The Lost Argument

There are small twitches, hints of tells, and pauses for breath that pray to find the right words, the convincing words. Through that mask, you are struggling so hard to convince any who can hear, who will listen.

But we are not just one city, Tabor; do you forget that? Do you think us Tassatans, Holbergians, and Temeschwari are capable of standing idle and doing nothing when Sister Sarvos is in peril? The insult, the affront, the challenge, is not just on our Sister city– it is on ALL of us. You are in trouble, and we want to help, if only you would let us stand together and bring each of our unique flavours to the fight. Sarvos is ours just as it is yours, and we will all fight for her, to Reckon this injury. Nothing will prevent us. Not even you.

You wear a mask to this meeting, this discussion, which harms your argument and covers any passion that might live in your heart (Look around, Tabor, the rest of us? Not a mask in sight: our hearts are on the table, and we are betting with our souls.) You claim to not want armies running amok through your city, it’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it? You talk of the Sarvos way– that we should be dealing with them, negotiating, before we bring fighting and blood to the streets. Do you even HAVE ANYTHING LEFT with whi– well, now you’re making me angry. Did they steal your Virtues along with your goods?

Leopold’s passions win the argument; not that I ever had to be convinced. I know I shall die with Courage and Loyalty pumping the blood through my veins. And I will convince those able to stand up for Virtue to do so, and will stand beside them. If you want to remain afraid, I have no time for you.