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Treaty of Providence, 1824


KosherZombie
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Claude Élisabeth shares apple juice with her newly returned family in celebration, donning inviolable juvility.

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Lukas Castile enjoys his Castile Cognac in his vacation home in South Sedan as he reunites with his long lost de Joannes friends after the war.

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James Madron smiled lightly with relief, but though it quickly returned to his stern look. “We cannot rest easy. Another war is but upon us.”

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The Solicitor-General Sir Charles Galbraith would smile as he heard the news.

 

"This Imperial Victory in the Tenth Nordling War belongs to the Orenian people, who are the true heroes of Our Nation and, especially, to our Imperial Soldiers, who daily risk their lives in order to keep us safe and uphold the Emperor's peace.

 

As for the Pagans of Norland, I would not be surprised if they end up selling their 'holy' tree in order to get enough money to pay for the war compensations thst they are going to give to Our Imperial Government. After all, they already sold their honor when they started a war with false and pre-fabricated arguments without any basis, so it would not be a surprise.

 

Let us hope that the Nordlings remember what happens when they march South.

 

God save the Emperor John VIII, Our August Monarch and Saviour, Long may he Reign!"

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The Veteran mused, observing the golden lettering of the missive while he lightly passed his fingers through the rigid surface. "Huh.", he let out, "I suppose this ink is truly made from mina."

 

The Veteran would jut his head backwards, giving a tired sigh as he let his legs cross and rest, "At least the Holy See is safe. We did our peaces, fought their wars and did our part. Oreners just can't go a few days without a good backstab."

 

He'd close his eyes momentarily, lifting the paper and shaking it around, "Anyone want to scrape off the letters on this paper, melt them into some proper mina? I'd like to get myself a drink."

 

@KindOfToast @chacmul @Gambit @mosscowi

Edited by Nouveau-Chapeau
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9 minutes ago, Nouveau-Chapeau said:

The Veteran mused, observing the golden lettering of the missive while he lightly passed his fingers through the rigid surface. "Huh.", he let out, "I suppose this ink is truly made from mina."

 

The Veteran would jut his head backwards, giving a tired sigh as he let his legs cross and rest, "At least the Holy See is safe. We did our peaces, fought their wars and did our part. Oreners just can't go a few days without a good backstab."

 

He'd close his eyes momentarily, lifting the paper and shaking it around, "Anyone want to scrape off the letters on this paper, melt them into some proper mina? I'd like to get myself a drink."

 

@KindOfToast @chacmul @Gambit @mosscowi

Moskau sat in his respective chair in the room.  His hands concealed his face, hiding it for a few moments as his drowsiness ate him from the inside out.  With a sudden jerk, he'd wake up.  The dirty hands of the Ro-Agenta pushed back his hair, so he could see and remember what was being talked about.  He read over the missive briefly, hearing the Veteran's words.

"If ink is so costly we should raid one of their wagons full of it..  Lads don't guard their convoys now do they?"  He'd remark with a hint of a chuckle in his tone.  His emotion would snap, his demeanor would change.  His overall tone would become serious yet drowsily.  "We now must fight the Oreners face to face.  No longer are they distracted by the pagans, their full attention will be diverted to us.  We're no longer in their peripheral vision.  We are the center focus.  So I ask you all, shall we poke out their eyes?"

The Tactician's heart would begin to grow uneasy.  The battle-hardened hands of the mentally disrupted begun to shake, to which he promptly hid them behind his back.  A plan so devious formed into his head, a plan of murder, a plan of brutality.. It would be his Magnum Opus.  A plan never to come, A plan to create his street that could never be built.  A plan to make his younger brother proud.

The clock is with us.
Viva Mercatore.

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3 hours ago, edelos said:

Pretty Princess Helen celebrated by popping open a bottle of Pruvian Port with her best friend Maisie, and her best friend's other best friend (and, incidentally, her friend) Natalia.

Maisie d'Arkent takes out her special edition social season of 1810 wine glasses to celebrate!

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The aging court mage cackled at her husband Erik's words. @grnappa After a moment of contemplation, she spoke: "Knowing them, it most likely will only take ten to fifteen years to break more or less all of those terms we had agreed upon. Regardless, I must excuse myself to paint our good Emperor beating the Nordling king's arse."

Spoiler

ill add it l8r

 

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Leopoldine burst into Thomas Andrew's office, appearing terribly confused. "W... why is there an orchestra in the living room?" @Fishy

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Reserved 

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8 hours ago, Fie said:

Leopoldine burst into Thomas Andrew's office, appearing terribly confused. "W... why is there an orchestra in the living room?" @Fishy

image_32119dd3.jpeg?region=55,42,530,265

Thomas Andrew casts a sidelong glance to Leopoldine as she burst into his office, interrupting his opera. @Fie

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