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The Withdrawal of the Rosnian People

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The mass exodus from Rosenyr by various refugees, portrayed here prior to the movement.

Recounted by an anonymous refugee of the Rosnian Revolution.

 


  The people had broken through all the barricades of peace, only the harmonious chords of glory and horror being strung in the otherwise dull and silent night. Human morality did not frequent the minds of those yearning for discord, the taste of iron on their tongues far better feeding the beast of challenge and revenge than stability could.

 The lack of sanity was made evident by the thunderous clamoring of stones against the fragile entrance to the walls of Carolustadt, people chanting the name of revolt in a wicked proportion to the amount of air that could hold said screams, an uproar providing deaf ears with sound for the first time.

 

“VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION”

The soldiers stampede out in melodic unison, helmets shielding the dreadful emotions they equally shared as they hauled the beaten body of a teenage boy, whose face had been ridiculed by streaks of red, though it had already gone pale as if dead. His wrists were bound and eyes unable to open, but the locks of brown that formed over his head gave way to his immediate recognition as Cassian Nria, commander of the Rosnian army.

 

Teeth gritted in his presence, and feet grew impatient with rhythmic anxiety.

 

 That sound was the hatred that rung in the hearts of the people, trailing where it was no longer audible the sound of a loose head tossed to slam the chest of a bothered man, where hair slicked through the air. It skipped on the dirt as he released it into the jubilant crowd, and the crown of thorns which it wore scathed the skin of the man it had hit.

 

It had rolled until the people had one by one crumbled their fingers around the light hair that was attached, to stare into the deadened eyes of him, the boy who they had all loved, and the boy that the Rosnians had let die in their carelessness.

 

In front of it all stood he, the one who thirsted for spilt blood, frantically boiling in his demented version of joy.

 

“Remember our people.” They said.

 

 

 

 


Leaving was something that brought fear to the peasantry… However, continuing under scrutiny and impending death brought a greater fear.

 

The gathered reared their gaze over the city they had loved so dearly, then behind them to the path that would soon represent a new life. They had stripped themselves of ill intention and looked upwards to the silent sky, their hope extending beyond the pleas for revolution.

 

It was time for refuge away from Rosenyr… Away from the endless suffrage and fear of impending death.

 

So they went with the wind.

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Timeo de la Baltas recieved this news with a mournful expression. Beleaguering his knees, and if not those, his horse was a heavy heart; none the less, he aided his countrymen who both remained and fled.

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“I don’t recall the execution happening in that manner, we just ended up lopping off heads as fast as we could then completely routing the rescue party down to a single man,” states Maly’thill, one of the men who brought Cassian in for arrest.

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Constantine doubly prepares his priory for the impending refugee crisis.

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Ser Jacques Sauvageot shakes his head as he hears this. He would yell to the townsfolk of Rosenyr. “Do not stop fighting, We will defend our lands, no matter the cost. It is all or nothing. Stand strong in the Principality put faith in me. Viva la RÉVOLUTION” 

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*The newest knight to Rosenyr would look up from shining his armor, reading the message and slightly shaking his head, sadden by the split of the people*

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Torf Valisson falls to his knees at the newly found information of shaking his head. “My Laird... I have failed you.”

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9 minutes ago, Destroyer_Bravo said:

“I don’t recall the execution happening in that manner, we just ended up lopping off heads as fast as we could then completely routing the rescue party down to a single man,” states Maly’thill, one of the men who brought Cassian in for arrest.

(( strong dramatization, was supposed to be after they dragged the body away

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Just now, roseways said:

(( strong dramatization, was supposed to be after they dragged the body away

((understood.

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“O Rosenyr, O Rosenyr.” Barney mourns. He pens a letter to his friend of Rosen, Timeo that the refugees are welcome to set up camp within the borders of the Duchy of Adria.

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6 minutes ago, bungo said:

“O Rosenyr, O Rosenyr.” Barney mourns. He pens a letter to his friend of Rosen, Timeo that the refugees are welcome to set up camp within the borders of the Duchy of Adria.

Timeo de la Baltas, noting this, would send word along to the refugees!

@roseways @Cheesus_Crustt

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“WHAT???? T’ey cu’ ‘is ‘ead off? Tha’s OU’RAGEOUS!” Daisy Applefoot the Halfling would cry out

 

”Clearleh t’ey should’ve chopped off more o’ ‘is bodeh as well! Ye go’ ter make sure ‘e cannae come back as ah ‘eadless zombie! Once t’eh arms ‘n legs are removed t’eh threa’s o’ foul Necromancy decreases sigifican’leh!” 

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Astrid’s face would be sullen as she cleans the blood from her sword. “I killed Kenswey for you, Thoromir. May you rest in peace...and may he stay dead.” With that she limps across her room, recalling the young elf that was cut down in the throne room. “Cassian Nria.” She’d say to no one. “Rest in peace, young one.”

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