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Warhawkes Ride


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A DRUNKARD ON A MULE RIDES THROUGH LINANDRIA AND MOMENTS LATER A BOOK FALLS FROM HIS BACK POCKET!

 

[Short Play]

 

In comes feces drenched dark elf from stage left (henceforth referred to as ‘coward-hawke’) and stands before the great city of Linandria.

 

From stage right saunters in a urine stenched dark elf (henceforth referred to as ‘quiet-hawke’) and greets his comrade in an open-mouthed kiss.

 

Coward-hawke: Do you see this city, little brother? [Softly  to brother]

 

Quiet-hawke: Yes, big brother. [Softly  to brother]

 

Coward-hawke: Filled with degenerates, and evil people. [Softly  to brother]

 

Queue a wood elf woman to notice the pair and give a gentle smile, and wave, before walking off.

 

Coward-hawke: Oh how I hate them so. [Softly  to brother]

 

Coward-hawke: Long live the Warhawks! [Shouting to Linandria]

 

Quiet-hawke: Brother! What if they hear you? [Softly  to brother]

 

Coward-hawke: Then we shall fight them, and end their lives! [Softly to Linandria]

 

Moments of silence before the sounds of horse-hoofs echo as several sirame clad in armour with a strongly suited wood elf (henceforth referred to as ‘Artimec’) leads the group.

 

As the horses stop, quiet-hawk releases their bowels and begins to tremble.

 

Quiet-hawke: My brother and I shall kill you... You filth... [Softly to Artimec and group]

 

Artimec: You and, whom? [Authoritively to quiet-hawke]

 

Quiet-hawke would turn and notice that coward-hawke several hundred meters down the road already, a line of liquid tracing their path as they ran.

 

Artimec: Leave my lands. [Demanding to quiet-hawke]

 

Quiet-hawke: Yes sir, thank you sir. [Softly to Artimec and group]

 

After a moment of groveling he runs to be reunited with his brother.

 

[End]

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"Huh." Arthur murmurs with a blink

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Guest

"I've never known a play to be so accurate," says Finnadh.

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"The cast and producers of Warhawkes Ride, which I hear is highly overrated, should immediately apologize to Ereinion Taloha for their terrible behavior," announces Hermann von Locklear und Stahl, the show being premiered on his eighty-ninth birthday celebration.

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Erolas laughs "Ahh, another wet fantasy ripped straight out of the diary of artemic" 

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"Bu' ser Leopold, ah though' all dem elfen are filth, an' nee' tu be kille'?" asks a curious goobly fancyhat to ser leopold of the castle of wasterwald @Zhulik

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"I do hope they hire a competent special effects technician for the onstage gore!" Iat says, having perhaps been in the wood elven city long enough this seed to witness this account.

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Khlive plays an awe inspiring war song whilst hearing of this.

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Dirk nods a few times, "Fine work, fine work indeed."

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"Did- Did they just call a Warhawke quiet.." Chirr muttered looking over the page.

"And where the **** is the drunk Hawke- tsk tsk." The Warhawke shook her head thrice before crumbling up the paper, tossing it to the local corner.

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"I'd laugh if almost this exact situation did not happen earlier." Dak'ir shakes his head, smoking from his pipe and doing spirit man stuff.

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"YOU WERENT EVEN THEREEE!" Shouted an angry Leila from across the room.

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