Ave Adria, Ave Orenia

[Pav33 101]

Lukas would take in a deep breath and then exhale. The felsen watchman looked upon the ruins of the city in which his father hailed from; Brelus. Once a bustling metropolis, now nothing more then rubble lost to time. He approached the city slowly, watching as the musty old farmhouses turned into burnt out shops and residences. He climbed the old steps of the church and sat there, looking out into the beyond. He saw several small manors, standing there almost mocking the old jewel. He stood up, brushed himself off, and walked on. He wasn't here to insult the keeps of the minor barons, no, he was here looking for an answer. To what question he had no idea. He came there for a purpose, a meaning to his life. Why he came to a ruin, not even he truly knew. Perhaps it was because it was the place of his father's birth. Or perhaps it was because it was the city that had once housed his kinsman.

He slithered through the unkempt roads and pathways, finding an old house. He climbed into the place, the old walls smelling of mildew and mold. He found a ladder which he used to descend into the unknown. All he found were old workbenches and a few furnaces. He walked over to the furnaces, almost in an attempt to warm himself, to no avail. Of course, the furnaces probably haven't burned but a twig for over three decades. He brushed past the old pickaxes laying on the benches, and climbed back up. He continued on, and that's where he found it. Small patchwork, not looking more then half a decade old. It inspired him, made him feel like people still cared for the old Adrian traditions. And thus he started planning. Adria may have been long gone, but that did not mean it's legacy did not live. He drew a breath, and said simply a small phrase.

"Ave Adria, Ave Orenia"

He'd pray for Godan's help, for he would need much. It was time for Adria to rise from the ashes, birthed anew under the banner of the empire.

 

[lawnmowerman 3040]

Athirius Roke rolls in his grave.

[CheekyNolan 5420]

An old orderman still wearing the white and gold of his time looks from the seven skies with a sombre expression.

[idiot 502]

A ginger man would glance toward a tucked away set of armour as he always did.

 

It still bore the white and gold tabard, it had faded, it was unused.

The memories remain.

[osumanduas 1442]

Stanimir Vladovic shutters in his Atherian grave. As one of the many founding pillars of Adria he would groan out with an unliving fervor as he is pulled from the afterlife to express his discontent with this horrid idea.

 

"Let it die unless Cracker or someone competent wills it revived, which will never happen. I don't want my city turned into some sort of Aethermoor filth."

[Cjmate 1270]

"No." 

[Rivk Zavadsky 700]

Rick Felder II remembers the war against Adria while he's one his boat, thousands of miles away from vailor.