

[Alric Wilmot]

70th of Fall 513 AV Alric walked along the streets of Ravok with a wreariness in his step and doll in his pocket. These last few days had been very satisfying, Animation was an amazing art. But it had grown weary on him lately, and instead he had turned to other matter. That matter being faith, and his own personal devotion to Ionu. Though he often acted in ways he thought were pleasing to the deity, he wondered if he had missed the point. He played pranks, plotted schemes, and strived to rid the world of its harsh reality. But he wondered if maybe he was only doing these things to achieve his own goals? Was he really devoted to the Lady of Illusion and Lord of Mischief, or was he merely using his "faith" as a blanket to ward off ideas he did not like? In short, was he a zealot, or a heretic? He stroked his chin, thinking on his quandary. He passed by many characters of questionable character along the way, all of which stared at him in not so subtle ways. He was wearing his new cloak, the one gifted to him by Miro, and it provided a very large target to thieves. It appeared made of silver, and was in truth even more valuable. A cloak crafted from alchemy, with the properties of both steel and cloth. It offered protection true, but at the cost of his speed and mobility. In truth, Alric had avoided wearing it for precisely these reasons. Until today. It was part of Alric's test. He had believed that Ionu had sent him here to the heart of evil, to begin his plans. The discovery of Ravokian families being in positions of power only reinforced that notion when he himself wished to reestablish his own family. A system was already set up here for him to take advantage of. What use would it be to set up in Alvadas? He could gain all the riches in the world and it would mean nothing in the city of illusion. But here in the city of lies? He would be rooted so greatly in every venture that not only would the city be effectively controlled by him, but he could make use of the resources to move to the next city, and achieve the same. But of course, the real question in all of this was if Ionu truly had given him her blessing to go through with his plans, or if it was all mere coincidence. Hence today, where he would invite a thief to attack him, and then use the opportunity to incapacitate the thief and preach on the power of appearance to the Ravokian crowds, and share with them. If he successfully proselytized, then he would know that Ionu was watching over him. If he was killed...then he would successfully remove the question of his faith. He did not cherish dieing, but he did not want to live if it was not his god's will he was carrying out. He took in a deep breath before closing his eyes and concentrating. He was inviting danger, and he knew it. It was foolish and beyond stupid. Which was why he had made sure Miro was not here to see it. It went against everything that Alric preached, but... he needed to know. Did Ionu approve of his plots? He spread his influence outward, and began searching the crowd for a good threat. But then he stopped himself. If he was allowed to make the decision of who attacked him, then he may unconsciously choose someone he thought he could handle. Instead he decided to spread general emotions to everyone in the street, everyone would feel his touch and know his influence. Everyone, would have the opportunity to attack him. He knew he'd have to push a little harder than normal since he was now a citizen and the rabble would fear retaliation from the Ebonstryfe. He spread emotions of greed, envy, covetousness. He sent thoughts out too, to all of the people. That man is so small and frail, I could take that cloak so easily! He sent out images of money, he sent out urges and desires of gold and silver. He did everything in his power to make every eye turn on him and question their morality. It did not take long for someone to decide that he had little to none. Alric was grabbed from behind by a strong sturdy hand, and yanked to the cobblestones. Alric fell heavily on his behind, and looked up to see who the weakest man had been. Unsurprisingly, a weak morality did not always correlate with a weak body. The man who had pulled him down was burly and built, though he already grey in his beard. He wore a wide brimmed hat with several patches, and his clothes were not much better than rags. Alric knew then that it was not only greed that motivated this man, but need as well. He felt a twinge of sympathy for his attacker, right before the man punched his face and demanded the cloak. "Alright you pansy, hand over the petchin' cloak and I won't beat you bloody." Alric almost felt sorry for what he was about to do. Alric screamed loudly and piercingly, and tapped into the power of his mark as he did so. The scream became a powerful, resonating, and screech like. The man covered his ears, and gave a pitiful moan of his own. The others on the streets, men, women, children and all collapsed to the ground holding their ears. Alric rose from the ground, and ceased his scream. He waited until the crowd opened their eyes, and as expected turned toward him. He had but one mark of illusion, and could only affect one sense at a time. But he could switch between them, and that was all he really needed to do. He tapped his mark with his middle and pointer finger in a gesture that was purely a mnemonic device, and reached out to the man with is hand. He yelled "Fire!" as he sent the sensation of burning alive onto the poor man. His howls, though they were nowhere near as loud as Alric's, seemed all the more terrifying as they echoed in the streets. Alric did not know if the people of Ravok were desensitized to spectacles such as these, so sent waves of fear, terror, and dread into them. This would be a speech unlike any of them had ever witnessed before. Alric let the illusion go, and the man fell to the ground exhausted from pain and yelling. Alric let him lie there, and looked over the masses. They were in awe, he thought, or terrified. One or the other, though maybe a mixture of both. He called upon the power of his mark once more, this time to enhance his voice. "People of Ravok! Listen to me, and listen well. I bring you tidings of great joy! For you are loved by a god that you do not know. He enjoys your duality, he finds delight in your deceptive appearance! But you do not know him. You attack his faithful, as you attack your own faithful. You live in a reality that is cold and hard, and wretched. But you do not let that hamper your enjoyment of life, you do not let that destroy you. You have built a city on lies, that serves the god of lies. But what else could be expected? The world is cruel and wicked, so why not your god? But I say to you, now! Ionu the god of illusions is not bound to our reality! Embrace the illusion as you have done, but give glory to the one who created it, the one who sustains it! Give praise to the Lord of Illusions who will cast down the wretched world we live in and bring in a new age of illusions and bliss. You are the lucky ones, living through this moment in the very city it will begin. I was gifted by him, as you see. I was attacked, as you see. I overtook him as you see! Even the chaon needs time to curse his opponent. But I did it with naught but a second to spare! Alric looked upon the masses, and saw their emotions cloud over. They were angry, most of them. The children booed him, and the women called curses. He had known this would happen, really. Ravok was a city wholly devoted to Rhysol, and what he had just done was illegal by their laws. He let his influence shrink, and removed any trace if his djed from their minds. He had no influence over them any more, and to keep it up was wasteful. He continued. "Rhysol keeps this city safe it is true. But he hardly keeps you safe. Each of you fears a knife in the dark, a late payment on your mortgage and the thieving families and their greed. Debauchery runs through your streets, and wicked thoughts entertain your hearts whenever a new face is seen in your city. I do not blame you. I can not blame you. But the world is changing, and you will witness this in your life time. I can promise you that." With that, Alric tapped into his mark yet again, and altered the sense of sight, removing himself from the street. The people looked startled, and glanced all about themselves to see if the stranger was hiding somewhere. Alric smiled then, and saw a line of men in Ebonstryfe uniform appear from the shadows of an alley that he had had his back turned to. He had just become invisible at the right time it seemed. The people, though angry, seemed still shaken by Alric's appearance. His speech had been too short to have any lasting impact, or change any real world views, he knew. But in truth that was not its purpose. He had painted a large target on his forehead, and had survived. Alric's smile couldn't get any bigger as he left the street by using the alley the skulking Ebonstryfe had. Ionu had not let him die, today was a good day.