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The Young Duke's Lament


Noer

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Josip’s Lament.

 


 

They’re all mad, the lot of them.

 

Fiends! Usurpers to the crown, savoyard pigs and cossack curs!

 

They’ll not have it, no, they will most certainly NOT!

 

Josip flings himself to the rafters, wailing out his grievances to the world!
 

No, no he doesn’t. They’d kill him where he stands, wailing and all.

 

Josip flees the scene, unbeknownst to his council! Avoiding death! A tried and true HERO!

 

Yes, but the crown! Yes, the Crown, he’ll take the crown too! They can try to take me, but I’ll always be with the coronet! It will be, forever, until he dies, MINE!

 


Josip stands from his chair, his left hand’s fingernails bitten to their pink ivory core. He rose, clutched the coronet in his hands, went forth from his palace, and fled.


No treason will be unpunished, none!

 

I’ll kill the lot of them, one day, the lot of them!

 

Pigs, fiends!

 

Lunatics!

 

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The Princess of Ulgaard would exhale, hearing word of this outburst from some traveling merchants on their way from the northern crossroad city.

 

“He is going mad...though with this horrible frost, perhaps we all will.”

 

She’d pull her furs further around her shoulders, trudging through the sizable snow drift that had blanketed Saint Karl’s Square.

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Ser Henrik Ludovar would hear the word of the Duke Josip before a smirk comes across his face.

“Well then.”

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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. 

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