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Thread: [Festival]The Day of Truth
- Join Date
- Dec 2004
[Festival]The Day of Truth
The Day of Truth
Mynwerth – Huntington
First Impressions: “This town is small. What makes the Master fear it so?” Elanias Dowd was not a man to inspire fear in the hearts of onlookers. His stature was small, and his face pocked with marks and the scars of a life ill-spent. His nose, if it had ever looked normal, had been broken and flattened over time and many battles. His beard, grown through a desire to hide his uncomely face, was patchy in places. The wrath of both weather and time was apparent on his every feature. This was not a man to whom life had been kind.
At the moment, he stood in the shelter of Huntington’s only tavern. Inside, a weary one-legged minotaur watched over the bar. The scattered occupants seemed only too glad to be away from the rain which had drenched the countryside for days without end.
The woman that he addressed was known only as Rhayde. She was a tall, dark skinned woman from a distant land. Though her clothing was odd and many thought the pronounced curve in her sword made that weapon useless, she had earned her place at Dorjan, their master’s side. The loose pants she wore actually made it easier for her to move, and her simple cloak hid many small weapons and other surprises.
Rhayde had become Dorjan’s lieutenant after the man who previously held that position lost his head and ordered a retreat from one of the barbarian hordes. This former mercenary, who until then had merely headed her own small troop, had killed that coward and through sheer force of will and threats which she was perfectly willing and able to back up, took over the outnumbered and disorganized forces. Her quick mind and keen eye for strategy allowed them to rally and drive the barbarians away. Once Dorjan had discovered what had happened, he had named her his new right hand and put her in charge of his military.
In response to his question, Rhayde turned her violet eyes to Dowd. “Master Dorjan is concerned not about this town, but about its current potential to disrupt his ascension.” A certain gleam came to those mysterious eyes. “That must not be allowed to happen.”
Scowling at the downpour, Dowd shook his head. “What potential? What’s this Day of Truth and Balance that’s supposed to happen tomorrow?” As he spoke, a lone dragon soared across the distant sky and he followed it with his gaze.
“The Day of Truth and Balance,” Rhayde began. “is a day that comes about once every three years in this town. A sorcerer of vast power lived here long ago. His name was Dalagran. There was nothing that Dalagran hated more than a lie. He would not abide anyone who ever lied to him, and most never lived to do so again.” A sudden wind threw a chilling blanket over the pair, but they appeared to be unaffected. “Before he died, the sorcerer swore that he would protect his homeland from the stench of untruth for a time. Somehow he managed to expend his essence and create a day during which no untruth can be spoken, written, or in any way committed. The Day of Truth and Balance. As I said, it comes about once every three years.”
Spitting, Dowd toyed with the pouch at his belt. “How could a bunch of villagers all telling the truth stop the master from ascending?”
Turning to enter the tavern, Rhayde was silent until they had seated themselves in a far corner. Then, with the firelight dancing off of her features, she spoke in a whisper. “Because the town can stop any untruth from taking place… and Dorjan is not really a God.”
A Cause for Celebration: The town of Huntington has turned this event, which occurs once every three years, into a celebration. They rejoice in the power of truth and light, and its ability to bring balance to the lives of everyone.
During these twenty-four hours, no untruth may be spoken, written, or in any way comitted within the city limits. The person attempting to lie will merely be unable to speak until they choose to speak the truth. Over time, the citizens have learned not to take advantage of this by asking others questions which they might wish to conceal the truth of. Instead, the entire day is devoted to celebration. They believe that if they distract themselves for those twenty-four hours by creating an atmosphere of merriment, then they will avoid the temptation to find the truth. In many ways, knowing too much is dangerous, as these people have found over the years. It has driven families apart, ruined lives, and sparked wars. Therefore, during this day, no work is done. All food is given freely and happily, and everyone does whatever they can to forget themselves, even for a short time.
Festivities: During these twenty-four hours, everyone in the town celebrates. Games are played in the streets, and people of all social classes mingle together as one, with no differences. Children frolic with one another and adults alike. Everyone who can cook does so and all the food is passed out equally. The idea is to distract everyone from the potential this day has, and over time it has grown into their most beloved tradition.
Modifications: All of the town’s normal processes except for minimal law enforcement and the bakery are either shut down or altered. Armor, weapon, and item shops are closed and locked. The inn is open for any who wish to use it. The tavern is open and all drinks and food are on the house.
\"I don\'t care when I died, but why in the world did I go to heaven?\"