In the City, 403 days after a wizard cursed the REALM…
Current Version:
The woman’s smile was too wide, Jasper decided. Far too wide. Unnervingly wide. Also, her smile didn’t match her eyes. While her mouth was saying, “We are here to help,” her eyes seemed to be adding, “if we must,” with an occasional twitch that said, “and I really wish I were somewhere else.”
“We are here to help,” she said again in an even more honeyed voice. “Lady Morgan feels for the plight of the Wordler people. When she becomes this city’s next Lord Mayor, be assured that her administration will offer whatever services are required to integrate Wordlers as fully productive members of our society.”
“Will we be allowed to vote?” asked Jasper.
The woman’s eye twitched. “Pardon?”
“I know that Villagers won’t be allowed to vote in this upcoming election,” Jasper clarified. “But all three candidates are on record opposing voter rights for recent immigrants, even into the future. If you’re the Morgan Campaign’s Outreach Director to the Villager Community, does that mean she’s changed her mind on the issue?”
This time the woman’s eyes clearly flashed with annoyance while her clenched teeth said, “Wordler enfranchisement is one of many important issues under review by Lady Morgan’s policy advisors. The purpose of this meeting is for me to express, on Lady Morgan’s behalf, her deep compassion for you and your people.”
“I was promised cash,” said another Wordler in the audience.
Others voiced their assent. “The handbill said we’d each receive five florins.”
The Outreach Director’s smile brightened. “I am happy to confirm that those of you who brought a signed and stamped copy of the handbill will be given the opportunity to earn a cash reward of up to five florins.”
It seemed to Jasper that the pause that followed allowed for a calculated period of grumbling and the shuffling of feet, but not quite enough time for anyone to build momentum toward the exit. The Outreach Director’s raised hand seemed to declare, “Now I’ve got you trapped.”
“However,” her honeyed mouth continued, “there will be plenty of other opportunities within the Morgan campaign. I hope all of you will consider working with us toward a city government that will treat you with the respect you deserve.”
“And the cash we deserve?”
Another twitch of the eye. “Some of the positions will provide a path for advancement toward jobs in Morgan administration. Those will be paid jobs, I suppose.”
More grumbling in the audience as the carrot being dangled in front of them got smaller and farther away, but Jasper had his own handbill to worry about. His was a mysterious note that read, “Wordler 403, seek your five-letter Word of Protection within the Morgan campaign. Fail to find it by sunset, and you will die.”
“I will be dividing you into groups,” said the Outreach Director.
“Groups of free laborers hoping to tilt the results in an election where we’re not allowed to vote,” grumbled a woman to Jasper’s left. “And who’s to say that Lady Morgan is any better than the other two candidates, anyway?”
Jasper tuned the Outreach Director out as she selected Wordlers to pass out campaign materials, Wordlers to provide support for campaign speeches, and Wordlers who could look pathetic on cue, so that sympathetic voters might be enticed to vote for a pro-Wordler candidate.
“—and you,” said the Outreach Director, singling Jasper out with a discriminating finger. “You seem to have a sharp head on your shoulders. How would you like to serve as the campaign’s liaison within the Wordler community?”
“Can I get an advance on the future florins I’ll be earning in my future job in Lady Morgan’s future administration?”
She ignored his question without ignoring him, which had to be a handy trick in the political arena. “I need your help in crafting a slogan that will galvanize your fellow Wordlers to the cause.”
“SLOGAN,” Jasper muttered. “No, that’s six letters. But maybe a pithy SAYING? Also six letters. Dang.”
“What are you saying?”
“Wordlers have a complicated relationship with five-letter words, so you’ll need one in your motto. That’s it! MOTTO! I get to live another day!”
“Live another day,” the Outreach Director mused. This time her eyes and her mouth agreed. “I like it.”
“What’s a MOTTO?” asked one of the other Wordlers.
“Nothing,” said Jasper. “What’s a MOTTO with you?”
Web3 Draft:
- Listed on OpenSea
- Listed on Rarible
- Pinned to IPFS
Revision Notes:
To be added.
