I've been left no choice, but to submit my writing to the arenas. The story will continue as planned, and updates posted in a timely manner.
If you'd like, vote for the story at this link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=100427211
Constructive criticism is needed, and I'd like to see your opinions!
And now we begin......
Here's your scenario: Just recently an imperious and selfishly tyrannical female governor has been overthrown. The ends fit the means, as was her philosophy. She was suspected of killing her brother-in-law, sister, half-brother, nephew, and an entire child-gang numbering an excess of thirty, who served quietly as her minions.
Her Lord Provost (a regional police chief of sorts) wasn't any better. On the far end of the Flowershop District, there was a platform built specifically to make examples of those who were tried and executed by the governor. In times of peace, the hideously tortured bodies usually were plotters, serial murderers, serial rapists, arsonists, and thieves who used up their four pardons.
For thieves, their first arrest includes a tattoo on the left hand, their second arrest results with another tattoo on the right hand, third arrest has a branding on their forehead, fourth arrest (which is rare) has the offending hand lobbed off. Fifth, well, they had their chances.
In the past few months (her reign lasting nearly three years), the governor became increasingly deluded and paranoid. The city dwelt on the brink of mass riots. The scale tipped slightly as her wildly violent attention turned to the nobility. When she tortured and executed the youngest son of a famously just and generous archdutchess, chaos erupted.
The local police was all but wiped out, tenements and mansions burned alike, looters preyed on businesses, public servants fled or were found and let loose among angered citizens, and the governor's few remaining relatives and loyal nobles were shamelessly bludgeoned, torn, or burned to death.
A foreign, former mercenary freed a mistress he'd adored but lived in anguish with at her thinly-disguised distrust and revulsion. Among the crowds, he'd changed for the better, finding what little love, loyalty, bravery, and justice there could be found among the frightened and enraged people. His sins were literally cleansed by fire, knives, ice, citrus artillery, and loyally shed blood. He found the trust and support among citizens a ruler could only dream of, and likely never accomplish except by self-sacrafice.
In all hearts, dwells a passion for order and security. He gathered friends among thief lords, slaves, merchants, domestic servants, politicians, nobles, beggers, artisans, tax collectors, gypsies, bartenders, housewives, weavers, seamstresses, and coopers, from all backgrounds and ingrained prejudices or loyalties, overthrew the Provost Guard, House Guard, her personal guards, and finally skimmed his sword against the governor's throat.
Imprisoning her and placing her on Suicide Watch, the man of new birth began a reconstruction, delaying the acceptance of any title until his own two hands could find nothing left to be righted. His adopted brothers kindly oversaw restoration of tax houses, businesses, taverns, communities, guilds, schools and public meetinghouses as their friend found all manners of buildings to be mended or rebuilt.
Eventually, he couldn't divert the clamoring of good-wishers, the insatiably curious, and messengers of distant provinces, and accepted his new title of governor. Governor Tanner Stansell donned clean tunic and breeches, ascended a rude makeshift platform, accepted a scepter/staff of justice, quickly thanked the citizens, attend a festival, and promptly mounted the staff on the wall, washed his hair, and went to sleep.
The staff remains mounted in his office, to the left of his desk, his sword (for protection, and other than practice hasn't seen any use) mounted to the right. He commonly walks about, leaving his guards constantly fretting about his safety. He talks with merchants (who in all matters of speaking, know just about everything about everything happening), and mingles with anyone. But for the chain around his neck with his new crest, any stranger would label him a simple, uncommon man. They would otherwise sniff at his simple outfit of cotton or wool tunic, trousers, the well-worn leather boots, and tied-back, though untamed brown hair, shot through with a generous number of silver hairs.
As a whole, the economy has been stabilized, trade has increased, morale has immensely increased, the social order is slowly but surely undergoing changes. There are so few nobles left, and with the exception of several of the King's distant relatives, a joltingly large majority of nobles recanted their titles, reduced their claims, and offered a hand up for some of the citizens who showed their good nature and talent for handling authority.
Some people have jumped in good standings, some are daily ostracized for their poor judgement or distasteful manners. Several have been literally knocked to the knees. Slavery has been banned by general consent and governor's order. By all accounts, the province is expected to improve by the day.
twisted And here is where you're let loose. Don a persona and wreak havoc, flirt with the local fisher boys, celebrate the splendora of good wine, master your knack for sly-of-hand tricks, or JUST DO NUTHIN! Lmao, go ahead. The possibilities, my friends, are nothing short of endless.........
