Written in a cryptic manner, the following notice finds its way to most places of notice within the cities of Underport and Cordor - appropriately translated. Despite the attempts of removal by Black Caravan Emissaries; they just don't cease to crop up.

What it is to be Vain.

Vanity is such an interesting term and a splendiforous trait to tbe possessed by but the mightiest of creatures. Whether you human or orc, dragon or fiend, man or woman; we all suffer in different ways from this glorious flaw granted to us by the mere gift of sentience. Free will. Freedom of the mind.

We all worry about our slice of the realms, what we believe we're entitled to, what we believe is ours and what we believe should be ours. We fight for it, we live for it, and inevitably we die for it. The farmer feels his pride over his crops, and when threatened he strives only harder, perhaps even irrationally to protect them. The adventurer feels that in his travelling, his chaotic musings and his curious wanderings he is deserving of all that he finds within the depths of the most sacred halls. The merchant believes in his heart of hearts that every coin, even possession, is his; and to take that away would be such a loss that he would suffer anything else to protect it.

And yet as the world comes to an end, and as we all inevitably pass on from this world, their true meaning comes to exist; nothing. But the most powerful accomplishment, but the most proud actions or possessions of any mortal upon these realms will be invariably lost. Yet we protect them to the point of ending our own lives prenaturally.

The Eternal Order bears their pride over their deity sovereign, for his word is their law and their devotion to it, their eternal, lawful followship of his doctrine their most prized accomplishment. Yet when it is threatened, they react fiercely, with pride, with zeal, with so much to protect their belief of what is theirs that they may see fit to risk everything else to hold it dear. Where morality, where being just and finding a way for good to prevail; has come second to their personal pride, their self-thought integrity, their vanity, to which point but a thousand people could have faded in the wake of their percieved self-worth.

The Amian Crafters and Traders Federation suffers but the same, fatal, flaw. They believe that every coin they have earned, every prized item of worth that has travelled through their hands, and every political contact they have formed is theirs and theirs alone to behold; and their quest exists only to acquire more. When that is threatened they likewise go to such means to validate it, to prove its worth, to prove their ownership upon it; that they would risk everything else just to save their face. Their vanity and percieved right towards coin and financial prowess would drive them even to forget their morality, to fund but the most unsavoury of trades if only to acquire their own slice of the golden nugget.

And perhaps the Black Caravan, ourselves, are most guilty of such a sin. Every coin we have earned, and every ounce of blood we have spilt, is foolishly believed to be our birthright to something greater; whether it be Boss Sil'yer's belief in it being her right to financial dominion, or but the crew's belief that they are in their right to protect their lives excessively, overbearingly, to the point where even the faintest glimmer of morality no longer exists; for their sovereign right to live unthreatened is but the greatest thing for any to be proud of.

This trait of sentience is one that so many people ignore, they allow it to rule them, and to obscure their view to a point of insanity. But of course, I must ask; which of these three parties shall first percieve their folly and work towards not only setting their pride and vanity aside, but to look upon the bigger picture, to realize how the world shall unfold in not only years or decades, but centuries, millenia.

Who will be the one to put their pride aside for what is right, and who will be the one to allow their path to continue astray, and to allow but the most powerful of flaws to overcome them?

Some times in a game of chess; one must sacrifice the most powerful, versatile piece - the queen - if only to protect what is truly more valuable; the king.


Sincerely
________
Black Caravan

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Mostly Retired

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Weston Carter ~Salandran~ : Retired
Carters Leave Amia

*Darthion, having returned from a most likely gory manhunt, somehow manages to get a hold of one of the notices found in Underport. He reads it idly, and then tosses it away.*

"And I who thought those cupcakes actually had some balls..."

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Darthion Illys

Join the Banites!

ilivarra reads the notice in Underport and frowns darkly. "What in the nine hells does this drivel have to do with the Underdark? Surface Kivvil and Rivvil best stop graffittii'ing our beloved caverns with this Iblith!"

*with that she tears the notice she reads down.*

Not long after, a shadowy figure is seen tearing all such filthy notices down in Underport.

She can be heard saying. "Filthy surfacers should keep their propoganda out of our city!"

*she feeds many of the notices to the slime in the slime caverns nearby.*

Not long after, Driarry can be seen walking by, she stops to read a scrunched up notice, one that had been torn down and scratches her head.

"Mez notz sure what dis meanz but it very vague and cryptic."

*with that, she pockets it, to be used as loo paper for later*.

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Illithira Frostmaiden (Snow Elf) Guardian of the Frostfell
Elithiel Issatheerin (Shadow Elf) She who Lurks
Isolia Oussea'lylth (Sun Elf) Apprentice Wizardess

* man who had taken one of the first notices, pays handsomly a scribe to recopy them and put them back up after the other ones are torn down*

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I play
Crystalitharion:At the core, a beast.
Velkyn Skikudis:Merchant of the "Laughing Skulls"
Owen Belmont-Long vanished Archmage and savior of the clockwork plane of Mechanicus.
Octavia Celestyr-Soldier of Doom

*A figure walks out of the winds and reads the papers posted as he tears it down rolling it up and walking back into the winds*

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Braller Thunderbeard: The Dwarven mini-Jesus with a porn star name. Blasphemous.
Dante: "He is likely to heal you as he is likely to smite you."

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Dwagin [Duh-wa-GIN] N. - 1a. Small and cute thingum, particularly fond of four legged scaled creatures of the metalic and chromatic varieties.

-Extraordinarily ordinary in the mostest of ways.

*a blonde elven male in heavy armor pass by the notes, read, re-read think a long time and wisper*
..Then who's your king?
*and walk away, heading to the cordorian archives*

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By Jaydn