Fall of the Iron Citadel

The Iron Citadel was a place of terror. Men there had forgotten the meaning of humanity. They sacrificed theirs, if they ever bore such, to greater deities: Knowledge. Pride. Power. And in so doing, they made themselves enemy to every other person in our country.

They swept down upon us like a terrible tide, wreaking mayhem and catastrophe. Our warriors were slain, or made captive. Our citadels were ruined; our people taken to their lair, for 'experiments' and other atrocities best left untold. All hope seemed lost.

Then the hero of legend appeared. Few knew of him at first. But as time passed, the legend spread: the only man who could resist the Iron Guard. The emerald warrior of the sacred blade. He who knew not defeat, even when pitted against the greatest of the enemy's legions.

Many joined him, in his quest; most providing supplies and equipment, some few accompanying him. I was one of the first of the latter. When he slew the Giant of Three Names, I was the one who handed him the fateful arrow; when he defeated the men responsible for the Sack of Rivercross, I was at his side, shielding him from the foes who sought to surround him. Even in the terrible flood that nearly swept away all of our hopes, I was at his side, swimming as hard as I ever have to keep up and reach the great chain before the Iron Guard severed it. I saw his efforts defeat those who terrorised our land; I saw him, with the effort of his own hands, restore hope to our land.

Some fools among us now, in the days after the great victory at Snowpoint, would question his achievement. They would not dare question his bravery; no, not even they would go so far. But the legend spread - spreads even now - that the gods themselves gave him the strength and power that he possessed. Bah! Fools. It was his hand alone that struck down the dark lord of the Iron Citadel; no god strengthened his arm. I, who was with him from the beginning, never saw a god at his side.

You called me here today that I might provide my view on the proposed re-opening of the Citadel. The argument goes, I understand, that the same gods who aided the Hero of Legend will protect us from the corruption of the Iron Citadel. This is folly, and nothing but. To venture into that cursed place once more would put at risk everything that the Hero - that all of us - worked so hard to achieve. The Iron Guard could rise again! No gods will shield us from such a tragedy. We must not go there again.

I rest my case, your honors.