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Mr. Franz


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"Tsk," Haskir shakes his head, "A damn shame they didn't succeed. I wonder what lizards are pulling the chain of Mr. Franz who definitely-sent-these-men!" He intones, brows aloft.

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Can’t use my photo without permission.

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"It's a shame we've been reduced to such accommodations," said Aubergine to Conrad as he sipped on a glass of stale, warm claret, a thin trail of smoke rising from his cut-rate Mareno™ cigar and filling the room with its pernicious odor. "We would live much more comfortably inside the Emperor's head."

 

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Luciens would read the letter, thinking rather harsh, yet, while reading, be thankful he lived in Savoy, before going back to enjoy the Festival of Saint Adrian, currently being held in Savoy, San Luciano, starting from 4:00 PM Est, with several enjoyable activities for all to enjoy.

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Abarran Ein Sark gazed towards the notice plastered all over the sun-touched streets of Providence as he moved to a secluded area and began reading over the notice still with his helmet and various weapons all jingling like fine ornaments and the light armor allowing him to rest slightly in its embrace.

"And man on horse with the funny hair say that we are incompetent compared to his own, zer idiota izorratua."

Abarran continued to smile to himself recalling when the bloodied assassin on the Providence roads was being carried by he and his brother.  However, during the beginning of the pursuit there was a sudden drop in his expression as he raised his helmet and looked towards the sky.  The words echoing as they ran...An oddity in its own right as they shouted it...

"We come as crows...."

He continued a solitary glare towards the sky, whatever it meant, truly perhaps the nested birds were instead affiliated with the Avian Demon of Incorporeal Dealings to which he nearly was felled by.  The fear alone caused him to recoil as he adjusted remembering the coughing, bleeding, and hobbling fellow as he shook his head.

"Can't be..."

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General Erik shakes his head, "These cowards. Oren shall not allow these assassins to go unpunished!"

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"The Azdrazi are manipulating the Canonist Duke of Adria, Franz Nikolai, to send his assassins without any motive nor association whatsoever, to kill a few perturbed citizens of an empty city." Augustus surely agrees with the Emperor's missive, wholeheartedly.

 

"Agh! They will face the wrath of my Emperor!" He exclaims with triumph, another resident of Providence swelling with Orenian pride over this mass conspiracy!

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"Father, I just murdered my best friend!" The child of Muhammad Hassan panted in front of his father, beads of sweat rolling off his visage. 

 

Muhammad stared in contemplation, eventually coming to a conclusion. "Blame it on the Azdrazi!" He nodded proudly, happy the vile, evil lizard-folk could be used as an excuse for all sin and vices. 

 

On the second day, the young boy rushed towards his father once more, exclaiming aloud. "Father, our nation has no population!"

 

Muhammad stared in contemplation, eventually coming to a conclusion. "Milk the Azdrazi for tourism!" He nodded proudly, happy the vile, evil lizard-folk could be used to garner some activity for his nation. 

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Holy Sir Hieran chuckles along with the other soldiers, having no idea of what's really going on. Though he liked the first line. 

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2 hours ago, Pompadour said:

Victoria Pruvia-Albarosa scowls at her husband from the Seven Skies.

"Wrong Franz," says the other Franz Nikolai.

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2 hours ago, grnappa said:

Count Erik Othaman compiled all the evidence together in a neat pile before storing it away in the 4th Brigade archives. He noted to himself that these men tried to flee their grasp twice, only to all be recaptured. "Vy would think these fools would learn after getting slapped silly so many times, eh?" He'd comment to his Lieutenant @XOCO

"Fools never learn, Captain. That's what makes 'em fools." Lieutenant Moores chuckles in response, tapping a gauntleted finger against his temple.

@grnappa

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Grant Elmere stared at the body of one of the assassins that he had just executed. His sword, stained red with the blood of that ill-fated assassin. He smiled and muttered to himself "Perhaps this man's life will serve as a lesson to those who have ill intentions." 

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The Kovachev youth would grumble to himself, pushing aside that missive to saunter about his father's conurbation flat.

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On 10/3/2021 at 5:33 PM, Nectorist said:

"Wrong Franz," says the other Franz Nikolai.

“Sending assassins was my job. Not yours-” the old woman grumbled, “Oh, oh. Hm. And here’s to thinking you’d taken to something other than drinking cocktails…”

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