[i]The Apocalypse has decimated much of the Western Mainland, Krankton County has seen the least amount of damage and destruction, Yegmor County not as lucky and the other regions are said to be void of life. Thrivenshell, the life jewel of the Krankton County, is perhaps the only standing and remnant imago of a civilized community. Other settlements and communities were either completely destroyed by the Storm, looted to the very timbers or witnessed unspeakable carnage from the madness the Apocalypse has brought. It has been two rough years since the Apocalypse first announced its grim presence, and took the world by storm, leaving men equal to beasts and monsters with no empathy for life. One man, with the aid of a few, was able to restore the destroyed town of Thrivenshell back to its former glory, a lot should be discussed as to how it was done, but the townspeople and the newcomers appreciate it enough to keep a silent curiosity. [/i]     

[b]Baron Garef
[i]The Baron's Palace[/i], a mansion on the outskirts of town. [/b]

"Baron, the men are ready for your address today at Town, should I have them escort you there?" Said a man in a polite tone, dressed well in a kind manner, groomed and good smelling. The Baron was just about finished with his cufflinks, putting on his black coat and adjusting his pose before the mirror. 

"[color=f26522]Appearances Grimly, they make a man or break him. It doesn't matter what sort of inclination or good intentions one harbors, if the appearances don't match. I take quite the pride in the image I try to show people, and certainly it is the image I consciously know is best.[/color]" The Baron walked over to Grimly, patted him on his shoulder and held his eyes confidently, "[color=f26522]And a paranoid Tyrant is the last image I have the desire to bestow upon my fellow men.[/color]"

The Baron walked out of his dressing room, the sun rays penetrating the white shades, he decided to wake up early that day and beat the townspeople to the Plaza. The image he perhaps was trying to radiate is that of a kind and confident leader, beneath his skin however crawled anxiety and a sense of doubt. For the past two years everything was in control, no matter how short the town ran on resources, or how many times rogue mad men attacked, it was all in control. So it must have been something that awakened a newly found doubt in the Baron, something that he must have seen in his deep slumbers. An omen, or perhaps just the facts that his personal town inspector has been feeding him last week. Thrivenshell is running low on important resources. Ammunition is running low, the wells are drying out, the food corps are not yielding enough harvest, and the morale is in constant downfall. Thrivenshell would be fine for the next three months, but then it will begin its slow but exponential downfall, men will tear men for a piece of meat. 

Decisions had to be made, things are to change, his Elites should be put to a new sort of use. The Baron decided today was the best day to address the townspeople on the situation, on the fear of his doubts, for today marked the town's two years anniversary of rebirth and sustenance of life.          

"[color=f26522]Grimly, if you happen to see Breckinridge on your way to town, please tell him should things go south, I have full blind trust in him.[/color]" The Baron got out of his mansion through the main door, whistled for his stead, a man walked it to him. "[color=f26522]Elisif, you are beautiful today. Thanks for the care Bradle.[/color]" The man bowed his head in silence and walked back to his post. 

The Baron caressed the silky black braids of his Elisif, he took his time giving back to his horse, whatever he thought he was giving back it worked to stimulate the horse. He got on top of it, mounted it like an old King would, and marched alone to Thrivenshell's main Plaza. On his way he saw some farmers waking up, he greeted them with a wide grin and a confident gesture. His insides were slowly betraying him, but he fought the dread of building doubt by appreciating the beautiful skyline. The Elenor mountains brushed against the horizon, blurred but never absent. The Apocalypse may have taken the humanity of many, emptied places of life, but it could never take the grace of the skies. 

The Baron would eventually reach the Plaza and wait to meet with the Sheriff before beginning the day, his men and a few of the Elites would follow him when more people presented themselves. He never wanted to be surrounded with armed men, but many attempts at his life in the past taught him that blind trust in the good of the environment is a fool's way.