Post by Cao Cao on Nov 12, 2009 19:37:08 GMT
Tales of Cao Cao 01 – The Rally
“Taken aback by the thought of he, who shines so strongly in this blissful realm, how broken it is – that one should never gaze upon that youthful face again, as it is shrouded in pain and misery.”
“You promised us exemption from taxes, you promised us with tales of glory, merit and victory – and you returned in defeat, how can it be that you ask us to put faith in your ideals when you’re contending for something the realm beyond that of your jurisdiction raise against you. Are we blinded, or it is that they are jealous – speak to us, oh mighty leader and guide us to the way of freedom and to prosperity – or put away your bitter leash and drive us into the holes we originated from!”
In a court the wording of a jury was gospel, it was law and order. Out on the streets they meant so much more, they represented freedom, direction and authority. The nobles would talk and the plebeians would listen, it had always been this way, ever since the foundations of human civilisation began to rise. Now, it was different, the people would rise, talk and withdraw – each and every peasant alike joining in arms to protest their views, to go to men of higher influence and demand a response. It was so different...and yet so interchangeable in its ideology.
Men gathered, from all over the central plains, flocking in arms before the great Cao Cao, they stood and watched him – they jested with him, argued with him. Some brave men would even insult him; call him a traitor, a bastard and a fool. He took it all that day, but not because of fear or sadness, but because with it he could sow the foundations of hope and trust back into his broken empire. He could rise, no matter how bloody the wound, he would rise.
He had watched the men gather for quite some time and had yet to say even one word. He waited, silently calculating and thinking, waiting for the opportunity to present the case in which he had summed up. The people needed to see something tragic, something harsh and yet sad. A story, yes – something that men and women would relate to, sympathise for and agree with, he needed them to see the truth of his situation, and so ... he waited.
He waited until he saw a man, feeble in nature and weak in spirit. The man was a peasant, whose glassy eyes looked on over the parade with confusion and agitation. He was poor, weak and in worry, his health deteriorated around him, his face crunched back in pain and misery – to Cao Cao, it was like staring into the eyes of a familiar face.
[black]“Have I asked too much upon those who serve me?”[/black] He asked suddenly, arousing the people and steadying the silence. It was strange that even if he said three words the thousands of people would be quiet and listen. [black]“Have I broken my promise? Have I driven you all away with one slight defeat?”[/black]
He turned to the men on each side and opened out his arms. It was an expressive gesture, something that was both worrying and saddening by nature. It resembled a blow to ones chest, whilst still acting firm on its design.
“Is it I who must be strong, who must work hard and fight, for your tomorrow and for your today.” He watched the crowd suspiciously from his platform, his eyes cold and beady. He was not this dictator that people made him out to be, his men knew that – and yet it was painful to realise just how easily the morale of his men could be affected.
“Say, you.” He pointed a hand to the older, feebler man, whose arms were clasped gingerly against a spear. “How are you in such dire times, are you fed, are you well?”
The man nodded and the crowd parted so that he could bow, “I am treated fondly, but I am sick – I wish only to return home, I am tired my lord, tired and ill.”
Cao Cao smiled honestly to the man, and had one of his guards to present the man with a drink of tea that was made in one of his pitching tents at the back of his platforms. He had assembled three camps in total, two recruitment camps and a refreshment camp where he could enjoy his beverages in peace and quiet.
“My son often seeks the same thing.” He spoke only after the man had taken a sip from his cup, and another bow followed. “You know, he is probably the same age as your son.”
The old man smiled and pattered the boys head beside him, “He is a good boy my lord, an honest boy.”
“My men are tired and they were ill during our southern campaigns.” Cao Cao moved his attention back to his people, who had become ghostly white and quiet during his conversation with the older man, “My son is about thirteen years old, same age as the young boy over there.”
He pointed to the boy and the crowd turned back and stared, “He was born frail and has spent most of his life sick. He tries, he really does, he was even there for a few of my northern conquests, our at the front – watching, but..he was sent home with a fever and he was bedridden for three whole months.”
Cao Cao paused as his bottom lip began to shake, he gazed at his people and nodded, “When I am not there he is dying, slowly and painfully. He is just too frail, to sick, but when I am around he puts on a front, he acts tough and he tells me ‘I will be there for when you fall father’, he clasps my shoulder and fetches me a drink. A boy of thirteen, who is already adept in the skills of literature and poetry, but...you must all be strong.”
He smiled as the crowd gathered together, there were no protests now, just the look of a few thousand concerned and upset citizens, “I have never taken back a promise, and I have given you everything I ever could. But, like my son – you too must be strong, you must adhere to the hearsay of our enemies, be patient with the exemption of taxes and be prepared to give everything to the empire, like I – you must be strong. For it is I who has promised to bring you home, to bring you back to your wives, your children and your farms and markets. We must all be strong.”
He casted a wary eye at the men in the front, “But I will not lie to you. The message I bear is not one of good news. No war has ended - no peace eternal. In fact my enemies rise against me every day, they take from me what is ours and what is the emperor’s. So, I have come to ask you to be brave and strong – for our war will only get worse before it can get better. I ask that the men who are able join me, that the women who are able to follow me and for the elderly who can – to rise and speak out for me. I am but one man.”
He gathered a single piece of straw from the platform and held it out in two hands, “Alone, I am easy to break.” And he broke it in half with a gentle tug, “But together.” He grabbed a bigger hand full, wrapped his fingers around the straw and then pulled, “We are stronger than ever!”
“Taken aback by the thought of he, who shines so strongly in this blissful realm, how broken it is – that one should never gaze upon that youthful face again, as it is shrouded in pain and misery.”
“You promised us exemption from taxes, you promised us with tales of glory, merit and victory – and you returned in defeat, how can it be that you ask us to put faith in your ideals when you’re contending for something the realm beyond that of your jurisdiction raise against you. Are we blinded, or it is that they are jealous – speak to us, oh mighty leader and guide us to the way of freedom and to prosperity – or put away your bitter leash and drive us into the holes we originated from!”
In a court the wording of a jury was gospel, it was law and order. Out on the streets they meant so much more, they represented freedom, direction and authority. The nobles would talk and the plebeians would listen, it had always been this way, ever since the foundations of human civilisation began to rise. Now, it was different, the people would rise, talk and withdraw – each and every peasant alike joining in arms to protest their views, to go to men of higher influence and demand a response. It was so different...and yet so interchangeable in its ideology.
Men gathered, from all over the central plains, flocking in arms before the great Cao Cao, they stood and watched him – they jested with him, argued with him. Some brave men would even insult him; call him a traitor, a bastard and a fool. He took it all that day, but not because of fear or sadness, but because with it he could sow the foundations of hope and trust back into his broken empire. He could rise, no matter how bloody the wound, he would rise.
He had watched the men gather for quite some time and had yet to say even one word. He waited, silently calculating and thinking, waiting for the opportunity to present the case in which he had summed up. The people needed to see something tragic, something harsh and yet sad. A story, yes – something that men and women would relate to, sympathise for and agree with, he needed them to see the truth of his situation, and so ... he waited.
He waited until he saw a man, feeble in nature and weak in spirit. The man was a peasant, whose glassy eyes looked on over the parade with confusion and agitation. He was poor, weak and in worry, his health deteriorated around him, his face crunched back in pain and misery – to Cao Cao, it was like staring into the eyes of a familiar face.
[black]“Have I asked too much upon those who serve me?”[/black] He asked suddenly, arousing the people and steadying the silence. It was strange that even if he said three words the thousands of people would be quiet and listen. [black]“Have I broken my promise? Have I driven you all away with one slight defeat?”[/black]
He turned to the men on each side and opened out his arms. It was an expressive gesture, something that was both worrying and saddening by nature. It resembled a blow to ones chest, whilst still acting firm on its design.
“Is it I who must be strong, who must work hard and fight, for your tomorrow and for your today.” He watched the crowd suspiciously from his platform, his eyes cold and beady. He was not this dictator that people made him out to be, his men knew that – and yet it was painful to realise just how easily the morale of his men could be affected.
“Say, you.” He pointed a hand to the older, feebler man, whose arms were clasped gingerly against a spear. “How are you in such dire times, are you fed, are you well?”
The man nodded and the crowd parted so that he could bow, “I am treated fondly, but I am sick – I wish only to return home, I am tired my lord, tired and ill.”
Cao Cao smiled honestly to the man, and had one of his guards to present the man with a drink of tea that was made in one of his pitching tents at the back of his platforms. He had assembled three camps in total, two recruitment camps and a refreshment camp where he could enjoy his beverages in peace and quiet.
“My son often seeks the same thing.” He spoke only after the man had taken a sip from his cup, and another bow followed. “You know, he is probably the same age as your son.”
The old man smiled and pattered the boys head beside him, “He is a good boy my lord, an honest boy.”
“My men are tired and they were ill during our southern campaigns.” Cao Cao moved his attention back to his people, who had become ghostly white and quiet during his conversation with the older man, “My son is about thirteen years old, same age as the young boy over there.”
He pointed to the boy and the crowd turned back and stared, “He was born frail and has spent most of his life sick. He tries, he really does, he was even there for a few of my northern conquests, our at the front – watching, but..he was sent home with a fever and he was bedridden for three whole months.”
Cao Cao paused as his bottom lip began to shake, he gazed at his people and nodded, “When I am not there he is dying, slowly and painfully. He is just too frail, to sick, but when I am around he puts on a front, he acts tough and he tells me ‘I will be there for when you fall father’, he clasps my shoulder and fetches me a drink. A boy of thirteen, who is already adept in the skills of literature and poetry, but...you must all be strong.”
He smiled as the crowd gathered together, there were no protests now, just the look of a few thousand concerned and upset citizens, “I have never taken back a promise, and I have given you everything I ever could. But, like my son – you too must be strong, you must adhere to the hearsay of our enemies, be patient with the exemption of taxes and be prepared to give everything to the empire, like I – you must be strong. For it is I who has promised to bring you home, to bring you back to your wives, your children and your farms and markets. We must all be strong.”
He casted a wary eye at the men in the front, “But I will not lie to you. The message I bear is not one of good news. No war has ended - no peace eternal. In fact my enemies rise against me every day, they take from me what is ours and what is the emperor’s. So, I have come to ask you to be brave and strong – for our war will only get worse before it can get better. I ask that the men who are able join me, that the women who are able to follow me and for the elderly who can – to rise and speak out for me. I am but one man.”
He gathered a single piece of straw from the platform and held it out in two hands, “Alone, I am easy to break.” And he broke it in half with a gentle tug, “But together.” He grabbed a bigger hand full, wrapped his fingers around the straw and then pulled, “We are stronger than ever!”