*Writen in the same writing style as the Malarite opinion paper. This is written in fine ink on hemp parchment*

The Rise

What im doing I believe is right and thats all that counts. Theres underdogs in this time, low ranking surfs, the poor wretched charity cases, the ones that wish only for a savior, a lending hand. I'm seeking to only find away with-in myself to give them that hope, i'll share my words of wisdom, pay there way into a high understanding of belief, teach them of love, good, friendship, togetherness; of the lower class. We must band together and fight the quilty of the upperdogs, we have the power and men, quantity, over quility any day. When our voices our loud enough it shell we heard like a rape victim crying from the alley, we're the ones suffering from the brutal assult of mental intercourse. Their mind f@#king us into submission, taking away the freedom and pinning us down. We can not take it anymore! They may have the reasources, the knowledge and know how. But we have passion, emotions, more purpose we know what we're doing is right. Give us a reason to only bring you down to our level, and turn this intrusion around. Then will slit the throat let there false words bleed into the streets and the pus of there lies run through the gutters to their demise. The odjects they used will be evidence againt them so there Gods can see what they done is injustise.

The upperdogs, with there followers being lead like sheep, only believing in their agendas becasue they know their on the side thats winning. Its easy to choose your fate when they tell you, you have no other choice but to believe in their words, fame, glory, money, lies, and charm. Oh you sick pitiful fool, leaning on the shoulder of what is your quote unquote government/ religion, holding the hand that holds you down. Kiss the breath of lies that shackle you with their egos. Break the bondage of what ties you to there mind. Listen to your heart and tear down the walls of the conscience driven orgasum of ideals. We our dreamers, lets dream together. Make your illusions reality and reality are lives. Kick out the politicians, religious fanatics, and the Gods that want to only give you something in return with your sacrifice. The Gods and Goddes that give freely without wanting anything in return our the true Gods and Goddes that shell we keep. Mother natrue gives freely, take her. And she shell take you. The whores waiting for their dues to be paid with prayers, they can only sit and wait for all I care. In their paradise holding on to their lies they fill you with. The politicians only care about their bank accounts and getting richer off "you". They never done anything for me, or you, and you. Lower the idols and burn them with glee. Stomp on the ashes of bigotry, and guards when they disagree, lend me your hands but with out violence we shell use words. Let them hear our voices finally beheard. We don't need them anymore. They need us, they need us more then we need them.

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"It's not art unless it upsets, or inspires someone"

"Do you know we are ruled by T.V."
-Jim Morrison, An American Prayer

Walking past one of these postings a Sharessin priestess takes pause to read it as she does for each new one she sees. Such anger in these words... it is a pity she sighs, shaking her head sadly as she departs.

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Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming

Voronwer stares at the one posted in Winya for an hour or so, trying to figure out what the hell he's trying to say.

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Remember when I knew a boxer, baby

If you want to be a human, go to Cordor, and keep your sorry, Malarite-simpering self out of Winya. You are no elf, you should not be here. Go be with your shortlived companions, and when one of your darling puppydog friends eats your face, let's hear you bleat your "enlightened" nonsense then.

Ianthe Siana
Proudly Ar'tel-Quessir.


The blonde wizardess slaps that up, and stalks off, her otherwise lovely face set in a snarl of disgust, as she bitches about "dhaerrow being let into our city by the score!".

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Aly'dra Zau'ana: Priestessish Of Eilistraee
Danika Nefzen: Druid of the Earthmother
Delia Am'Anodel: Paladin of Torm

*Considering the fact that Malarites are banned from Kohlingen by law, there is little chance that any of the notices would appear anywhere within the city limits.

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Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."
Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"

*Mela Bendt, visiting winya in a lovely dark blue leaf pattern dress, eyes over the notice and thinks for a moment before taking out a quill and some very fine parchment*

Dear Sir,

You list no actual incidents or offenders. You merely weave a general accusation that, to summarize your message, anyone in a place of power is misusing the power, rank, and/or office they have been given. Systems aren't perfect, surely, but they are put in place to help the majority of people. Although, I feel while positioning reason against this post will not be taken by the poster, it is my hope the readers will take it with them. This post speaks nothing of actual corruption, but rather a hatrid for government, religion, and order of all sorts. Please, do not buy into this poorly constructed slander page, but rather take a look around and help root out actual corruption where it may stand. To state it again, one would not burn a garden because of a single weed, the same approach should be taken towards government. Uproot the weeds and let the flowers florish.

Sincerly,
Lady Mela Bendt.
*a family crest is stamped below*

[/quote]

*Is not a Malarite thats posting*

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"It's not art unless it upsets, or inspires someone"

"Do you know we are ruled by T.V."
-Jim Morrison, An American Prayer

Mina would see a notice in Cordor and take one down. She rolls it up and walks on quickly.

Seeing the notice in the Dale Pilineth Rolls her eyes. "Pretty much the whole isle is run by several democracies, people elect these 'upper dogs' you complete moron.

Several doodles are drawn in the margins of the notice in Bendir. Multicolored faces in oddly shaped hats encircle the text leering out of the paper with googly eyes and lolling tongues. The mouths showing grins, frowns, smirks, and little "O's" of silent surprise or screams. The quality of the doodles seems to be somewhat lacking in skill, much like that of a child wich lends to it's innocent lunacy. If looked at closely, one might notice in the bottom right hand corner is particularly odd shaped face. With it's long and narrowish shape combined with it's funny hat of five bumps descending in size from left to right, it seems to resemble a footprint.

On a trip to Bendir Erelkacha pauses to try and read the notice though the defacement then snickers and shakes her head. Then she pauses and scribes across the top of the notice in bright ink before buying her bread and heading on her way. They would read as follows:

Words of the faithful of Cyric

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Eli Hodgewall <{/,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Sven <=={o===========>
Qeelak \ | / ,