The OP3RaT0R
Call me Op. Or Smooth.
Hrolmir polished the ancient oak bar firmly, moving his hand with the grain, and bringing out the wood's shine. This bar had seen a lot in its day - it would see more yet, if Hrolmir had anything to say about it. His friends, old and new, would be arriving soon. The note had had ample time to disseminate, and those who accepted the responsibility of thinking would respond to it. It had said:
"We live in an age when consistency and virtue are frowned upon, and things are seen as relative, non-concrete, and worst of all, without purpose. To some, the spur of the moment is all that is important. For them, avoiding death is the same as living. If you understand what you have read so far, you know that it is not.
If you suspect men are still good; if you believe men are still great; and if you know that men are better than the ones that are the majority today, come to the Strong Man's Relief on the 17th of Last Seed, outside of Whiterun. We will return Skyrim to the virtues of honesty, dedication, intelect, and strength. The Jarls and the beggars hate us, and yet they wish to ride upon our backs. We will shrug."
Hrolmir finished cleaning the bar and walked up the steps in the back of the tavern to the second floor, which held the inn's rooms. Across the hall, he came to the door which opened out to the outdoor balcony seating. Wilhelm was sitting at a table up against the wooden rail built around the perimeter of the balcony. He was with Katarina, his young love interest. They were talking and looking out at Whiterun, behind which the sun was just beginning to wane. Katarina was doing most of the talking, as usual; Wilhelm was listening with rapt attention, as he often did around her. She was the only person who could get through to Wilhelm's mind, and Hrolmir thanked the gods for that. She was an unusual girl, for her day. She used her mind.
Hrolmir looked past the two young adults at the road leading to the Strong Man's Relief, and saw a yellow-clad figure approaching on horseback. He ineptly galloped up to the edge of the property, and, stepping over the line, called out, "Hrolmir! The Jarl demands your taxes! You have resisted long enough!"
Walking to the edge of the balcony, Hrolmir yelled back, "What do I 'owe' your Jarl?"
"Uh, the property tax, your dues to the Jarl, the tax for the Divines-"
Hrolmir cut in, "I owe you nothing. Your property tax; did I purchase my land for your Jarl? The Jarl's 'dues;' can he rightly demand that I pay him for no value in return, let alone for his efforts to drive me to ruin? And do not say anything of 'duty!' And your alleged tax 'for the Divines;' if your Jarl didn't spend that extorted money on himself, and actually offered it to the Divines, they would come down from Aetherius and spit in his face! Now, get off of my property!"
"You would do well to pay..."
"And you would do well to leave." With that, Hrolmir sent a fireball flying past the guard and said, "The next one will hit you."
The guard left, shaking his head. Wilhelm looked to Hrolmir uneasily, and said "Grandfather, they're going to keep coming. You can afford to pay, you know."
Katarina chimed in, "My father said that there are rumors that the Jarl is going to have his men come in and take the taxes if you don't pay soon."
"Your intentions are good; but I would not pay a highwayman if he gave me the choice of my money or my life. This is the same. One's life is not a bargaining chip. When they ask for taxes, the wish for me to not only be the victim of robbery, but to call it lawful. I will not give them my sanction. And if they come at me with force, I will respond in kind - except I have my mind at my disposal."
"Well, whatever happens, my father says that if the order is given to raid this place, he will quit."
"I appreciate that, Katarina. But I don't know why he doesn't just come work for me already; he would be making more money, working fewer hours..."
"Yes, but if he quit now, there wouldn't be a fair guard left in the city."
"That's true. Come, you two, we're going to be having a gathering downstairs."
Wilhelm and Katarina headed inside, but Hrolmir stayed outside for a moment. He looked out at the sunset, felt the warm breeze blow across the tundra, and knew that that evening would be the start of the return of truth to its rightful place in the world.
"We live in an age when consistency and virtue are frowned upon, and things are seen as relative, non-concrete, and worst of all, without purpose. To some, the spur of the moment is all that is important. For them, avoiding death is the same as living. If you understand what you have read so far, you know that it is not.
If you suspect men are still good; if you believe men are still great; and if you know that men are better than the ones that are the majority today, come to the Strong Man's Relief on the 17th of Last Seed, outside of Whiterun. We will return Skyrim to the virtues of honesty, dedication, intelect, and strength. The Jarls and the beggars hate us, and yet they wish to ride upon our backs. We will shrug."
Hrolmir finished cleaning the bar and walked up the steps in the back of the tavern to the second floor, which held the inn's rooms. Across the hall, he came to the door which opened out to the outdoor balcony seating. Wilhelm was sitting at a table up against the wooden rail built around the perimeter of the balcony. He was with Katarina, his young love interest. They were talking and looking out at Whiterun, behind which the sun was just beginning to wane. Katarina was doing most of the talking, as usual; Wilhelm was listening with rapt attention, as he often did around her. She was the only person who could get through to Wilhelm's mind, and Hrolmir thanked the gods for that. She was an unusual girl, for her day. She used her mind.
Hrolmir looked past the two young adults at the road leading to the Strong Man's Relief, and saw a yellow-clad figure approaching on horseback. He ineptly galloped up to the edge of the property, and, stepping over the line, called out, "Hrolmir! The Jarl demands your taxes! You have resisted long enough!"
Walking to the edge of the balcony, Hrolmir yelled back, "What do I 'owe' your Jarl?"
"Uh, the property tax, your dues to the Jarl, the tax for the Divines-"
Hrolmir cut in, "I owe you nothing. Your property tax; did I purchase my land for your Jarl? The Jarl's 'dues;' can he rightly demand that I pay him for no value in return, let alone for his efforts to drive me to ruin? And do not say anything of 'duty!' And your alleged tax 'for the Divines;' if your Jarl didn't spend that extorted money on himself, and actually offered it to the Divines, they would come down from Aetherius and spit in his face! Now, get off of my property!"
"You would do well to pay..."
"And you would do well to leave." With that, Hrolmir sent a fireball flying past the guard and said, "The next one will hit you."
The guard left, shaking his head. Wilhelm looked to Hrolmir uneasily, and said "Grandfather, they're going to keep coming. You can afford to pay, you know."
Katarina chimed in, "My father said that there are rumors that the Jarl is going to have his men come in and take the taxes if you don't pay soon."
"Your intentions are good; but I would not pay a highwayman if he gave me the choice of my money or my life. This is the same. One's life is not a bargaining chip. When they ask for taxes, the wish for me to not only be the victim of robbery, but to call it lawful. I will not give them my sanction. And if they come at me with force, I will respond in kind - except I have my mind at my disposal."
"Well, whatever happens, my father says that if the order is given to raid this place, he will quit."
"I appreciate that, Katarina. But I don't know why he doesn't just come work for me already; he would be making more money, working fewer hours..."
"Yes, but if he quit now, there wouldn't be a fair guard left in the city."
"That's true. Come, you two, we're going to be having a gathering downstairs."
Wilhelm and Katarina headed inside, but Hrolmir stayed outside for a moment. He looked out at the sunset, felt the warm breeze blow across the tundra, and knew that that evening would be the start of the return of truth to its rightful place in the world.