A assorted crowd gathers around makeshift platform. Although the crowd was not particularly large the speaker sauntered up to the platform as if he was going to be addressing the whole of London. Lord Gazter cleared his throat.
"My fellow Londoners, I have a question for you all. What does it mean to be a Londoner?" He pauses for a heartbeat. "What is it that separates us from others. Is it our vitality for we have survived the fall? Is it our character for we have refused to let despair destroy us? Is it tenacity for we have endured? My friends it is all these things and more that makes the people of London not only different from any other people above on the surface, but the any other peoples in the Neath."
Lord Gazter pauses. He pauses until only a few quiet whispers remain. "But what of the tomb colonists?" Lord Gazter surveys the faces in the crowd. "What about our tomb colonist friends. Are they not Londoners? Do they not toil for a wage like any other Londoner? Do they not feel pain like any Londoner? Do they not seek joy in their lives like any other Londoner?"
"Do they not weep and cry out at the injustices in their lives like any Londoner?" Lord Gazter waits. He waits until the words hung like lead in the air. "The answer to all those question is unmistakably, invariably, inescapably yes." Lord Gazter looks out towards the crowd with the look of a judge before the accused.
"Yet why are the tomb colonist still treated with scorn? Why do the words of their troubles fall on deaf ears?" Lord Gazter’s sighs a dreary sigh. "Why is their plight treated any different to any others’ plight?"
Lord Gazter looks out upon the crowd again. "To those who ask, what plight does the tomb colonist face, I say to you merely look to the scorn in your own voice. The fate of the tomb colonist made terrible enough by their new state is made worse by people, who instead of treating them like any other Londoner treat them with fear and disgust." Lord Gazter scrunches up his face as if he tasted something foul.
"Yet their troubles do not end their for many tomb colonists, who although they consider London their home and its residents kinsmen, are shipped off to the tomb colonies as a way of disposing them. To dispose of fellow Londoners as if they were nothing but refuse is unabashedly detestable."
Lord Gazter takes a few steps to his left and faces the crowd. "Imagine if you were in their position. For a second imagine if you were a tomb colonist. How would you feel? How would you cope with the misery?" Lord Gazter takes a few steps to the right.
"Or worse yet imagine if one of your loved ones became a tomb colonist. Imagine if one of your parents became a tomb colonist. Imagine if your love became a tomb colonist. Imagine if one of your children became a tomb colonist."
The silence seemed as if it lasted an eternity. "My fellow Londoners, I ask you again. Are tomb colonists not Londoners as well?"
There is a pause, but eventually a few start applauding and goaded on by the others the rest applaud as well. "I cannot fully speak for all the troubles that the tomb colonists face for I have never truly experienced it. So I would like to offer this platform to my dear friend." Lord Gazter offers a tomb colonist a hand up the platform and he himself descends off the platform.
OOC: To hopefully preemptively answer any questions. This is going on during Flowerdene, and yes other players can get involved as part of the crowd if you want.
edited by Lord Gazter on 8/25/2016