In the shadows of dusk, the crowds milling before the Palace of Troy were a motely group; the urban poor standing together with merchants, craftsmen, and smallholder farmer-soldiers newly-come from the country. They held up placards and posters, illustrated with prize woodcuts from the printing-houses. And leading them were the Church of Rights, whose clergy were preaching before the masses about the evils of slavery. But President Paris Mattson knew that the real issues were not about the imaginary spiritual duty to keep men freed and paid, but rather about power, about [i]opportunity[/i]. He knew that the prime strength of the aristocratic class that had been gaining power for a century and a half was slave labor, and that if it was undermined, then it would not be able to crush the other sectors of society underfoot.

These aristocrats had also led the Republican Empire into a war with the 'Kingdom of Nittany', when they had promised that the nation would not go into war with their equals, or would win if they did. Well, the first promise was unfulfilled while the second was arguable; victories had been won in battle, but the war as a whole had been a draw. An expensive, bloody draw.

President Mattson had successfully avoided blame for war and compromise, but his advocacy of slavery enabled his enemies to tar him with the same brush they had painted his warmongering peers. To them, the class that had profited from slave plantations, mines, and workshops was one and the same, a threat to their 'rights and liberties'. Which they were; he'd grant them that. But they were people of no wider vision anyway.

Making his way to the balcony of the marble building - this was not a ruin from before the Fall of Man, but something [i]new[/i], built by the indentured before their class lost the last of their rights - the middle-aged man, clad in a fine silken uniform, his hair curled and powdered white, faced the hostile gathering of humanity. He was proud that they were at least not a mob. The President then cleared his throat, and said, in as loud a voice as he could:

"Greetings, Citizens of the Republican Empire. As your duly-elected leader, the one tasked with sheperding this great nation, I have good news." His heralds, given a copy of his speech beforehand, would say those words as well from the other balconies and towers of the structure. Nevertheless, it was important that he appeared to have memorized what he had to say beforehand. President Mattson then continued.

"It is with great pleasure, that earlier today, the Congress of the Republican Empire of Troy...has decided to ratify the Treaty of Peace with the Kingdom of Nittany!" Whoops of joy greeted the air at that, as the crowd threw their hats into the air, even as the sunset continued to vanish over the horizon; already, torches were being spread around to light the area. "Our troops will be returning home, prisoners will be exchanged, and a new era of peace and understanding begins!"

The President smiled as the crowd was satified for a moment, but he knew that the circle had to be squared, that commitments to reducing slavery had to be made. Even better if these were seen as a prelude to more abolition, instead of a delaying tactic for the aristocracy to regain power. 

"But now, we turn towards other business; business of morality. Of late, there has been agitation against the institution of indentured servitude directed against criminals and debtors, and it is admitted that there are abuses within the system." The crowd slowly grew silent at that. "So, in the very same session of the Congress that ratified the peace treaty, we have signed a new law; the Law of the Free Womb!" A moment of incomprehension and hope.

To the crowd, the President and his heralds elaborated: "From now on, all children born to those who have been indentured since this day of proclamation will not share their parents' status; they are free! This applies to pregnant women captured from raiding tribals and bandits; their children are free as well!"

The applause was immense; wilder than expected. But the President was now able to withdraw back to the building, satisfied. He was not going to let go of the source of his wealth so easily; the temproary weakness of the aristocrats due to the war will be reversed by the very nation they had made war against. For one of the provisions of the peace with Nittany was that he was going to marry a distant relative of his', a lady, to one of their nobles' sons. This would hopefully lead to more ties, more wealth, and a chance for the aristocracy's fortunes to rebound...