View source for Black Thorn Resistance/Seasons Don't Fear the Reiver

The Panicky Phantom snuck into Jock’s establishment with one thing in mind, deliver the message.  Whatever came out of it was not up to him, but it was an opportunity to broker some peace. And what better time to do it with the lull after Gnul’s demise while a town contemplated the cause of death of two victims caught in the crossfires of ideologies?  

What Yardie understood was desperation. When an adversary lacked the resources or the clout to fight their enemies at the negotiating table, they often took those negotiations to the streets with arms raised.  The time for talking melted away, much like the winter snow would as the warmth of hope and courage brought forth new life.  

Taking in the flickering candles that cast a soft glow, The Blade approached the large counter, left a handful of silvers for the burly, green-eyed reiver bartender, and took a swig of reiver whiskey, hiding his disgust as nose and eyes ran like the Lockshmear River.  He kept his left sleeve tucked in, concealing his spiderweb scar.  Any diplomacy would be lost had Jock or his kin learned he shared a fraternal mark with someone of krolvin lineage.

More reivers entered, observing their surroundings before taking seats around the sturdy round chairs. Before they could realize they had company, Yardie had vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving the generous coins and a black-hilted dagger on the wall. A silver chain with a black thorn dangled from the end of it and a stained parchment had been pinned to the pointy end for curious eyes.

It read:

''To the Reiver Nation,''

''I constructed this missive with the aid of a Dark Elven translator and with the penmanship of my brother, Draelor.  Without him, I fear my limited knowledge of reading and writing might lose the meaning of my words.''

''I start by stating that we share a common interest.  While the intentions of the Barony might seem in good faith, encroaching upon the lands and constructing upon the very soil that you and many others call home has brought great frustration and restlessness to those who inhabit in or around them.  After several visits from your fellow reivers expressing uneasiness and uncertainty, it was only a matter of time before worlds collided. Many others share the same anxieties and hope to combat this inconsiderate act.''

''Near your home, a human coupled, ignoring the warning upon your last visits, met a brutal demise.  The killer had been described as a hidden figure with green eyes wearing krolvin-skinned clothing. Many point to your kin as the culprit, the hue of your eyes, and the choice of garb as clear signs of foul play. Yet, we do not believe an entire society should be held accountable for the actions of a rogue reiver, should he or she be the culprit of this crime.  Furthermore, we do not think there is sufficient proof to draw sentencing. We fear that it is only a matter of time before a hastily, emotionally filled response is given in kind by those wanting revenge or justice as violence begets violence.''

''Because of the rising tide, we wish to talk and offer aid and support.  We offer a firm but peaceful alternative that meets the same concerns head-on without coming to blows.  We had no ill will toward individual settlers, but we will continue to take action and resolve matters peacefully and thoroughly as we share your worries.  Should you wish to discuss matters further, you’ll find that we meet on the Day of the Huntress, at the West Guard Tower on the east end of North Ring Road.  We welcome all voices and hope to resolve these matters as a unified front.  We eagerly await your response.''

''With respect, I remain,''

''Yardie''