A Response to Peter

[Narthok 10416]

A Response to Peter

---

Dearest Peter, I do not fear an Emperor who is weaker than his vassals.

 

          You bear your many titles as a mask. No doubt you fear you would be unmanned without them. I do not suffer from such misfortune. My folk know me simply as Godric, for I am who I am, where I go men follow. This is a privilege I have earned with much effort from both myself and my countless predecessors. Folk know a Ruric’s word is dearer to him than his own life. For as you noted, how many times have we ridden fire and steel into death’s inescapable maw. When an oath is made, a hand shook, it is a surer bond than the strongest of steel chains. 

 

          You claim the noble lineage of Pertinax. Perhaps one of the greatest houses of man ever to tread the mortal world. Yet you surround yourself with lawyers, tongue twisters and oath breakers. Much in the manner of Johannes. The prime vassals of the Empire of Peter, Haense?  Famous oath breakers. Famous incompetents. What great victories have come from the realms of Haense Being slaughtered by a tenth their number? Drowning in their own blood as they, despite massive numerical advantage are repulsed from Helena?

 

          It was my folk and my folk alone who maintained their oaths through it all. From the shattering rout of the first Battle of the Bridge. To the unmatchable victory at Helena. With my compatriots and I lies the ultimate charisma. The charisma of truth. The men of Haense deceived the Auvergne. The men of Haense attacked the Auvergne in the lands of Rubern. The men of Haense attacked one of my own warriors. Five of them falling to his blade before he himself fell. And then the men of Haense died. 

 

          Our demands are reasonable if not charitable. Fifteen thousand weregild for the lives of the dead and the ails of the wounded. And the surrender of the two officers who orchestrated the ambush. I have made my oaths to the alliance. I will protect the men of Auvergne. I will protect every member of the independent states. To my last day, to my last breath. 

 

Father be merciful.

---

Godric,

[sneakybandit 1650]

A dwarf sits back and eats some popcorn

[SaltAlt 606]

Alaric would nod, returning to his training “Be sure to bring me the next message, this is just getting good!” he’d say as he dismissed his attendant.

[sophiaa 778]

The Duchess accepts the gift of a captured boar from a citizen of the Realm, promptly slaughtering it herself. She then uses the fresh kill to make an offering, praying for the safety of her family, and a swift end to those that oppose the Ducal Throne. 

[gandalfo 1452]

15 minutes ago, sneakybandit said:

A dwarf sits back and eats some popcorn

Another dwarf sits back eating some of that popcorn, “lets go sell weapons to both sides.”

[bungo 3965]

Duke of Northland,

 

Truly we are not so savage as to demand our sacred Weregild in the form of baseless currency. I beseech you that we reevaluate the worth of our dead and wounded. Rather we should demand for three goats, one female of-course... along with a baby calf. I believe this will bring us more worth to us within our noble and genteel lands.

 

Yours faithful,

Ragnarr Caesarsunnu Tiber

And as always, praise Wotan.

[Callistus 988]

The smithsman struck upon his great anvil, yet fell afeared of the flames that came to rise;

“Tsss!”

[Narthok 10416]

2 minutes ago, bungo said:

Duke of Northland,

 

Truly we are not so savage as to demand our sacred Weregild in the form of baseless currency. I beseech you that we reevaluate the worth of our dead and wounded. Rather we should demand for three goats, one female of-course... along with a baby calf. I believe this will bring us more worth to us within our noble and genteel lands.

 

Yours faithful,

Ragnarr Caesarsunnu Tiber

And as always, praise Wotan.

True as **** Ragnarr worshipper of Wotan. We should not submit to the silly currency of the middle eastern merchants. I shall instead demand twenty bolts of cotton, fifteen cattle, three female slaves and a crate of iron bars.

 

Yours in Raiding,

Olaf Olafsson 

Praise the holy Varg Vikernes from whom I claim direct descent 

[monkeypoacher 8055]

“To the blind sot Godric,

Spare the rod, it seems, and you spoil the child. The child that had not yet grown a chest hair before the signing of the Treaty of Reza, who grew up in a peaceful mankind. The child who could not have lifted a shield in defense of his country ere the madness subsided and the Johannian pretender gave up the ghost. Who are you to claim the laurels of your “folk?” What “folk” do you refer to? Is it the folk that lived in a pile of rubble outside Fort Loches, who hooted indignities from their mudhuts while real men, Canonist men, bled their life’s blood for an inconclusive war?

 

I was born in Auvergne. I harvested wheat in the field that once was Dunharrow, and with my own two hands I carried rocks away from Fort Loches. I planted tulips on the field that once lay fallow in the shadow of a vain monument to a meaningless conflict. I witnessed the victorious Renatians pass from the world, and I saw babies born who knew only peace. I watched a Sarkozic wear the crown, then a Johannian, then a Pertinaxi once more. I watched our empire triumph over Malin, over Krug, over all the forces of barbarism and evil. Does all that proud history mean nothing, now, because a young man cannot forgive a slap across his cheek?

 

Vain is the glory of Antonius, who burnt his own cities, warred with his own people, and destroyed his own Empire. Vain is the glory of men who war against other men. For history goes in cycles, dear Godric, and if you wish to claim Antonius’s place, then you will meet his end – vanishing into quiet ignominy. Your people will not remember you – just as mankind will not remember Antonius. So though it is not my place to entreat with you, I must ask, what do you hope to achieve?

Yours,

Joseph Bélisaire Nicéphore”

[Narthok 10416]

To Mr Nicephore,

 

My people, the Nordish folk are those who bear the blood of the old hill tribes and the Hansetian knights in their veins. Though we me now dwell many Renatian and Waldenian folk who wished to flee the endless wars of the southern lands. But there is only so far one can run before one must act. We have always lived as we do. Living a life of action and honour rather than one of slavery on our knees. Even when vassalized no Ruric has ever bent the knee. There are those who say the unexamined life is not worth living. And to some degree I concur. But in my eyes, and the eyes of my forebears the dishonourable life is not worth living. Twice now those whom I am obligated by oath to protect and avenge have been abused by the barbarians of Haense. A realm of word twisters and lawyers. Were I to continue to appease and tolerate their abuses no doubt they would increase in audacity. Spurred on by the protection of Empire. Courage only in herd so to speak. 

 

To that end surgery must be tended to. The cancer of Haense must be addressed. Should it come to war then it comes to war. But were we to turn the other cheek, war would have occurred sooner or later. I do not seek bloodshed, despite my deep revulsion and Hatred for Haense. Oath breakers and cowards all I have offered them a peaceful way out. They can pay the weregild to make amends for the wounds they caused, the lives they took. All of this against the law, enacted on the lands of Rubern. Or they can refuse and shall be treated to the same treatment we gave them in the war of two Emperors.

 

Prayers,

Godric,

[HurferDurfer1 2978]

“Rurics with watery veins.”

[monkeypoacher 8055]

5 minutes ago, Narthok said:

To Mr Nicephore,

 

My people, the Nordish folk are those who bear the blood of the old hill tribes and the Hansetian knights in their veins. Though we me now dwell many Renatian and Waldenian folk who wished to flee the endless wars of the southern lands. But there is only so far one can run before one must act. We have always lived as we do. Living a life of action and honour rather than one of slavery on our knees. Even when vassalized no Ruric has ever bent the knee. There are those who say the unexamined life is not worth living. And to some degree I concur. But in my eyes, and the eyes of my forebears the dishonourable life is not worth living. Twice now those whom I am obligated by oath to protect and avenge have been abused by the barbarians of Haense. A realm of word twisters and lawyers. Were I to continue to appease and tolerate their abuses no doubt they would increase in audacity. Spurred on by the protection of Empire. Courage only in herd so to speak. 

 

To that end surgery must be tended to. The cancer of Haense must be addressed. Should it come to war then it comes to war. But were we to turn the other cheek, war would have occurred sooner or later. I do not seek bloodshed, despite my deep revulsion and Hatred for Haense. Oath breakers and cowards all I have offered them a peaceful way out. They can pay the weregild to make amends for the wounds they caused, the lives they took. All of this against the law, enacted on the lands of Rubern. Or they can refuse and shall be treated to the same treatment we gave them in the war of two Emperors.

 

Prayers,

Godric,

 

“To Godric,

 

What I think, as I read your letter, is that I am reading the words of a man so frenzied with anger that he cannot maintain a metaphor. I pray that you come treat with our Emperor before you start a war based solely on your misconceptions.

 

Yours,

J.B. Nicéphore”

[chaosgamer_ 764]

In the palace of Rubern, Rhegal Black-Barclay is tied to an anvil in a cell. He who was present in yesterday’s event has been chained by the men of Godric. 

 

”I want to break free..”

 

[rukio 8924]

8 hours ago, rotund_man said:

“To the blind sot Godric,

Spare the rod, it seems, and you spoil the child. The child that had not yet grown a chest hair before the signing of the Treaty of Reza, who grew up in a peaceful mankind. The child who could not have lifted a shield in defense of his country ere the madness subsided and the Johannian pretender gave up the ghost. Who are you to claim the laurels of your “folk?” What “folk” do you refer to? Is it the folk that lived in a pile of rubble outside Fort Loches, who hooted indignities from their mudhuts while real men, Canonist men, bled their life’s blood for an inconclusive war?

 

I was born in Auvergne. I harvested wheat in the field that once was Dunharrow, and with my own two hands I carried rocks away from Fort Loches. I planted tulips on the field that once lay fallow in the shadow of a vain monument to a meaningless conflict. I witnessed the victorious Renatians pass from the world, and I saw babies born who knew only peace. I watched a Sarkozic wear the crown, then a Johannian, then a Pertinaxi once more. I watched our empire triumph over Malin, over Krug, over all the forces of barbarism and evil. Does all that proud history mean nothing, now, because a young man cannot forgive a slap across his cheek?

 

Vain is the glory of Antonius, who burnt his own cities, warred with his own people, and destroyed his own Empire. Vain is the glory of men who war against other men. For history goes in cycles, dear Godric, and if you wish to claim Antonius’s place, then you will meet his end – vanishing into quiet ignominy. Your people will not remember you – just as mankind will not remember Antonius. So though it is not my place to entreat with you, I must ask, what do you hope to achieve?

Yours,

J.B. Nicéphore”

 

8 hours ago, Narthok said:

To Mr Nicephore,

 

My people, the Nordish folk are those who bear the blood of the old hill tribes and the Hansetian knights in their veins. Though we me now dwell many Renatian and Waldenian folk who wished to flee the endless wars of the southern lands. But there is only so far one can run before one must act. We have always lived as we do. Living a life of action and honour rather than one of slavery on our knees. Even when vassalized no Ruric has ever bent the knee. There are those who say the unexamined life is not worth living. And to some degree I concur. But in my eyes, and the eyes of my forebears the dishonourable life is not worth living. Twice now those whom I am obligated by oath to protect and avenge have been abused by the barbarians of Haense. A realm of word twisters and lawyers. Were I to continue to appease and tolerate their abuses no doubt they would increase in audacity. Spurred on by the protection of Empire. Courage only in herd so to speak. 

 

To that end surgery must be tended to. The cancer of Haense must be addressed. Should it come to war then it comes to war. But were we to turn the other cheek, war would have occurred sooner or later. I do not seek bloodshed, despite my deep revulsion and Hatred for Haense. Oath breakers and cowards all I have offered them a peaceful way out. They can pay the weregild to make amends for the wounds they caused, the lives they took. All of this against the law, enacted on the lands of Rubern. Or they can refuse and shall be treated to the same treatment we gave them in the war of two Emperors.

 

Prayers,

Godric,

“Dunharrow was a lovely town. Plenty of Norlandic women and men died in the war spoken of. Two of our own stood in the last charge, defending against those who tried to claim Helena as their own. I killed many a man with my own sword. It hangs on the mantel of my fireplace to this day, a reminder of what I hope to never HAVE to experience again. I do not give a **** about where someone were born or that some children have witnessed strained peace. If people wish to forget what we as a people suffered and endured in the name of others, for a city which now tries to spit upon us like common dogs, then I will raise my sword once more in defense of my people and those I love. Enough people have been killed by the Haensian dogs... the memory of Edvard, who saw fit to deem me a Valkyrie. For the memory of Lyonel, who died before his time, unable to cope with the trauma of war. For my child and family. I grow ill at the thought of what Haense has done time and time again with no repercussions, what they will continue to do. There is only so much bloodshed we should be forced to tolerate before we say ‘Enough is enough’. You’re too merciful, but perhaps that is your youth, your father would have gone to war by now.” Ingrid would rant this at Godric for some god awful, unknown reason, as though he were Edvard and existed to be bitched at by her. Slamming her fist at the end, she storms out in a huff. Ingrid would return home, tending to her family’s needs, but also sharpening her sword, repairing her old armor.

 

 

((As if a wc would matter  ?

[1_Language_1 1671]

 

 

 

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12 hours ago, rotund_man said:

 

“To Godric,

 

What I think, as I read your letter, is that I am reading the words of a man so frenzied with anger that he cannot maintain a metaphor. I pray that you come treat with our Emperor before you start a war based solely on your misconceptions.

 

Yours,

J.B. Nicéphore”

 

Elizaveta Nicéphore, nee Sarkozic, grins at her son’s eloquence. Something he definitely got from his father.