Wildfire Riders

Leonard Bannsworth, King's Man and Secretariat of the Stormwind Guilds, listened with patience as his early morning appointment made his case for intervention regarding the trial of one Fells Drachmas, nee Clemens. When his guest, Bricu Bittertongue, who was finely dressed with black breeches, a red silk shirt and a thick, black wool cloak, was finished speaking, Leonard poured himself a glass of vegetable juices and spirits and drank deeply. He held the specially made glass in the fingers of his crooked left hand. He saw the impatience in his guests eyes--well hidden behind proper manners--and decided to offer him the same concoction.

"It helps to balance the humors." he said.

"No thank yeh sir, I've had quite me fill on tea an' coffee earlier. Thank yeh though."

"Very well." He said, and put the decanters down on his desk. When he turned to face his guest, Bannsworth's scorn came close to the line of appropriate manners. "And exactly how many mobs have you killed, Master Bittertongue?"

Bricu kept his temper in check by biting the inside of his cheek. "I don't quite reckon what yer sayin' sir."

"Point being, Bricu, what you are asking me to do is to take those workers of Stormwind--the too slow, sick, angry or young to serve--and enlist in your private war with the Alliance. People get hurt in wars. And mobs, like the one you are asking for, are very hard to kill, sir. Have you managed to that before?"

"Killed a mob? Not a mob..."

"But you've killed." he shook his head, "Master Bittertongue, what you are asking for is far different than killing the leader of some sort of angry gnoll tribe or a brilliant tactical genius. A mob is a beast all its own. While it has nearly as many brains as it has people, it takes on a will of its own. Even if you kill the rabble rouser, you set off a chain of events that you can't possibly predict. It is a monster all its own. A monster full of people who may not have known better. What you are asking for, sir, is for them to be target practice for the watch and Wrynn's guard."

"Ballacks. This is Wrynn's Stormwind, not Prestor's. Folks won't just be rounded up like that for displayin' their displeasure in a civil fashion."

"Kings, dragons and magistrates have one thing in common: They tend to crush those who do not obey their commands. Those folk you ask to do this are at the forefront of it all. All because one of yours was too stupid to cover her tracks. Death has a tendency to help flush out the idiots of this world. No offense sir, but better the stupid die off before they make life more difficult for the clever ones."

"Master Bends..."

"Bannsworth, sir."

"Strewth, yer name is Lenny fuckin' Bends. Yeh owe ap Danwyrith either one huge fuckin' favor, or a bunch o' little ones. Either way, I'm here ta collect. I tried playin' it fuckin' clever with yeh, but when yeh go 'bout callin' someone in the Black an' Red stupid an' better off dead, well... Well that just means that yer manners went straight up yer tackhole an inta yer clever bits."

Bricu noticed that Bends' smile crept up to his eyes for the first time in an hour. "And how is Tarquin? Is he well? Still married is he?"

Bricu rolled a cigarette as his answer.

Bends continued, "My point is the same whether it is from ap D's bruiser or himself. You are asking to make a monster here."

"First, I'm not his bruiser. Yeh can say I'm a friend, lieutenant or just a really faithful employee. Second, we're askin' for yeh ta help with pamphlets an' ta get the bodies out for a number o'protests. No rallies, no parades no pub meetin' under cover o'darkness. The guards may get rough, but everyone that gets hurt--as long as they didn't have it comin'--we'll take care o'em."

"How egalitarian."

"The point is, Lenny, we need yer help. Yeh gonna go back on yer words now?"

Leonard poured himself another vegetable and spirits drink. He swirled the drink less-than-gently in his crippled hand. When he spoke next, he lost his posh accent. "Right yeh daft cunt, 'ere be da deal. Yeh fuckin' wankers get yer shite published at one tenth the rate--'nough ta co'er me expanses yeh ken? Second, folks oo git hurt git thirty silver. I git five silver for 'em. Yeh savvy then?"

"What's this then?"

"Business. That's wot it is. Business. Now step up an be a fuckin' professional or git the fuck outta me district!"

Bricu spat into his hand. Lenny did the same. They shook hands and Lenny found his posh.

"Righto then. have the pamphlet for me by morning. I'll have it out through the Alliance hubs by the Friday edition of the Stormwind Daily."

"By the Daily then? S'not bad."

"Master Bittertongue, I don't think you understand. It will be in the Stormwind Daily."

Bricu whistled low. "Right then squire, I'm off ta find me a wordsmith." He wipes his hand on his breeches. "Pleasure doin' business with yeh."

Lenny Bends finished his cocktail.

"Tell Master ap Danwyrith that he can still call on me any time. Do come again."

Part 2: Manifesto writings

It wasn't often that she could sneak up on her husband--even less like being five months pregnant--but Threnn did it one week after the Drachmas verdict came in. She watched in fascination as her husband stood in front of their window in Dalaran and spoke to an invisible crowd. Occassionally, he would turn and scribble notes of a particularly good turn of phrase.

But in responsibility comes... Bricu paused.

"Fuck it. Now then, where was I... Och, here we go. "The foundation o'the Alliance is not.. this is shite too."

"It's not shit, but what is it for?" threnn asked. Bricu dropped his paper and turned to face his wife.

"Love, how long yeh been there?"

"Long enough to be concerned with what you're writing. What is it?"

"Och, love, its for Fells. I'm writin' a pamphlet 'bout Fells' trial, 'bout the injustice inherit in her trial."

Threnn walked towards the mess of notes and helped him clean it up. "You didn't once mention her name, charges or verdict."

"Aye, cause if I do that, an they figure out what we did, she won't just hang. Folk'll want ta burn her. Its a different battle ta fight."

"And we're going to fight it."

"Aye, damn right we are."

"well then." Threnn stole the rest of his notes, "You speak and make flowery words. I'll help write it down."

Bricu's grin encompassed his entire face-"Yer brilliant love. Yeh know that, right?"

"So they tell me, husband dear. So they tell me."

--


It is not the establishment of laws that define a civilization. It is the practice and process of laws, established by people, that provide some definition to a civilization. Each civilization must decide if they are to consistently follow the laws they have established for the good of all people, or selectively chose and ignore, laws and processes when the are inconvenient to the powers related to the status quo.


too complex!


--


The leaders of a nation of laws cannot bend or break the laws of their homeland for their own gain--be it personal, political or monetary. \\\

Bleh

--

What is the problem? The process. The corruption inherit in the process of Fells' prosecution. Focus on this

discussion
--

The laws of the land and the rules of the market are similar in purpose: Both ensure that

---


One cannot take the function of laws away from the process of enforcing these same laws. When a law is created, whether it is a reflection of the character of the people, or an Alliance struck between two races. or more, of people, the process of enforcing said law--by the watch, a magistrate, a trial, trial by combat, a jury--must be consistent from the peasant to the King himself. Our Alliance finds its strength in bringing together many people from different lands. Our civil weakness lies in the inconsistency of our laws. Should Kaldorei be prosecuted under Dwarven law in Stormwind? Should humans be tried in gnomish technical courts for violating laws of Exodar? Our legal system is as feudal, flawed and doomed as the Old Eastern Kingdoms. For our Alliance to prosper, our laws must be consistent from continent to continent, city to city, person to person. The same options available to the powerful must be made available to the poor.

Law that is inconsistent is as grave a crime as murder.

This includes how one is prosecuted for breaking the law. Solicitors for the state, from Kirin Tor academics to Kaldorei spirit councils, have to follow the same laws regardless of jurisdiction. That we should not take the law into our own hands and kill those who we believe have wronged us is a common thread throughout our Alliance. That there is to be some for of punishment and retribution is another commonality. But today in our Alliance there are those of us who profit from the these trials and violations of law. The profit from the fines, fees, taxes and compulsory bribes that our flawed legal system uses. The courts of law have become a polite and civil method of robbing people of life, liberty and property.

Innocent and guilty alike are now the targets of vindictive, powerful people. Whether they live in crystal towers, floating cities, world trees or citadels of stone, the powerful are enforcing the law subjectively to enforce the status quo completely. The rule of law, the balancing factor for wizards, kigns and commoners, now rests solely in the hands of the rich and connected.

Every individual of our Alliance who has the misfortune of encountering our legal system is being punished in the same way: Vindictively. The established powers have made it clear: If one cannot get a conviction in one capital city, they will move their process to more friendly environs. Magisters from Dalaran will look to the laws of Ironforge. Tribunals from the Exodar will move to Stormwind. Druids from Darnassus will conduct their trials in the taverns of old town. They will do this, prosecuting the guilty and falsely accused alike to prevent the rule of law. This convoluted process is destroying the nature of the open and fair trials we, as free and law abiding people, have become accustomed to. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow: We are no longer governed by laws, but by powerful and petty individuals who care more for themselves than the common good.

We are no longer living in Prestor's Alliance. We have had a resurgence of law with the return of our good king Wrynn. While he leads us into battle against forces too terrible to mention, we must preserve the traditions and the spirit of the law we have had since the foundation of our Alliance. The rule of law, from prosecution to sentencing, must be consistent and objectively processed regardless of where the crime occurred or who is prosecuting the matter.

Such prosecutions, selectively handled and maliciously prosecuted, are as despicable as treason. The purveyors of this systematic destruction of the rule of law believe themselves, and their concerns, to be more pressing than the daily trials of civilian in war time. Any conviction stemming from this vindictive process is violates the freedoms that our Alliance is supposed to maintain. These convictions must be over turned. The system is too flawed to produce any fair results. And those individuals who continue to maintain that they are superior to the law must be humbled by it.

~Mister B
--

Part 3: Filthy fucking journalists


The article where the pamphlet is found

Drachmas to be Hanged
by S. Colman

Fells Drachmas, formerly of Elwynn, has been found guilty by a magistrate from Ironforge of the murder of one Morgnir Hammerhead, former Ironforge guardsman. Mrs. Drachmas' solicitor, the esteemed Shael O'Connough, a member of high standing within the Order of the Rose, released the following statement: "It's now or never." Solicitor Jordan Krellakar, himself highly esteemed by justices and magistrates in Stormwind, Dalaran and Ironforge, released the following statement, "This is a win for both the people and proper law enforcement. Vigilantism should not be, and will not be, tolerated regardless of a person's, or their friends, standing."

Miss Goldenmead, widow to Mogrnir Hammerhead, had the following to say, "Despite the interference of the human lawyers, dwarven justice has been served. I will only say that if the entire processed had been kept behind closed door, we could have avoided all the rabble rousing both lawyers partook in."

It was these fears of an unruly public that led to the closed door reading of the verdict. Magistrate Olaff Stonecutter, in another highly unusual move, switched the reading of the verdict from the House of Justice to City Hall Center. Additional guards from Stormwind and Ironforge were on hand to provide added security.

Mrs. Drachmas has been sentenced to hang in, but further details have yet to be released by the public. She will leave behind her husband, Laurus Drachmas, and her adopted daughter, Precosia Drachmas.