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Another Corpse for the Tree


Cya

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Another Corpse for the Tree

“I will relish killing you” -Avalon Silversteed

 


The crisp evening wind bit at the two men as they faced off on the flat patch of earth. Surrounding them a brace of men bearing heraldries of greens, reds and a large contingent of Long eared dominion warriors. One of the men, a large man, broad of shoulder clad in a cuirass emblazoned with a tree of gold, his helm an ornate affair with a circlet of thorns adorning its peak. Across from his, a tall slender man, bearing a chest piece covered in black and white cloth. On his shield a rearing Silver Stallion. The air surrounding the two was silent, each saying their final prayers before this duel to the death. An old man would approach, slowly passing the red man with the support of his cane. He would pause for a moment whispering to the man, followed by the man rubbing his head with a sheepish grin upon his face. Then he would move to stand between the two. “King Jory of House Rurik shall cross blades with Avalon of House Silversteed. The latter has claimed trial by combat en lieu of total warfare in hopes of securing the freedom of his Hold fast. This is a duel to the death for both men, may the All Father’s Holy Flame bless he here who is righteous” he would say glancing with some visible apprehension towards his nephew. With that he would draw his hands together signaling the beginning of battle before quickly hobbling to the edge of the field.

 

 

The two men would circle one another, the tension weighing heavily on the air. Suddenly Jory would lunge forward, smashing his longsword down upon the length of Avalon’s shield. Avalon would respond, thrust his shield forward attempting to push through Jory’s attack, causing Jory’s blade to become embedded in the depths of the shield. Cursing the king hurled himself forward, releasing the blade and lunging for Avalon’s sword arm. The two would tumble to the ground, Jory landing astride the horselord. Clasping both hands around Avalon’s fist and wrist he would begin to force the blade around, turning it towards Avalon’s lightly armoured throat. Avalon would punch at Jory’s face with his free hand, but his blade hand was stuck, caught in the vice like grip of a man intent on his prey.  Suddenly, Jory would emit a primal screaming jolting forward with his full weight behind the blade. The blade would slide past the lordling’s meagre defences and sinking deep into his neck, halting only as it connecting with the spine. Avalon’s sneered one last time launching a globule of blood and spit feebly upwards towards his killer before the last light dimmed and faded from his eyes. The duel, a brutal affair ending with a man dead in the mud, his lungs filling with blood as his corpse stiffened.

 

Jory would stand, his heart pounding wildly, the duel had started and ended in an instant. The rush of it all had dulled his fear and heightened his rage. But looking down he saw not a proud lord fighting for what he believed in, but a sad man nearing the end of his prime, lying dead in the mud. The rebellion had ended, a dark and dirty affair ending in a sordid fashion, almost fitting. Jory turned to his men, their cheering not quite reaching his ears as he looked about a smile slowly filling his face. “Hang him from the tree” He would say to his men, as he’d march off. It was time to go home.

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Veidan recalled watching the duel, nodding slowly at the outcome. 

 

"Load off our shoulders."

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"The blessings of the All Father and the bald head were proven once more" says Arthas

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Richard would finish reading the document, a smile appearing upon the man's face.
"Finally the Oathbreaker has fallen" Richard states before walking off to congratulate Jory on his victory! 

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A cloaked woman nods in approval. "Good." She says to no one.

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"Jory Rurics display was that of a mighty, fearsome duelist of the battlefield, but sadly I cannot say that Avalon Silversteed had displayed similar prowess." Thomas adjusted himself in his seat and reminisced about the duel, his tone now becoming much more negative "Now, the Arborites will stop squatting beside the road to the Dominion, acting like a clot in an artery,  unless they wish to suffer the same fate their slain king had befallen."

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Ajax would remember this awful sight

 

"My Good King rests in the Seven now"

 

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"The Arbhor-King is dead. Long live the King."

 

says Kairn snobbishly to himself while getting high under a tree.

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"Oho, the end of the house Silversteed has finally arrived. I will not be debuting a return for it. Even if I wished, I cannot as I honored the stripping of my Silversteed name. I hope William lets it rest now that it's founder lies in the mud. Fallen, cold, and dead." says Atturi, The once Cousin of Avalon Silversteed, in a rather grim tone to usher in this fact. "May the dead rest in peace."

 

 

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Ser Hakon wraps his arm around Avalon, sitting beside him in the Hall of Valkyria high above.

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5 hours ago, Malgonious said:

Ser Hakon wraps his arm around Avalon, sitting beside him in the Hall of Valkyria high above.

A Red Faith Purifier scratches the back of her head, unsure how to explain to the spirit of Ser Hakon that Avalon became a canonist before death, therefore he would not reside with the All-Father.

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5 hours ago, Malgonious said:

Ser Hakon wraps his arm around Avalon, sitting beside him in the Hall of Valkyria high above.

"Avalon is in Canonist heaven, had to convert in an attempt to save himself." says Ser Jorvik Ruric as he ponders what would have happened if Avalon didn't convert.

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