The Time is Ripe!

Some know me as Jakem Ryshien others simply as The Watcher. I hail from Westar same as my cousin Bartholomew.   I have been in Falton since the Roamans first showed their swords.  I knew Roam’s intentions as soon as I laid eyes on their Imperator. How? Because I once lived in a town Roam embraced, and now it lies in the cold grip of the Empire.  My history taught me to be suspect of their wish for ‘the well being of Falton’. Yes I’ve heard their lies; yes I’ve seen their ‘improvements’.

As it began to unfold, there were those in town that wanted the Roamans out and were willing to do something about it. They rebelled and tried to regain what had been lost. I was in that great battle. I fought hard alongside my brothers and my cousin, but it was hopeless.  I fled for a season, for my wounds to heal.  But, as seems to be the way of my path, I returned to Falton, or New Falton as the camp outside the town was now called.

I watch again as Roam promised technology and advancement and order. But what price did they require? Freedom. Yes they mightn’t of mentioned it, but if you looked closely you could see it — the shipments of weapons and the arrival of troops.  They were in pursuit of our Freedom.

How did their grip tighten further?   I was there when the Roamans signed the treaty with the Woodren trading company.  I was there when the Roamans  decided to tax the roads entering Falton.  And yes, I was in the there when the town officials had a banquet to decide the fate of Falton. I saw the poisoned cup of peace the Roamans offered.  I saw when the Sheriff showed resistance to the Roamans’ offer, a dagger passed from the hand of the Imperator to Captain. Beauregard.  What that dagger’s purpose was we may never know, thanks to the Sheriff realizing that sometimes it’s better to wait for a new opportunity. Time and again I saw the Roamans demonstrating that they were willing to do whatever it took to suppress those in opposition.

But now? Now fellow Faltonians, we have a chance to toss off the bonds that the Roamans have tied. The time is ripe my brothers. We have trained. The Roamans offered tournaments in hopes that we would be better suited for service in their army. Let us show them the mistake they made. The time is ripe my brothers.  I urge you to sharpen your swords.  Let us unite and stand at the back of our brother and fight that which he cannot.   Let us rise up, united as one town, one army, and one people.  The time is ripe!