Daily Mail: Vartanian Campaigns

**Vanaza City, Zonă Capitală, Capital of the Kingdom of Nydia |** We begin this new year with a new nation. Nydia has finally established the rules and guidelines of her constitution, proclaiming a King, and outlining the rights of the people. We now depend upon those very same people, for which this new paper, replacing the former *Federalist Papers*, will be the very voice of. Today, at the dawn of this new era for Nydia, Nazar Vartanian, publisher of the *Daily Mail*, Vanazan lawyer, freedom fighter, and Revolutionary Council member, has traveled by foot to Tsent’raluri Sadguri, or Central Station, a commercial and transportational hub in Vanaza city. Here, he put down a simple, wood box. Many people recognized the war hero and leader, and began to gather around his almost instantaneously as he began to deliver the following speech:

"*Twenty years ago, I worked my way out of the slums which birthed me. I saved up where and what I could in order to pay to go to the Academy of Law, a foremost school for the educating of those who would be attorneys at law. I was an alien there, for many were not even Nydian, or did not share my social class. Every day, I wore the same, old and worn out suit. And many of you have met me by my vocal support for Nydian independence before the war, and from when I led the freedom fighters during, and from my current position now. And since I was a boy, all which I have worked to do has been for Nydia. For the Nydian people. Alongside many of you, I have suffered. I have lost. I have taken lives, but also saved. Not for my comfort, but for the millions of Nydians who live, and the billions who will come after us.”*

The crowd which gathered around the man, bearing a simple, old suit, stood in solemn silence. All sound left the massive hub. The trains stopped moving, and the merchants stopped bartering. Hundreds, thousands gathered to view the heart-wrenching speech.

*”In the constitutional conventions, I fought, with every breath in my body and every bit of my very soul to ensure that you, the Nydian people, were going to be treated as you should be. Life, liberty, property, and God are the fundamental beliefs and principles which drove me to where I am, and which drove me to push for the establishment and enshrinement thereof in the Council. Today, Nydia faces many threats. Many forces which, in a second, destroy our fragile, precious way of life. Be they from the exterior, or be they from within. Insidious men with nefarious intentions, wishing to strip away the very rights and liberties and freedoms for which so many died to establish. So let us work together, as a bulwark of intellect to preserve our Constitution against tyrants and traitors! I would bid you, the Nydian people. I would beseech you to give me your consent for me to campaign to be the first Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Nydia!”*

The crowd roared in applause and cheer. Claps and shouts and whistle galore filled the large, stone building. Some stood on benches to get a better view of Vartanian, who only stood a foot or two above the rest of the crowd as he stood atop the old box which he used to deliver speeches to beer halls in the time before the Revolution.

*”I will not run for a party, nor will I dream of establishing a political party, for I do not believe that now is the time, or at any time, we should be united in our goals for a stable, free, and prosperous nation! Therefore, I shall run as an independent, and not for myself, but for Nydia, for our King, and for God! God bless Nydia! And may He the Nydian people!”*

Vartanian then stepped off of his old wooden box, just to shake a thousand hands. Every man, woman, and child in the old hub wanted to meet him. Vartanian then climbed onto a train, filled with other citizens, who merely gazed at him in awe, or spoke with him at length as they traveled.

**Sagarejo, Baltă, Town in the Kingdom of Nydia |** Sagarejo, Baltă is a town in the easternmost region of greater Nydia. It is home to small farming communities and villages, and conservative, as well as socially liberal, beliefs which drive the populace to be familiar and friendly to what Vartanian will say. Vartanian took his old box, and went to the center of the old town by a communal water fountain. He stood atop his box, and farmers began to gather around in their traditional outfits and their livestock. Vartanian greeted all of them, and the began to speak:

*”My fellow citizens, you are the very blood of our great nation! I may be a city man, born and raised, but I am not alien to suffering. It may not be similar to that which you experience, but we all go through our lives, enjoying or despising the company of varying experiences. I come to you, not only as a fellow citizen and a Godly man, but also as a man beseeching you grant me your consent to campaign to be the first Prime Minister of Nydia!”*

The far smaller crowd than what was at Vanaza clapped and smiled graciously, but they had yet to seem too impressed with the speaker. Vartanian place a hand on his hip and use the other to express the words which breached his lips as he spoke.

*”I am a warrior, an orator, and above all, a Nydian. I have fought, bled, suffered, taken and saved lives in our tremendous struggle, as have many of you. In the conventions of the Revolutionary Council, alongside some of my honorable peers, I fought for the rights of all Nydians, despite race or gender, not only for their rights to speech, but also for life and self-defense. Many of us have debated the wicked Socialists led by Mr. Tengiz at every turn. He calls for the dissolution of our monarchy, which is now the very fabric of our nation. So I call upon you, Nydians, join me in locked arms and stand against there deceivers! Vote Vartanian!”*

A crowd had gathered by this time, and they cheered and applauded the good but short speech. Vartanian now stokes the flames of nationalism, conservatism, and those in opposition to Tengiz and his Socialist thugs. This is a new era for Nydia, indeed. Not only shall our lands be independent and free, but also chained down by political enities and intellectual infighting. Yet, there stands a glimmer of hope: Nazar Vartanian.

Signed, *Nazar Levon Vartanian*