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A Claim of Responsibility


The Shining Hand

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In a blessed attack, which was ensured success by the nature of the act’s moral righteousness, a cadre of guided hands destroyed utterly a symbol of so-called Imperial ‘might’ and the tombstone of a people entangled in a web of despotism. A faithful group of the disciples of the Shining Hand - may the virtuousness of its Path protect it and efficacy guide its aim - struck out with bomb and torch. The act targeted the capital of Imperial decadence and moral decay, Johannesburg, and the obscene monument of its expansion, the Embassy of the Dominion of Malin.

 

Only a single man died in this attack. Let the Empire of Oren - and those who walk in its path - know that the subjugated will not stand solely to burn effigies of tyranny; this attack is the first of the storm and a warning to those who would perpetuate the Imperial enslavement of the races of the realm.

 

In the name of the morality of cause and in stalwart rejection of the right of this Imperial regime to rule the Realm of Axios, the kinsfolk of the subdued and censored are forced to virtuous action.

 

THE SHINING HAND

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"The Shining Hand? What a peculiar name considering the other races they swear to defend have their palms drenched in their own ****." Remarks Leopold as he slow-dances with a mannequin.

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"Obviously wasn't very blessed if only one man died.." Draken says, having not heard anything about this at all.

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Andrik leans back within his chair in the Barbanov studies, he'd flip through the papers detailing the report of another attack, sighing, he'd throw away the papers, "That makes it, what, the fiftieth time an Orenian capital gets bombed? Weak." 

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Artimec thinks to how oppressed he is by Oren. He remembers when a Johannesburg guard assaulted wood elven citizens of the Dominion in the city streets. He remembers, with anguish, how his people were done a GREAT INJUSTICE as the Emperor sentenced that guard to a swift and harsh punishment. Oh wait...

 

He thinks briefly to how a former holy knight once enslaved a wood elven maiden, and the Orenian Emperor's tyrannical and oppressive response to the crime was to nullify the slavery immediately and promise to deal with the offender as soon as caught. Wait that wasn't unfair at all...

 

He thinks how Oren oppresses his religion, faith and culture, how--- wait no that isn't right either...

 

Artimec seemed stumped. He itched his chin dumbly, unable to think why he was supposed to resent the Empire. Oh well! He shrugged lightly, **** Oren anyways, aye?

 

In all seriousness, he informed the Sirame immediately to put a tight guard on the Orenian embassy within the walls of Linandria and keep a keen eye out for terrorist activity.

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"Was anyone actually using the embassy? Seemed kind of empty and pointless to me," says Richard.

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"The Shining Hand bears a striking resemblance to the ancient secret society of The Black Hand, which is, and has been, a trademark owned by Mithius of Clan Dalma for nearly two hundred years. Find a new name or you will find yourself in court.

 

And don't you ever threathen our client's home, the Embassy, ever again."

The Clan Dalma lawyers crack their knuckles and pin cease and desist notices on every Shining Hand poster they can find.

Mithius Dalma slams his fist into the table at the feasting hall of the Palace. "This is an outrage, Your Imperial Majesty! The embassy only holds elves of great diplomatic skill to ASSURE that elves are treated fairly in your glorious realm! What this attack does is just impair our ability to do so and could even threaten to tarnish our good treatment in the Empire with how some elves are giving the race ill repute from bombing beneficial institutes! My, it is like these terrorists haven't done their research and think for some outlandish reason that they can accomplish something from all of this! I humbly ask for a guest room to be prepared for me untill my embassy is rebuilt."

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"If I get blamed for this **** again..." Mumbled Dirk Novokain, distant memories from Vailor come to his mind.

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"Vhat a bunch of pagans trying to disturb our peace. Just another Dreadlandic puppet.", Drasko Kovachev comments.

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"Not the first and won't be the last to try this." Nicholas would remark

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"I, for one, congratulate the terrorists on their fine poster-work! Keep up your grammatical integrity and fine prose, insurgents!" After remarking such, Lucion went on to yell obscenities about tea and quiches, before lying down and having a little sleep. 

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Audwin, an upstart youth primed in Savoyard devilry would be seen wandering around the imperial capital squealing.

 

"**** skins, they're everywhere Dad!"

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Marius shakes his head, scowling at the poster hanging before him. "Time and time again, 'istory 'as shown zat ze elven peoples cannot rule on zeir own. You would sink ze undying race would 'ave a longer memory."

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Moved to the Archive. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it. 

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