The Grand Meeting

As Gerald moved to the central chair in the center of the town hall, the people around him groggily looked up.  Once he had a majority of their attention, he finally spoke.  "I'm sorry to call you from your beds this morning, but I wanted as many of the leaders to come and be present."  He then smiled at them.  "After all, I can't stay here forever."  There was a general murmur of disdain for his words around the room, but he pressed on.  "I must leave, or the Wizards will, without a doubt, find us and finish the job they wanted to where we were before."  There was a general muttering.  "So, with the prospect of me leaving for a prolonged period of time, I want to ensure that the city is taken care of."

He nodded to Rory who took over. "We need food for the winter, and in far larger amounts than what we have or what we can gather in the nearby areas.  Even if we like fish."  The group looked at each other, and then back to Rory.  "We need some kind of organization to take over and begin again."  The Necromancer nodded his assent to this.  "I propose a monarchy."  At this, the crowd nodded and burst into a small round of applause, while Gerald looked shocked.  This was not what they had previously discussed.  "As the main choice of our king will be leaving us for a while, I propose we first vote and grant the king his official powers.  Are there any opposed to this?"  

Silence permeated the room.  The word of a Davith was supreme after all, in their minds.  The Daviths had led the city of Portal in some measure since before the great war, and they would continue to do so again.  "We will now have a vote on who is to be the king, as this is something that the people must decide.  While I believe we all have a clear winner, I think that it is best that the people agree to it first." 

"I propose," Gerald interrupted.  "That the people FIRST vote on what kind of government to have.  Either the council that their forefathers had, which had led the city well for over 2000 years, or a monarchy, where a king or queen will rule over them until their death."  He looked out at the crowd.  "Let us consider the wisdom of the ancients.  The leadership of a council changes, sometimes within a year or less.  This allows for new ideas, new plans, and the ability to be more adaptable when crises arise."  The people nodded.  "On the other hand, a King will take your sons for his wars.  Your daughters for his bed.  He often leaves the old to die.  Your people he often exploits for only his gain."  There was some nodding to that, but the Necromancer wasn't done.  In a council, there is an automatic protection from corruption.  Each other.  You can even do what the people in Woodstand have done, where the people (those who can read) will write the name of someone they like and vote for the council seats."  There was some muttering in favor of this.  "This event occurs every five years!  This also makes it so that the people can get rid of members of the council who lied or turned out to not be good fits for the council."  The crowd gave a smatter of applause, and Gerald felt satisfied.  

"I must disagree with your assessment of a king, Lord Gerald."  Rory began.  "Under the council, many of our demands and requests remained unanswered, buried under red tape and rules that they made up specifically to stop them from ever being heard."  

"A king could do that."  Gerald countered.  

"A true king keeps the minds and hearts of the people in mind, even if it is only in fear of what they can accomplish if they were organized."  He countered.  "A council leads by deception and lies, even when they are voted upon by the voice of the people.  Speaking of which, please raise your hand if you have been taught how to read, write, or do math."  Only about three hands went up.  "Are these the only people who will be allowed to vote?  Should these be the only people in our city with a voice?"  At this, the Necromancer remained silent, searching for the right words, but Rory continued.  "Under a king, the government runs more smoothly, and orders are carried out with efficiency.  The people can also check the power of a bad king through the people who work underneath the king."  

"Plenty of people have wound up dead because of that idea."  

""But the government runs worse, and even the king suffers.  A true ruler knows that."  

"That does not guarantee that his children and his children's children know it."  

"But the people will revolt and replace a bad king.  It has been done in the past."

"At the cost of thousands of lives!"  Gerald argued back.  "Maybe if there was a way for a group, monitored and placed by the commoner people, to remove a king peacefully and without bloodshed…"

"Not a bad idea."  Rory stated before turning back to the crowd.  "All in favor of a council, as Lord Gerald suggests, raise your hands."  Only the Necromancer's hand raised up.  It was clear that his plans, and suggestions were heard with a hint of unbelief based on the people's recent experiences.  (Not to mention the rumors of what the previous Council had planned for them)  "All in favor of a monarchy, in which the people can remove an ineffective or horrendous leader?"  Every hand save one in the front row was raised. "It appears that we have a majority in favor of the monarchy."  Rory replied to the crowd, which drew a round of applause and cheers from the group, which was beginning to wake up to how historic this moment could be.

Gerald frowned.  He didn't like where this was headed…  

"Now.  We need someone to make the king.  Who should-"

"GERALD!"  Hermina's voice came from the back of the room, and the crowd began chanting his name.  The Necromancer then rose and motioned for them all to sit, silencing them.  

"I… I… I do not want this responsibility."  

"Then perhaps you would be a good king."  Rory noticed.  "I believe that my father always says that the best rulers are those who never wanted the role, but rose to meet it."  He smiled at the Necromancer.  "I believe that my father, were he to hear, would agree with the choice."  

"I do not want this power, and believe that one of you should take the power instead of me."  Gerald stated, stuttering over his words in his haste. 

"And I say that we have the perfect example of power, prestige, and kingly grace in front of us now."  Rory then kneeled down in front of him.  "All who would follow our king, the Dead Raiser, Governor of the Ashen Plains, Gerald, son of Gor, son of Gorbash, the son and heir to the city of Portal, please take the knee, and swear your allegiance."  

Gerald tried to stop it, but his mouth was seemingly shut and it refused to open.  Something, or a group of somethings, was stopping him from speaking, and his arms suddenly became pressed at his sides and loose, as though he couldn't move them.  The people rose as one, except one person at the front who remained standing, and took a knee.  On a signal from Rory, the group shouted, "HAIL" and they bent their heads.  Gerald felt a tear stream down his face.  It caught him off guard, and he found his arms' strength again for he wiped it off of his cheek.  

A male voice filled the room, solid, bold, with its power flooded the hearts and minds of all that attended, even though nobody outside of the room recorded ever hearing it.  "This is the King."  Silence fell over the people, and people continued to look towards the few windows and the door.  Others just looked in majesty at the man, still wearing his dirty armor and cape, who stood at the front of them all, next to Rory.  It made Gerald more nervous than anything else, however, because he had recognized the voice.  The voice was of Dreiss, and it seldom made any mention to mortals.  

"It appears you have no choice."  Hermina Dor stated, walking to the front.  "Even the gods have declared it."  She then, before the dais, curtsied low and bent her head.  "I swear my allegiance to the King of Portal, and grant him dominion over all of the lands under my control.  So swear I, Hermina Dor.  Countess of the Vampires of the Northern Wastes.  So say I under one condition, if my Lord will grant this boon."  

She awaited his answer, but the Necromancer simply stood for a while in a stunned silence.  'They really want to put this on me NOW?'  He thought, cursing the influx of bad luck on him.  He didn't want rulership, even one blessed by the gods.  The plans he had had to rebuild the Necromancers had long been destroyed.  (In fact, with the death of Hermina)  Such a hope… it flooded his mind with opportunities.  With the power of the other races, he could possibly grant a war to the Wizards and finally force their surrender.  'Or perhaps their rescinding of the curse on the Warlocks…'  He thought.  Visions of glory filled his heart, then also visions of endless days and nights rebuilding the city, encouraging trade, making the city self-sufficient as much as possible.  The wars that would erupt for control of the city by the Everseekers when they were, inevitably, found… 

He finally found himself, his mind finally caught onto one thing in its tired state.  It was something that his father had stated many thousands of years before, from the time the boy was old enough to understand.  "The people will choose their leader in the end, my son.  Whether they will choose their own security and a tyrant, or a man who will secure their future matters not.  They shall choose with their love, admiration, and prayers.  Never, my son… Never discount the common man…"  The man's voice rang in his ears, as though he were a young Necromancer once again, and it almost made Gerald burst into tears.  'What would you do dad?'  He thought, his mind frustrated by the number of thoughts that attempted to flood it.  

Then he shouted, as he made his decision, feeling inspired: "RISE!  RISE, SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF THE PORTAL!  RISE FOR THE DEATHS THAT WILL SOON FALL UPON YOU!  RISE FOR THE NEW LIFE THAT WILL COME!  RISE FOR THE FOOLISH, THE PROUD, THE HUMBLE AND THE BRAVE!  GIVE RISE TO THE KINGDOM OF WISDOM, AND NOT THE KINGDOM OF WHAT IS EASY!  RISE, MY SONS AND DAUGHTERS!  RISE MY KITH AND KIN!  RISE!"  With that, the entire crowd burst into cheers, stood, and the entire hall shouted in ecstasy.  "Hermina, I will get your boon as soon as possible, and may it be something of value, if you seriously just pledged your entire brood to me."  He smiled at her, and she curtsied again, and grabbed his hand, kissing it.  "I would like to speak to the young man in the front row who refused to bow and had a different path in mind for the city."  Rory nodded, and he beckoned the young man forward.  The crowd was quieted as the young man came forward.  "Do you wish to acknowledge me, or do you have questions first?"  

"I have many questions."  The young man asked.  "But first, do you believe yourself better than us?"  

"I almost wish I did."  The Necromancer stated, which made Lydia, who was also at the back of the crowd (though somber and silent) smile.  "It would make this easier.  I am simply one of you, though far, Far, older."  He smiled.  

"Will you always keep our best intentions at heart?"  

The Necromancer thought, then responded.  "I must keep the intentions for all of my race at the forefront of my mind.  But I will do all I can for the people who swear their allegiance to me."  

"Each individual?"  The young man asked, raising an eyebrow.  

"What is the best for the greater good is sometimes more important than one individual."  Gerald responded, giving the young man a smile.  "I hope that is understood.  I promise that, when possible, I will always give an explanation however."  

The young man then sank to one knee. "Then I bow, and swear my allegiance to the king of the dead."  

"Be at peace."  The Necromancer said, raising him.  "Your name?"

"Alexander.  Alexander Bright."  

"Please aid this new kingdom with all of your might.  It will need your wisdom, and your learning."  Gerald, turned to Rory.  "Teach the boy his letters, if he hasn't already, and ensure that he works for me as soon as he is ready."  

"Yes, my king."  Rory responded.  

The man then turned to the crowd again.  "I need a group of people as well directly under me."  He stated.  "This group will be elected by the hand of the people one month from now, if we are blessed to survive that long, and they will be the ones to approve all laws and commands that affect the people, excepting in matters of war."  He turned to the crowd and started loudly.  "Tough times are ahead.  We must first deal with the food problem.  We need enough food and water to survive the winter, and I am not sure that the wells you relied upon are finding the water you need.  Let us find the spots, and plant the winter crops.  We will work to become self-sufficient, and then proceed to add other areas to our loving family."  The crowd cheered, and Gerald smiled with them.  "Until my coronation, I am no king.  I am simply your leader.  I would have an audience with each and every one of your families in the coming weeks.  I must check something."  The crowd beamed with delight, and Gerald sent them away with a wave of his hand.  

"Just as the prophecy foretold."  Rory stated, "Just like mother said it…  The king will come and usher in the Rise…"  

Lydia moved through the crowd, her eyes solely on the man who was now voted to be the king.  It was something that she didn't find to her taste.  'To be king, the diving right to rule, is something you are born with.  Not something that you take upon yourself.'  She thought.  As she reached the talking Vampress, non-magi, and Necromancer, it finally dawned on her just how ridiculous this would look to anyone else in the world.  'But you heard the voice.'  Lydia's conscience told her.  'You felt that there was no magic power or other force on this earth that could do it just like that.'  She shuddered.  'Maybe it is something that Gerald can do that the rest of us don't know.'  She thought.  

Gerald was talking quickly to Hermina as she finished coming close.  '... your boon will be granted following the coronation.  Please ask for it then.  Gather your brood, and please immediately prepare caravans for gifting these people your food."  

"It shall be done, my king." She acknowledged, before melding into the shadows and she was gone.  

"Did you do the voice?"  Lydia demanded.  

Gerald looked at her.  "No I did not."  

'He can't lie.'  She thought… it clearly was the voice…  "Was that the voice of a god?"  

"Yes.  Dreiss to be exact."  Gerald replied.  

"Then what is my place in this, Master?"  She replied, her eyes cold.  

Gerald smiled.  "We… we have a lot to do."  He counted on his fingers each thing as he rambled them off.  "1: The world is about to be ripped apart by conflict between your people and the Gin.  We must put a stop to it.  2: The Witches are about to die out, and the last of the Warlocks is about to pass their race into legend.  We must stop this.  3: We must feed and take care of these people during this first winter and probably for the following several years."  He thought for a moment and then lowered his finger counting hand.  "Isn't that enough to go off of?"  Lydia nodded.  "I… I'll need you Lydia.  I cannot break our slave pact, but I can put you to good use protecting the people and helping them.  Are you willing to serve them?"  Lydia nodded.  "Thank you.  Please take a look at the lands below the city.  That is where we will need to be planting orchards, fields, and leaving room for expansion in the future.  OH!  And we need to take care of the walls and upgrade the gates…"  He was thinking out loud, focussing on how to get things done, and many of the logistics.  

At least, until his brain just seemed to stop working all at once.  "I'm tired… this has been one… unusual night…