Igniting 'The Cadre', the Spark of a Revolution

When I was a child, my mum used to tell us stories of our ancestors. Not just the elves, but heroes from our own half-elven culture after the Great Storm that were lost to the ages in human history. She told us about our noble lineage, warriors of unmatched prowess with both magic and blade, bards and performers so gentile and elegant they could charm the most stoic of nobles, and great clerics who hung the stars in the sky. With her lessons she taught us meager magics, an art lost to the humans. I loved the stories and the lessons when I was a child, but they lost their luster when the gravity of our situation was impressed upon me. The way we were forced to live by the humans, in poverty and squalor. I suppose in some way the stories always stayed with me, even when she passed. I know now she did not want my many siblings and me to grow up cold, and without hope, or a sense of wonder. That and oral history was our tradition. Finding out the world was a lot darker than my mother had taught me made me bitter for some time, but I know now that is just a rite of passage for humans and half-elves alike. Few things poison the spirit like disillusionment.

It was not until I was truly at my lowest that I found a different kind of hope in others of my kind I had never met before.

A few decades ago, I used to be a courier. It never paid much, but it was honest work. At least, that is what I used to think. The monarchy of Florestal liked reminding us that we lived on their land, regardless of how close to the border we were or far from human civilization we happened to be. In that vein, they commonly had us doing undocumented favors with no questions asked. Mostly, they would have us watch the borders we were banished to or assist towns in efforts of logging or game hunting. My services as a courier were recruited by the Crown and I was to start making deliveries. I thought nothing of this because never in my time had I heard of the Crown ordering anything suspicious or illegal. I should have known something was amiss when the recipient of the delivery was the leader of our colony.

I lugged the crate all the way up the mountainside and into the caves where we made our homes underground. I heard clinking inside, but I reasoned it just to be bottles of wine or the like. I will always regret not opening that box before bringing it home. Always.

I was in my own home, visiting with my father, brother, his wife, their children, my other siblings... we have a large family. Had. We were having tea when we heard an unnerving noise, like something breaking followed by a serpent's hiss. Matteo, my eldest brother, left to find out what the noise was. Moments later the halls began to fill with yellow smoke quickly followed by agonized screams.

"Marsilia!" my father bellowed at me, but I was already ahead of him. I grabbed the child nearest to me and bolted for the door. Over and over again I told Lucia to hold on to me, hold on to Auntie, and not to look up. The halls flooded with my kin, clambering to get to the exit. More than one innocent soul was trampled in the panic. The gas began to melt our flesh, quickly and maliciously, causing our skin and sinew alike to slough from our bones like mud. By the time I made it out to the forest, I was dizzy with misery and coughing up blood. It wasn't until I set Lucia down that I realized she was not moving. The only thing that tore me away was her mother screaming at me that Matteo and my father were still inside.

While others yelled for us to get away from the caves, I was going back in. I could see the smoke pouring down the mountainside and turning the world a sickly shade of ochre. There was no ventilation in the caves, nowhere for the gas to go but out. I almost made it back to the entrance when my blistering right leg gave out on me. Ironically, that saved my life.

The gas never properly cleared out, so we were never able to retrieve Matteo's body, my father's, or anyone else's. We had no time to grieve, no time to mourn. The memory of traveling to our sister colony is nothing but a pain-riddled mess for me. I was listless, speechless, for a long time and my sister hated me for it, forcing her to be alone like that. I cannot blame her.

After we were settled with our kin, there was so much clamor from the outrage I can still hear it ringing in my ears. My kinsmen called for blood, human blood, some even going so far as to say we should raid the nearest human town to pay them back in kind. One voice cut through the crowd, aided by those close to her. She bore the visage of any half-elf, but the way she spoke and the way she carried herself with such courage and such countenance - something I was sorely lacking at the time - that I knew she was something else entirely.

"This was done by human hands, and trust me when I say humans will be the ones to suffer but it will be the deserving to meet this fate, not the innocent." She reminded us not to stoop to the evils of humans, the evils of the Crown. This woman assured us she would get to the root of it, and that she did. We learned the queen had put out an extermination order, declaring we were overstepping our bounds and becoming too numerous. So we were to be culled, like vermin.

Knowing the tragedy of what happened to my colony was just the first move of many sparked an incalculable rage amongst my people and deliberations on what move we would make - if there was to be one - lasted for days. I was called in for questioning, to tell my story about the delivery. Against my will, I broke down into tears for the first time since it happened. It was as if it were all a hazy nightmare, but speaking the truth aloud made it real. I was escorted out, yet the whole time I could feel that woman's eyes on me like a cat watches a mouse.

The words 'The Cadre' were thrown around in the following days. When people spoke of them, I got the feeling I should know what they meant, but their purpose eluded me. I came to find that The Cadre was a critical part of our people's history. To hear an ancient 200-year-old crone tell it, The Cadre was once the unseen hand of our people, working to make a better place for the half-elves in the world since sticking our heads out at the time would get them chopped off. Much like now.

The Cadre dated back to almost 400 years ago, before Florestal was even an united nation. The House of Sols & Duun, as well as many nobles, vied for the throne. Our people knew they could not rule, but that did not mean they could not have a seat at the table. While Piero Baldovetti planned to siege the capital of Marta - now Visentia - Diana da Gila Montegu made use of The Cadre, promising more than could ever be hoped for. The Cadre did everything she asked and more, committing terrible deeds for the sake of our people. Sabotage, assassinations, forgery, espionage, all of it. When it was all said and done, Montegu wiped her hands of The Cadre rather than rewarding them for their loyalty. They were all quietly executed and the rest of our people routed.

So why now was it being reignited? Because it was a symbol? I can only imagine. Our people established a counsel across all colonies to oversee this effort, establishing a real structure to our people for the first time in living memory. It did not escape my notice the woman who spoke out was on it. They concluded that our homes in the mountains were no longer safe. If we were to stay, we would befall the same fate as my clan. My father. My brother. His children. For those of us who survived, we carry the scars on our hearts and our bodies to our graves.

We were to leave the mountains and go into hiding, right in plain sight. The plan was for us to immigrate to cities where this newly formed government could oversee and assist. They told us honestly that with this purge, not every life could be saved, but those that can will have a future. As one heart and one mind, we chose that if we were to die, we would at least do it on our feet and not on our knees.

So many of our people were cowed from living their lives treated as sub-sapient beasts. The weight of the world was too much for them and they defected, returning to the mountains and hills they knew. I never saw my sister or her two surviving children after that. For those that stayed, a new and dangerous world awaited. I was caught in the tides of change and I had no choice but to swim with the current or drown beneath it like my sister.

Time began to move for me again and I found myself once more when the initial grief had passed. The grief and the guilt followed me wherever I went, whatever I did, grinding on my soul like a load-stone. The support of those around me bolstered me. Though I was alone, I was not lonely. I was taught a new skill set with ways to get by and evade detection before we were sent in small groups to Visentia, the capital. Others went elsewhere to the other large cities like River's Wheel and Gila where a few travelers or immigrants would go unnoticed. Several of our kin went ahead to prepare the way in the city and I saw the woman on the council was among them. I learned her name was Ismenia, and she was a magician. A real magician, like the stories my mother used to tell me. Perhaps there was a modicum of hope and wonder in this world after all.

The Cadre is not just a movement now, it is our nation of the half-elves as a whole. They care for us, aid us as we aid them, keep us united however far apart, and move behind the curtain to make a lasting place for half-elves in this chewed up, spat out, world. I have found happiness here in Visentia, with a human of all people, learning artifice and the wonders of science. I use my new position in society as an apprentice to aid The Cadre in any way I am able from blueprints to inventions or even potions. Others of our order take a more active approach, employing the old ways of espionage and magic in a world that welcomes neither. Those above me carefully play their pieces on an unseen chessboard and with each day I can feel myself able to breathe a little easier in this tumultuous city. Each day as even the common people of Visentia are stirred to action, I can see the revolution in sight. I can see hope and freedom on the day when it is won and not just for the half-elves, but the humans as well.


In my time here I have come to realize something... we are all working for a better world, but sometimes it is alright if it is just your own world.

Culture

Major language groups and dialects

The members of The Cadre speak a new-age dialect of Elvish and use it as their code for communication with one another.

Culture and cultural heritage

The Cadre is formed of half-elves, descendant from the elves of old before the Great Storm. They now have a culture separate and individual from their ancestors, but are highly traditional.

Shared customary codes and values

The half-elven Cadre believes in equality for all peoples, regardless of race, gender, or religion. They follow a 'do no harm' policy and actively avoid unwarranted actions such as assassinations, bribery, and the like.

The Cadre enforces its members to maintain secret identities while among humans to keep themselves and others safe.

The Cadre refuses to let any of their number go without. Those who have been ousted, or find themselves on hard times, are given shelter and work.

Common Etiquette rules

Active agents of The Cadre avoid harm to enemies unless in self-defense. The organization avoids illegal or questionable activity that would follow it into the future as much as they are able.

Common Customs, traditions and rituals

Half-elves observe a familial hierarchy where one parent, more commonly the mother, cares for children while the father works. In government, the individual most capable or powerful is a leader regardless of gender. Until recently, half-elves had no concept of social class within their society, so this did not affect leadership.

Common Taboos

The leader of the Visentia chapter is a practicing magician, a rare and illegal thing in Florestal. It is not uncommon knowledge amongst the half-elves of The Cadre, but it is never spoken of lest she be found out by enemies of the organization.

Common Myths and Legends

The Cadre dated back to almost 400 years ago, before Florestal was even an united nation. The House of Sols & Duun, as well as many nobles, vied for the throne. Our people knew they could not rule, but that did not mean they could not have a seat at the table. While Piero Baldovetti planned to siege the capital of Marta - now Visentia - Diana da Gila Montegu made use of The Cadre, promising more than could ever be hoped for. The Cadre did everything she asked and more, committing terrible deeds for the sake of their people. Sabotage, assassinations, forgery, espionage, all of it. When it was all said and done, Montegu wiped her hands of The Cadre rather than rewarding them for their loyalty. They were all quietly executed and the rest of the half-elves routed.

Historical figures

A counsel member resides in each major city of Florestal to preside over each chapter. Ismenia de'Rossi leads the Visentia chapter, with Thia and Ephraim Galanath as her spymasters.

Major organizations

Alliances: The Regent's Watch (the queen's secret police), The House of Sols & Duun, various members of Florestinian nobility and aristocracy, assorted military leaders, and the Kingdom of Gentrov (tentative)
Enemies: The Monarchy of Florestal, The Church of Progress