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The Moon Bends A Knee

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House Basileus hereby swears fealty to whomsoever is crowned King of the Holy Kingdom of Oren by the rightful High Pontiff, Regulus I. The House recognizes the illegitimacy and heresy of King Franz-Josef I and recognizes it's own fault in supporting the heretic who would dare name his own anti-Pontiff as he did. Lord Lorethos Basileus requests opportunity to repent before the High Pontiff.

 

Deus magnus. The king is dead, long live the king.

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Lucas shakes his head, likely the only to get out of the battle alive and also unknown among their forces.

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Zacarias Mosquera executes one last final Rose salute before his arm is twisted by one of the hostile soldiers, bent backwards and pinned to the ground with an ironclad boot.  He smirked, his face beyond recognition - an eyeball burst, a cheek slashed open, two teeth missing.  And yet he smirked; he smirked in the knowledge that he had taken two of the traitorous heathens prior to the end of his own life; he smirked at how the gladius ripped through the flesh as it had in the old days of the Dreadfort and Malinor.  His true brethren lay smirking in the mud as well, that much comforted him.

 

"Ave Kaedrin," he mutters coarsely at long last as the spear crushes his old, racing heart, blood erupting from his mouth and choking him to his final demise.

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