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Tyler

The Campaign Trail

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"Hey! Quiet! The results are coming in!"

Several sets of eyes looked up at the man who sat beside the radio in the corner of the dimly-lit basement barroom. A feeling of unease and uncertainty permeated through the air, as those in the de-facto campaign headquarters of the Norkotian Nationalist League impatiently awaited the official word on the election results. Not one of them expected victory for their candidate, as the opposition they faced was formidable and well-entrenched, though a few had hope that a good showing could inspire future anti-establishment movements.

"With ninety-seven percent of the ballots recorded, the race for chairman has now been officially called." the voice of the radio announcer spoke, as the volume was turned up for all the here, "And it looks like we have a startling upset tonight. Nationalist candidate Joseph Tynes has been declared winner, edging out both incumbent Chairman Bill Chamblers, and his primary challenger Lars Beddeck. We now turn to our expert panel for analysis on this unexpected result..."

All eyes in the room widened, then turned toward the man whose name had just been spoken. Joseph Tynes, an ambitious young man to whom the Nationalists had pinned their hope, now found himself at the center of attention.

“Congratulations, Mr. Chairman.” the man at the radio stammered, both surprised and elated by the news.

As many of the other people in the room offered similar messages, the lone representative of the media, a newspaper intern sent here only to get a statement from the Nationalist League’s leadership after their expected defeat, shoved her way to the side of the upstart chairman-elect.

"Mr. Tynes! Mr. Tynes!" she shouted over the sudden explosion of noise in the small, smokey chamber, "Can I get a statement for the paper on your victory, sir?"

Tynes leaned back in his chair, overwhelmed by all that was happening around him. The intern’s words managed to register in his mind, forcing the young man to hurriedly concoct a statement to express himself. As he tried to form the thought in his mind, he couldn’t help be reflect upon the long road it had taken to get here...

 

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Gaian Academy, Circa 23 AO...

Twenty-three-year-old Joseph Tynes was seated upon a comfortable chair across from an aging admittance official, a stack of papers lying on the desk between them.

"Well, Joseph, I can tell you that your performance on the testing portion was satisfactory, although your natural science knowledge could use some improvement. I can also tell you that your entrance essay was well-done and has been approved." said the official, whose name Tynes would forget in later years, "Which just leaves the question of your spellcasting test."

"I noted in my initial letter that I have no magical training." Tynes pointed-out.

"Yes, and we reached out to your schools in Norkotia for confirmation of this." the official nodded, "It seems they’ve remained completely independent from the central government, and as such they have not undergone the required reforms and upgrades. This has left students like you at an unfortunate disadvantage."

While the official didn’t seem to be speaking from a position of arrogance, Tynes couldn’t help but feel like it was condescending to speak of his homeland’s lack of magic as though it was a willful effort to retard student success, or that it was even a problem not to teach magic in the first place.

"It is not uncommon for prospective students from remote areas to have limited knowledge of magic." the official continued, drawing on his experience with previous institutions he’d worked for before joining the Gaian Academy, which itself was only its first year of operation, "But it is uncommon for someone to no understanding of magic at all."

"Magic simply isn’t used where I come from." Tynes noted, acknowledging the way things worked in Norkotia.

What he didn’t mention was that some fringe elements of the Norkotian religious community had gone as far as to call magic a sin; which was a violation against the beliefs of the Norkotian sect of Gaianism. Though Tynes himself had not viewed it that way, he did at least know that it simply wasn’t a viable method of power back home.

"I understand." the official resumed speaking, "Which is why the Academy has agreed to accept you under a hardship clause, given this disability. You will need to work on some elementary magic courses in addition to your regular workload, but we're confident you can handle it. Congratulations Joseph, your application has been accepted."

The official stood up and offered a handshake, which was hesitantly accepted by Tynes as he also stood up. The young man seemed hung up on part of what the official had said, enough that he didn’t have the normal positive reaction one might have upon receiving news of their acceptance.

"Disabil--" he began to question, but quickly stopped himself, "Uhm. Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity."

"We’re glad to have you, Mr. Tynes." the official replied with a genuine smile.

And yet, as Tynes prepared to leave the room, he couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t belong here as much as he originally hoped he would...

 

Edited by Tyler

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Blairville Public Library, Circa 25 AO...

The near deathly-silence of the intricately decorated depository of books, transcripts and recordings was faintly violated by the soft approach of footsteps. Joseph Tynes looked up from the historical biography he had been carefully studying to see one of the librarians approaching him. The woman looked Elven, and though certain aspects of her dress and manner spoke of many years of experience, her face retained the flawlessness of youth. Such was the advantage of races that lived so much longer than a human could ever hope to.

"Sir," she politely said, her soft tone befitting of the quiet establishment, "We are about to close for the night. Would you like to check-out that book?"

Tynes sighed softly, closing the aforementioned object while standing up.

"That won't be necessary." he stated, "I apologize for being here so late. I must have lost track of the time."

She gave him a smile and a nod, then offered to put the book away for him, which he accepted. With his previous object of focus now removed from his possession, Tynes had nothing left to do but depart the library and return to his temporary lodgings in the poorer distract several blocks East of here. He stepped outside onto the streets, which were now illuminated by torches, magic lanterns and other primitive artificial sources. The sun had set hours ago, so the full starry sky was entirely visible above. Tynes remained just outside the library door for a moment, just gazing up at those stars, while committing what he had read minutes ago to memory.

The Gaian Academy had not worked out for him, so he left it after less than two years of schooling there. However, despite not graduating, he felt he had gained a valuable insight into how things worked outside of Norkotia, not to mentioned learned key elements of Terrenus history and culture. From the Academy he had gone to Hell's Gate, where he lived for several months while working a temporary job. During this time he raided local libraries and sought tours at any laboratories or factories that offered them. Though not particularly talented in grasping the concepts of magic or science, it was understanding the logistics it took to make those things productive, as well as the possible applications of products created as a result of them, that most interested the young Norkotian native. He eventually left Hell's Gate, staying with his parents for a couple months in Norkotia again, before moving to Blairville. Once again, it was the local depositories of knowledge that he was after, which was why he found himself in the library so late that night.

When the Elven librarian stepped-out behind him, it brought Tynes back into the moment. She smiled and offered a well-rehearsed "good night", to which he offered a quick farewell nod, before getting on his way. The streets grew increasingly dark as he drew away from the library and toward the more unscrupulous sector where his cheap apartment was. The danger for a man like him, who had barely shown the aptitude to cast a few sparks with what magic he'd learned at the Academy, was even more pronounced in a city that lived almost strictly on the arcane. And whenever he walked these streets, Tynes found his hand hanging ever closer to his holstered revolver.

"Hey, buddy. Can I interest ya in some Patian death cubes? I get 'em straight from the Black City itself." a sly, raspy voice spoke up behind Tynes.

Turning around to face the speaker, the young Norkotian beheld a cat-like humanoid, donning the garb of a peddler. He was holding something in his hand, though his fist was clenched in order to conceal it from view.

"No." Tynes replied bluntly, not wanting to give this vagabond any sort of leeway.

"Oh, but I insist! These are of the purest stock that ya can find! Ya won't find anything more authentic!" the feline beggar insisted, aggressively stepping in further and unfurling his fingers once his hand was nearly in Tynes's face.

The young Norkotian man tried to back away, but the feline had moved so quickly that it was a vain effort. When the cat's hand opened, it revealed no cubes, but rather a single, marble-shaped object. It glowed ever-so-slightly, while within its glassy outer form, nebulous clouds of magic energy seemed to dance about. Tynes immediately concluded that it was a trick, intending to draw his weapon right there. But, to his horror, he found his arm unable to move, nor were his legs taking him backward any further. The cat moved with such quickness and skill that by the time Tynes realized he'd been near-completely paralyzed by the magic marble, he had been pushed into a dark corner and was having his pockets rifled through.

"Don't ya worry 'bout a thing, sucker." the feline hissed, "It'll wear off in a few minutes, by which time I'll be loooong gone. Oh, what's this...?"

The cat drew Tyne's revolver from its holster, then proceeded to examine for a moment.

"Bah, gunpowder firearm!" the feline spat, "I won't get squat fer this."

Of course, the cat was completely wrong in his assessment, as Norkotian firearms used a petroleum-based propellant called Petrogel in all their bullet cartridges. But this was an invention so specific to the locality that it was understandable for someone from the rest of Terrenus to mistake a Norkotian gun for a powder-based firearm. Still, this incorrect classification did nothing to help Tynes, since the cat chose to steal the gun anyway. The robber further stole Tynes's wallet, a small knife he kept on his person, and a small box of matches. The feline was just about to draw out the young man's keys, when from a distance, the shrill whistle of a constabulary officer cut through the night air. The robber panicked and dropped the keys, before ducking into a dark alley. Luckily for him, the whistle had come from a different part of town, as no officers were in sight on this particular street.

By the time Tynes finally regained control of his limbs, he had made up his mind that he was done with this town. While Blairville was discussing controversial legislation to try and prevent magic crimes, past attempts to do this had failed, leaving Tynes to conclude that the local government was not all that concerned with the plight of the victims. Fed up with the humiliation that magic had caused him, Tynes committed to return to his home once more, never to return to the likes of Blairville until the magic users had reason to fear him instead.

Edited by Tyler

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Richter's Bar & Grill, Circa 26 AO...

Less than a dozen individuals were seated around a sticky table, the waning light of a cold winter day filtering through the dirty windows. There were a couple of older gentlemen present, but most of the assembly consisted of young men, with only two women in attendance. The Norkotian Nationalist League, or what passed for a "league", was holding another of its monthly meetings. This particular meeting came on the heels of a series of local elections, which included a couple seats on the ruling council. Unfortunately, participation in that election was low, and the results were not so well-received by many in the citizenry. Recent economic recessions, unchecked corruption and moral decay had confirmed to many that a change was needed, but many of the incoming officials were of the same stock as those who had caused the problems to begin with.

But unwelcome though they were, it wasn't as though the election results were no unexpected. Power was currently held by a well-organized elite who were funded by corporations, advised by intellectuals and academics, and given cover by favorable media, all thanks to deep-seated corruption and bribery. What was worse, the only real opposition came from those who desired greater subservience to Odin Haze's government. Though many in Norkotia knew little of the rest of Terrenus, they did know that they resented the idea of foreigners controlling their fate. The Nationalist League came into being because the climate was ripe for a real change, but before any such thing could happen, they needed leaders to rally behind. With the chairman up for election in two years, their greatest and perhaps only chance was to put everything they had into winning it. They just needed candidate.

"Joe should run." one of the seated individuals spoke.

That resulted in a scoffing laugh from Joseph Tynes, who had become an early member of the league soon after moving home from Blairville. There were a couple other chuckles, but the original speaker didn't join in with them.

"I'm serious. We need youth in power. We need new blood. Joe knows his shit, plus he's been traveled enough to be able to articulate why outside influence is bad. The young people in this country, even the ones who've strayed from the Directive, want to see something new and purposeful. That's why so many support letting in foreign influence. But if we can convince them that we can still do it ourselves without outside help, then we might have a chance." the person argued.

"I'll do it." Tynes stated, having fantasized about this opportunity for years, yet never having had the chance until now, "If you'll all have me."

A few at the table nodded, others needed a moment before agreeing. Only a couple seemed uncertain about the idea in the end, but they held their silence. It was agreed then, Joseph Tynes was to be the Nationalist candidate for chairman.

"Where do we start?" someone asked.

Tynes rubbed his chin as he considered the sudden responsibility cast upon him, something he hadn't really held prior to now. It might be a mistake on their part to select someone who was more of an information sponge than an experienced leader, but he didn't plan to let them come to that conclusion easily. Even if he had to rely heavily upon advice and support, he would devote his life from here on out into making himself the leader Norkotia needed.

"We start right where we are." Tynes stated assertively, "We start from the bottom, because there is nowhere else to go but up."

Edited by Tyler

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Town Of Bradensville, Circa 27 AO...

Golden wheat fields flowed in the wind as the automobile passed through the rural town on its way to the Norkotian border. The tiny city was one of the smaller ones at the edge of the Norkotian suburbs, but it did had been the site of a recent tragedy that was creating trouble for opposition candidates like Joseph Tynes. A young fanatic named Shane Haydes had set fire to a prostitution establishment just outside the village, having carefully planned the act of arson to cause maximum casualties. The legalization of prostitution had been unpopular with the religious community of Norkotia, thanks to its flagrant violation of Directivist law, but the corporate-sponsored secularists in power had made it law anyway. The crime Haydes had committed was tied directly to his religious disposition, which led to the media putting intense pressure on religious pastors to publicly denounce the violence. Tynes, having proclaimed his Directivist faith publicly, was among the gaggle of candidates forced to release a statement on the matter as well.

But it was neither Bradensville nor the smoldering remains of its whorehouse that interested Joseph Tynes today. Indeed, the vehicle he was riding in had merely passed through the town, en route to an even smaller community called Ironden. The small village lie very near the outermost borders of Norkotia's influence, with only a road to a nearby coal mine giving the government reason to consider it part of the city's holding. But what made Ironden unique was that it was a Vulkish community, which was the very reason the Nationalist candidate was set to visit it.

The Vulks were a greyish-green skinned Elven sub-species, and were the only sentient race in Norkotia outside of humans. Much like the Humans of the area, they had long-ago lost any sensitivity to, or knowledge of, magic, and had taken to the pursuit of practical knowledge in its absence. Their culture had come to strictly adhere to the principles of logic and reason, whilst suppressing emotions and base desires. Though not a religious people, the Vulkish moral code aligned very closely with the human’s Divine Directive. Still, this hadn’t prevented many years of wars, murder, prejudice and exploitation.

The entire affair, both current and historic, greatly annoyed Tynes, who saw very little about the Vulks that could justify the long-standing tensions between the two races. And having had a friend years ago who was Vulkish, he felt a more personal connection to the situation. Indeed, it was that friend that he hoped to meet with today.

Upon reaching Ironden, Tynes and his driver were presented with a dreadfully run-down village, surrounded by piles of scrap and garbage. The Vulks had proven resourceful, using the scrap for a variety of purposes, while burning the garbage for electricity and heat. Needless to say though, the town smelled horrible, which Tynes couldn't help but ruffle his nose at when he stepped out of the car. The villagers either left the street or glared at the new arrival with suspicious eyes. Leaving the driver to watch the car, Tynes walked toward the center of town, then addressed those who remained in the street.

"If Diric still lives here, please get word to him that Joseph Tynes wishes to speak with him." were his words to the villagers.

A couple of them scurried off, while the rest continued to stare at him. One seemed more distrusting than the others, and his hand rested on his belt not far from where his gun was holstered. Tynes noticed this and kept an eye on him, but didn't move a hand to his own gun. A shootout was the last thing he wanted here.

Finally, the two villagers returned, bringing a third Vulk with them. The new arrival was relatively young, seemingly around Tynes's own age, but as Vulks lived over twice as long as humans and aged slower in comparison, he was in reality closer to fifty years old. Indeed, he looked very little older now than he had when Tynes had first met. And though Tynes had matured from his teen years to adulthood in the meantime, the quick-witted Vulk recognized his long-separated friend immediately.

"Joseph." he nodded in emotionless greeting, much in the same way his people were accustomed, "It has been may years."

"Too many, Diric. I apologize for not trying to find you sooner, but life just... got busy." Tynes responded.

"You needn't apologize, Joseph. Remember, it is impossible to hurt my feelings." came the matter-of-fact answer.

"It's good to see you too, Diric." Tynes laughed.

"Joseph, I get the sense that there is more to this visit than simply to reconnect with old acquaintances. May I inquire what that purpose is?" Diric humorlessly questioned.

"You would be correct." Tynes nodded, "I'm currently running for chairman, and I was hoping I could begin the effort of reconciling the problems between our two peoples."

"If that is indeed your intention, then it is an admirable goal. But I fear such promises have been made by humans before, only to be broken once the human has gotten what they wanted. I'm afraid you will find little reception to your efforts." Diric shook his head ever-so-slightly as he spoke.

Tynes expected that sort of response, knowing well enough that even is friend might have concerns about the integrity of his intentions. But he not only saw a pointless division between the two races, but also slyly concluded that should he succeed in mending the divide, the Vulks would be in his debt no matter how much they wished to be objective. No other candidate cared about the Vulks, which gave Tynes sole command of the issue. And while the Vulks were not allowed to vote, having their intellectual expertise on his side would be invaluable. And that thought led him to the more immediate objective of his trip.

"That's why I need you, Diric." said Tynes, "I want you as my campaign advisor. You can help me negotiate solutions with the Vulkish leaders, and I get to have the most qualified man in Norkotia to strategize my election run."

Diric raised an eyebrow, as well as his tilted his head back very slightly, the offer having seemingly been unexpected to him. He didn't need long to think about it though, before responding in his typical monotone prose.

"That course of action is... logical."

Edited by Tyler

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Garrison Ballroom, Circa 27 AO...

The dark clouds of autumn signaled the end of the warm season and the impending arrival of the frigid winter months. Already, the temperatures had grown increasingly colder thanks to the Shawnee Glacier's overtaking of the nearby wastelands, and this winter promised an arctic vengeance as had never been seen before. But the election season had yet to cool, for the final debate was underway in downtown Norkotia City. Though he had seemed a bit out of his league in the first debate, Joseph Tynes had become increasingly more confident and certain in his arguments in subsequent meetings, and had now put forth his best effort in his last opportunity. But as the event began to wind now, and the opportunities were presented for closing statements, Tynes realized that his chance to win over the people was now or never.

"Mr. Tynes, your closing statement." the moderator officially transferred the audience's attention to the Nationalist candidate.

Tynes looked down at his prepared notes, the information there being semi-memorized in his head, but sadly conventional in its political lingo. It wasn't that the message was poor, it was that its proposed delivery was dull. He didn't intend to just go out with a whimper, not after all the work that had gone into this campaign.

"My fellow Norkotians..." he began, drawing upon a classic politician's opening, "In a few weeks, you will be given your first real choice in an election since... well, for many it will be the first time you have had a real choice in an election. Our nation, and we are indeed a nation, not a mere city that warrants nothing more than a dot on Odin Haze's cartographic charts... Our nation is on the cusp of disaster, and it needn't be. For years, political elites have lied, tricked, and bribed their way into office, then put laws into place that you do not support. They say these laws are for the better of Norkotian social advancement, yet crime, moral corruption and economic lethargy are worse now than they ever were before our so-called progressive revolution. But when you ask, what can be done to stop this trend, the only option you are given is by those who would rather we become slaves to a foreign King, who would subvert our society as much as those currently in power do."

As he spoke, a genuine intensity burned in his eyes, as a subtle anger built within as he thought of all that not only the local politicians represented, but also what outside influence could bring to his homeland if allowed. Though he'd been advised many times to stay collected and cool, couldn't help but feel that the only way he could overcome the forces arrayed against him was to connect with the people on an emotional level. In the end, the masses would always be swayed by their passions long before their logical minds could come to a decision. Appealing to those was the only way.

"I offer you the chance to be rid of these non-options. I have traveled Terrenus, I have seen what other cities have to offer. We can match them. We can be better than them! Our nation, now, has the opportunity to stand as a beacon of true progress, advancement, stability, and order, in a time when the rest of Terrenus devolves into chaos. We can restore our values, restore our morality, restore our economy, but more than that, we can put ourselves on the map!" he continued.

"Mr. Tynes, your time us up."

"Just a moment, I was given half the time as the other two, so I'm making up for it now!" Tynes snapped at the moderator, before turning back to the crowd.

He could tell he had their attention. For better or for worse, every soul in the building was focused on him and his words. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to conclude his last appeal to the masses.

"I sincerely hope, when you go to cast your ballot in a few weeks, that you think of what your parents and grandparents did to build our towns and homes. Think of all we have accomplished as a nation, without Odin Haze, without this false social progress, without the non-choices we have been forced to accept for decades. Then ask yourselves, what do you want to leave the next generation? And again, I sincerely hope you realize that there is a choice this time. There is a choice for a brighter future for Norkotia. Let's do this."

As he concluded, a chunk of the audience let out a massive applause, some even getting off their feet for the occasion. Tynes could see he had not affected everyone, for there were many still in their seats, clapping halfheartedly, or shaking their heads in disagreement. As much as it hurt, he had to bear in mind that many in the audience were donors and supporters of his opponents, present only for the formality of it all. He had to imagine his message, inarticulate at times, but heartfelt, would resonate with the thousands of citizens outside of the ballroom. The citizens listening on the radio or watching on the television were his goal. If he could get enough of a turnout to overcome whatever dirty tricks were thrown at him, he may yet have a chance...

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Richter's Bar & Grill Basement, Present Day...

Joseph Tynes looked back to the young woman who's journalistic career could very well be made or broken by this story. She eagerly awaited the chairman-elect's response, as she held a pencil to her notebook so she could jot down his response in a hurry. After a moment of dazed reflection, the Nationalist leader finally graced the girl with a response.

"You can print that the Norkotian people have at last been given a choice, and they've made it. They've chosen to move forward rather than downward. We're going to put this nation among the greats of the world." Tynes said, a bit sloppily, as in the heat of the moment he forgot whatever responses he may have memorized before.

The girl jotted down those words furiously, as Tynes's Vulkish advisor spoke up.

"Mr. Chairman, I suggest we prepare for a full press conference." Diric stated.

"A moment, my friend. Just a moment." Tynes waved him down.

"Mr. Tynes, you are the youngest person ever elected to the position of chairman. What do you think that says about this election and about the state of Norkotia as a whole?" the newspaper intern interjected herself back into the moment, having finished writing down the earlier response.

"I think it says that people are done with the same old story. They're willing... they... acknowledge that it doesn't take a seasoned face to tell them what they already know to be true. We are poised for greatness and we are going to achieve it. But first, we needed youth to correct the follies of the old establishment."

"Sir, I'd highly recommend you prepare a statement for the rest of the press. They will no doubt be upon us shortly." Diric pressed, but in a more urgent tone.

"Set up a podium or something to have the conference at. I just want to finish here." Tynes replied.

Diric didn't approve of the impromptu interview, but he did as was told and departed to prepare a place for Tynes to deliver his address to the larger media assembly that was no doubt rushing here at this very moment. In the meantime, Tynes kept his focused on the intern that was frantically recording the chairman-elect's earlier spiel.

"One more question, Mr Tynes." she finally caught up and looked back at him, "During the campaign, you accused numerous officials, as well as your opponents, of corruption. How do you intend to mend those relationships so that you can work with them to implement your agenda?"

It was here that Tynes's somewhat jovial manner melted away, and his face was set fully in stone as he made his next response. Despite his victory, there were still many powerful men that would seek to undercut him. If he left everything to the natural democratic process, he would get nowhere before his term was over, and things would just go back to the way they were. He couldn't voice all that he intended to do, but he was not going to be conciliatory toward people he truly viewed as enemies.

"Let me just say this: The people have spoken. They want Norkotia's problem's fixed and its future assured. If my opponents want to stay in the good graces of the people, then they will do what it takes to help implement the agenda the people voted for. That will be all for now."

With that, Tynes stood up and went to find Diric. There was still formalities to attend to, some he did not look forward to. But they were just more bumps on that long road to power, a road he had ridden for many years now. But that road was nearing its junction, and the road of power was about to begin...

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Minor Summary

Joseph Tynes, the Nationalist candidate for Norkotian Chairman, successfully wins the election over his opponents. In a moment of reflection after his victory, Tynes reminisces on the numerous events and actions he took in order to achieve this success.

Summary

The Norkotian Nationalist League, a movement attempting to unseat well-entrenched political elites, awaits news of election results in their makeshift political headquarters. Upon learning that their candidate for chairman, the highest office in Norkotia, has been elected, they begin to celebrate their unexpected victory. A newspaper reporter seeks a statement from Joseph Tynes, the new chairman-elect, causing the young victor to recall his road to success.

The first thing Tynes remembers is the moment when he was accepted into the Gaian Academy. Due to the deficiency of magical knowledge in Norkotia, the admittance officials waive the spellcasting requirement for Tynes under a hardship and disability clause. Despite being accepted into the prestigious institute, Tynes feels insulted at the insinuation that magic illiteracy qualifies as a disability.

Tynes then recalls a night in Blairville, a couple years later. After staying too late at the library, he is forced to walk home at night. Along the way, he is robbed by a feline humanoid using a magic device that causes paralysis. After having his gun and money stolen, Tynes decides to return to his homeland, having developed a loathing for magic.

Some months after returning to Norkotia, Tynes falls in with the Norkotian Nationalist League, which selects him as their candidate for chairman. Despite his leadership inexperience, Tynes eagerly accepts the opportunity.

Over a year later, the Nationalist candidate approaches an old friend named Diric, who belongs to a disenfranchised sub-Elven race known as the Vulks. Tynes promises to try and put an end to the schism between the Humans and Vulks, while offering his friend the position of campaign advisor. Diric accepts this offer.

Later, as the campaign begins to draw to a close, Tynes gives an emphatic speech during his closing statements at the last public debate. This last memory brings Tynes back to the present, where he answers several questions presented by the newspaper woman. After offering a veiled threat to his political opposition, Tynes prepares for his first public press conference as chairman-elect.

Notable Consequences

  • Joseph Tynes is elected as chairman of the City of Norkotia, becoming the youngest man ever elected to the city's highest office.
  • The current political elite is horrified by their defeat. They now prepare to fight back against the Tynes administration with everything they've got.

Opportunities

  • Assist the new Chairman and the Nationalist Movement in fighting the corruption within the Norkotian government.
  • Join the political elite as they seek to undermine Tynes's rise to power, using their resources in business, academia and media.
  • Offer help to the flailing pro-Terrenus Government movement, which wants Norkotia to forge closer bonds with the Odin Haze regime.

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