Act I, Part XVIII: The Seeds of Revolution

By Gandosa Arobar, Daughter of Miner Arobar

The tax season is getting closer and the tension grows more and more palpable with each passing day as talks of outright striking of all things are becoming more than just hushed discussions behind closed doors, but earnest debates within the Union Hall and I find myself more and more worried about the coming weeks. The air is alive with the winds of change and I see the hope I give them when I give my speeches, but I can’t help but feel a pit in the bottom of my stomach as I think about what will come. So much death. So much bloodshed. The streets of Ald’ruhn will be stained red forever when we take this city from the Council, but what choice do we have anymore? The Council has forgotten its obligations to its people, but they certainly haven’t forgotten that it is their people who give them power. It is their people who allow them to govern. And it is ultimately their people, the true patriots of the House like these miners, who will remind them of that.

Still though, there is worry in my heart that I am leading these men and women down the wrong path. I look at them and these are good, honest people who have spent their entire lives trying to be just that and now their leaders are turning their back on them. They are being left to rot in their time of need and because they choose to try to keep the things they’ve spent their whole lives working towards, so many of them are going to die. So many of them will leave their homes for the last time, not really knowing it’s the last time, and why? Because they have to. Because they don’t have a choice and I hate that. I hate every bit of the situation that my people have been forced to and I hate that I have to choose between my family and my people, but a Redoran’s life is sacrifice and these men and women—they’re true Redorans, more than any fetcher on that Council besides my uncle could ever hope to be.

But I have to be strong, even in these grim times, because I am all these people have. Who else has heard their cries as I have? Who else is willing to sacrifice everything to lead them? Who else? I just find myself hoping with every fiber of my being that I’m good enough. I hope that when we begin our fight to take this city that Boethiah will smile upon us. I hope a lot of things. I really do, but I guess most of all, I hope that things end up alright.

Boethiah, please hear my prayer and watch over my people in the coming months. They are already being tested and they are showing they have true grit, but they, a few hundred egg miners, can not take on the full might of the Redoran Army alone. I beg of you, aid us in the coming conflict and you will not be forgotten as you have been by so many.

I swear to you, Prince of Plots, deliver us from the bondage we suffer at the hands of the Council and we will serve you in this life and the next. It is all I ask. Just provide us with the insight we need to take this city from the Council and we will be indebted to you eternally, I swear it.

-Gandosa Arobar, Revolutionary