Telriana is Razmir's loyal servant, in the specific sense - well, first in the specific sense that she likes him, it's kind of hard not to once you realize that under everything the god-king is a terrified old artisan used to looking to authority who has no authority to look to, but also in the sense that she decided that she really ought to be loyal if she was going to switch to Team Evil as long as they didn't do anything too unexpectedly evil.

This is actually the first time she's regretting that! Whoever is doing this radio thing is really brilliant and they need someone on it to spill all the ancient secrets of the elves of Kyonin, like, now. She's regularly checking it but they don't even see this is a gap they're missing! Ancient druidic lore is going around still being secret, even the bits that aren't secret secret and are just things her mom doesn't tell people because her mom is evil!

Unfortunately, she can't do that without going off and going on a heroic quest to track them down, which would stop her from casting Plant Growth a lot.

Sigh. Being a good person sucks wait oh godsdamnit no she needs to go do this like tomorrow or she'll lose her alignment! Wait, if she does this she'll also lose her alignment! Help! What's the Neutral thing to do here???

The Queen of Mendev is very, very tired.

Radio is good. Radio is helpful. Radio lets her troops listen to the music of home when on campaign, hear about weather somewhere the answer isn't "snowing," have a little joy when they are trapped on the frontlines. The priests of Abadar tell her it will do various good things to her economy. And as an Arodenite, there is still this dry, dessicated part of her heart that attempts to thrill to the wonders of this tiny machine that is a "radio receiver," that any smith can build and can pick up messages sent from across the world.

But the Queen of Mendev is very, very tired. And mostly she cannot bring herself to actually, in her heart, feel actual happy emotions (though she can counterfeit them for her subjects), when she goes off to die for Mendev (again) and be badly mauled fighting under a faceless knight's plate and heal herself with a Lay On Hands and then smite the monster to death, that there's some new invention out there that is making her people happier and wealthier. It's not a weapon, not against anyone who can be moved by words.

And Mendev needs what Mendev has needed for a hundred years: Weapons, food, soldiers, money.

Not words. It has enough of those.

Ettore Castelloni suspects radio isn't an evil plot, because most evil plotters are kind of dumb, and at the point where you can invent a completely new nonmagical (he checked) device that works for anyone who builds it anywhere on the world you are really smarter than the typical demon lord. But he's not sure it's not. So he needs to be constantly monitoring what evil plots it's useful to. His best guess is that song-sorcerer magic works across the receivers, but it might be something else, like radio receivers working as scrying focuses or something you can broadcast that makes all the little receivers with their headsets explode while all the important people's scribes are listening to them.

So - best to tread carefully, forbid his assistants from listening directly, copy everything they say down, and monitor the behavior of his official Radio Listener-To to determine if it's seriously different from before he started listening.

(His best guess is "yes, because he's listening to commentary on chariot races all the time." But it's not a confident guess, and it could just be an evil scheme the way most things are.)

"And now," said the King-In-Irons, "you will broadcast the following message."

(There was blood on the King's steel sabatons, and blood on Alexandre Esquerra's leather boots under the illusion.)

Pedra passed the paper to the official Chelish broadcast officer for the Westcrown circuit, who said, "Ggghk."

(In his defense, Jaume had a rapier to his throat.)

Alexandre studied his face as he read it. It was quite entertaining, if you happen to have a grudge against the sort of people who become official Chelish radio broadcasters, which Alexandre did.

"I suggest you don't get any bright ideas about deviating from my script," he said calmly, "do believe that, while I am perhaps not quite as inventive as Hell, as I am here and it is not it is still preferable to listen to me."

"Gghhk," said the official Chelish broadcast officer for the Westcrown circuit.

"I do recommend deserting, afterwards. There's room in our travel bag, if you happen to need it."

"Burn it. Then whatever won't burn, melt."

Remek Czaszar, recorded in ancient histories as Uachdaran Mor the great foe of Iomedae, former and rightful emperor of Avistan Taldaris II, last of the Iustinid line, and lich-king with a vast army of undead warriors, is looking at a radio.

Lichdom is more precisely crafted than other forms of undeath; Czaszar's armies often describe their immortality as a "torment," or as "better only than the flames of Hell themselves," but the only problem liches face is that slowing of energy, that loss of swift rage that motivates the dreams of the youth, that has forever ridden alongside immortality. Lichdom (Czaszar will explain, if he has anyone to explain to who hasn't already heard the speech) sharpens the mind, increases both wit and will, strips away all the distractions that stand in the path of the pursuit of greatness.

He therefore reacts much, much better than the typical person several thousand years old to this exciting new technology, the "Ray-de-oh." Swift communications? He has plotted wars with sendings and permanent telepathic bonds and dungeon rings just as he has with angelic birds and flying imps. This is merely one more tool for his armies to use, and he can already see how it will be a useful one, when the time finally comes that his hordes should march into Ustalav.

"Good evening, Avistan. This is Freedom, reporting live from an undisclosed location probably somewhere inside Creation.

Razmir is bored. He is trying to figure out what to do about the latest budget shortfall, or more accurately he is trying to not do that, and to, instead, find something else to pay attention to while he procrastinates that. (He would love to drop it on Telri's desk but his priests are annoyed with her enough already and he's had to assign her extra bodyguards just so nobody who thinks whatever her latest Good idea is doesn't have His support and murders her for treason.) Right now he's casually listening to the new radio channel his divination suggested would be interesting.

If you tune over to 95.5, the Church of Abadar will certify that I have sworn to them this morning that to my knowledge no lie has ever been spoken on Freedom Radio. That was an easy thing to swear, as this is our first broadcast, but they're going to tell you every day when they last heard it from us.

Well, that's clever of them...

Freedom Radio is here to tell you the truth, whoever gets mad about it. That's why we're reporting live from an undisclosed location. 

Location: Somewhere in Andoran, obviously.

Identity: A noble fool.

Life expectancy after saying something annoying to someone with power: 3.6 moments.

Well, Freedom Radio's running because we think the truth can do very nearly everything. I can tell you what I'd do if my child was sick, and maybe it'll save yours. I can tell you if there's a war brewing, so you can hide what's precious to you when there are soldiers marching towards it. There are some things terribly wrong, in our world, and a world united can beat them into the dust, and a world that doesn't know what's true and what's a lie doesn't stand a chance.

... A world that doesn't know what's true and what's a lie is the default state of the universe as it always has been and will be, both before and after the apocalypse.

There's a lot of things in this world that work because people are ignorant. And Freedom Radio is going to make sure that no one will ever be able to take advantage of your ignorance again. 

Yes, like all government on the planet - Oooh, look at that! She said something annoying to someone with power. Greater Scrying takes only a moment - 

Okay, does he want to blow up Andoran over this? - Obvious question, Razmir. He totally does. Does he plan to blow up Andoran? 

... Nah. But then she would get away with this - 

"BRING ME THE HEAD OF FREEDOM!"

(He will, in fact, calm down enough to call off his assassins within an hour or two. She's mind blanked; she could be part of some complex scheme by the returned Runelord, instead of the Andorani idiot she's pretending to be.) 

(And he's not that bad a person.)

(Telriana is free to believe that if she wants to.)

(this in fact takes place before the last Alexandre tag)

The King-In-Irons is forging plates for the new armor he's crafting for Carlos, relaxing after a long day of studying reports on the country estate of the Duke he intends to rob come Oathday, when his butler knocks.

"Come in."

"Sir, you will want to listen to this."

He'll put the plates down, and, idly entertained, catch - 

We sent them a note. It said that when the worship of the Good gods is permitted in Cheliax and when Cheliax's children grow up healthy and happy and strong and when newspapers telling the truth are sold in Chelish street corners, we'll be happy to host them on the show. And we will, though I'll tell you how that's almost certainly going to go down.

"Oh, this is going to be good."

"Cerrano, send a message to Sivandivasen. I think if Asmodeus's followers aren't going to make any appearances on this show, it should have someone prepared to speak for Lawful Evil."

And then we'll legalize the worship of good gods, and bring good modern medicine and invent even better more modern medicine, and we'll allow any newspaper that speaks the truth, whether the people in power like it or not. 

Razmir is, frankly, confused by this whole speech. Clearly the point of having a radio was for Radio Free Avistan with the Voice of Freedom going around propagandizing to everyone; clearly whoever is responsible has vast and terrible powers beyond those of mortal men, and intends to overthrow the Chelish government (as Freedom admits) and take over the world.

He just has absolutely no idea who would possibly do this. Cyprian? Cyprian has his own censors and secret police and tame senators who make sure every vote is ninety-nine percent in his favor. Codwin? More subtle but the same nonsense. Democracy simply doesn't work, and no one who could do this would actually try to convince people of it. Maybe Milani has decided to personally incarnate an avatar, he has no better suggestions.

Either way, his allies-by-necessity are about to do something fantastically stupid, and Razmir is going to continue hiding in his Actually Secure Demiplane and have as little as humanly possible to do with the chaos that results until such time as the smoke has cleared and he can offer to sell spells to the winning side.

He has returned from another glorious expedition! His treasury is bulging (he makes the usual donations to the Church of Norgorber and the Church of Iomedae and the Church of Calistria all the other churches of the gods he worships) and now he can go home and listen to - 

"Someone tried to cast a Wish, to interrupt our conversation. Now, it could be that they hate early-born babies, but that wouldn't actually be my guess."

Alexandre Esquerra is not an Abadaran. Abadarans do dumb stuff out of "gratitude," and he is merely motivated by his desire to destroy Cheliax as efficiently as possible.

Either way, Alexandre Esquerra was not on the Wish list, which (a) means that he needs to try harder and (b) means that he should send Freedom a fruit basket or a new Cloak of Resistance or something, because she probably bumped him off of it!