Red Rivers

[GloriaPreussens 798]

 

 

The streets of Aleksandria ran red, the 17th of the Amber Cold, 1611. Brave Ruthern lads would conduct a patrol and occupy the city, ensuring the citizens were well kept after and safe, since their Staunton overlords would not. While on a patrol through the markets, these brave peacekeepers were accosted by two race-traitor elves serving the Toddler Empire, geared for war they accused the men of slavery, drawing weapons as the hooded man who watched children of Aleksandria, known better as the Lord Inquisitor, took their side because he wanted armor and weapon. It was when the brave Ruskan Duke came to the Ruthern’s rescue the Elves backpeddled, until finally they struck. Their leader threw alchemist fire into water, as their Lord Inquisitor wet himself and ran, turning tail in a cloud of magic smoke, but all were cut down. The streets ran red and the civilians cheered as HUMANS defended them again, instead of hooded men with strange fetishes, and Elves who accused men of slavery.

 

As the Men of Ruthern walked proud, piking the heads of the idiot Elves and the creepy Inquisitor, the citizens cheered, leading them was the brave Arpad of Ruska, Hero of Aleksandria, bearing proudly the Carbarum Warhammers of the Elven slaves who gladly suckled the teet of the Toddler Empire. Glory to Arpad! Glory to Ruthern! Remove Courrat!

[Guest]

"Goobie giveth. Goobie taketh." recites an aged scribe by the name of Quinn upon writing down this tale.

[Brawms 741]

Just now, Aerial "The Wroth" Kebabu said:

 

"Goobie giveth. Goobie taketh." recites an aged scribe by the name of Quinn upon writing down this tale.

 

A Courlandic peasant would be huddled in the deep of winter praying for the Goobie not to take his starving family

[Goobie 153]

Samwell of Metterden would rest a closed fist upon his heart in salute, pocketing three alchemist fires potions from one of the fallen dagger-ears

[seannie 7443]

Harren of Metterden nods firmly upon hearing the news!

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Artimec shook his head and sips his tea extra somberly, contemplating the wars to come in the quiet of his shrine.

#NotMyElves

[monkeypoacher 8055]

Csaba departs the city, a jitter to his crooked frame as he hangs his head, burying his hands in his pockets. 

[__WaterFox__ 636]

"I hope they know I wanted orcs"  A rather high elf grumbled before taking a hit on their pipe "Oh well... I'm sure someone stronger than myself will get pissed off by those warts"

[gandalfo 1452]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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