(All around Pharloom, thousands of tiny golden spider automatons are moving.)
(They maneuver themselves into public places in roads, settlements, anywhere a bug might live. They stay still, but visible, waiting for something.)
(Waiting to speak.)
(When they do, the voice of the Weaver in Red and Gold rings out loud and clear.)
People of Pharloom.
We are the Red Accord.
We know the history of this kingdom. It is one of oppression by gods, rulers, monarchs, overseers, masters of all kinds. We see the woes of an ailing land which we call our home, and we come to offer something better for all.
It is obvious in every moment of the recent past how the institutions present have failed you. One need look only to the threats have befallen and continue to plague these lands.
Were not Verdania, Bilewater, and Karak laid low by the hand of Conductors, gorged on their own power and vanity?
Was not the Haunting a result of Pharloom's own Goddess trying to claim what she believed was rightfully hers?
Even now, these threats are still present, while your monarchs and masters do nothing to protect you. Khann of Karak marched largely unopposed, despite the looming threat he presented to all of Pharloom; the Green Prince of Verdania stood by and took no action as people fought and died to protect their homes, and the Citadel itself would have fallen were it not for the help of the righteous who came to its aid and the Choirbugs who protected it but received no thanks in return.
More than this, there are other threats on the horizon. The greedy blue Lifeblood vines spread their vile roots into our caverns, feasting on any prey they can catch in their trap. They will not stop till all of Pharloom is consumed.
A warlord of the wastes, one who has spent many long lifetimes conquering others and taking from them, stealing from the innocent and bereft, and slaughtering families, has staked a claim over these lands, and none rise to oppose him.
A Higher Being born of the Void waits beneath us, ready to strike at any moment.
All of this, and more, and more, and more.
Divided, can we stand against such a threat? Divided, are we not prey, to be herded by the whims of those who would seek to use us?
Divided, Pharloom will fall.
Under the Red Accord, it may stand proudly.
We beseech you, all who hear this; heroes, warriors, criminals, the bereft, the wealthy, the noble, the downcast, and every bug in between.
Join the Red Accord. Shrug off the shackles of all masters past, present and future. Help build a foundation upon which Pharloom may rise as a power ascendant, caring for all of its people, leaving no one behind, protecting each culture and environment precious to it, allowing all to live with no rulers in a land that provides for their lives and happiness.
It may sound like a fairy tale, but together, we can make it true.
Together we rise as a tide of Red and Gold to crash against the walls our old masters built around us. Together we burn down the old lies that keep us meek and content.
Together, the Red Accord will liberate Pharloom.
This is the call. Answer it, for the hope of Pharloom and its people.
(The automatons all go silent. After a few moments, in unison, they all return to their previous hiding places from whence they came.)
(The message seems to ring out even still through the air, long after it has passed.)
(Mere hours after the announcement, automatons in many areas have set up red flags with the golden wreath symbol of the Accord, with manifestos ready to be handed out to all who may approach.)
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