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A Letter to Orenians


Hanrahan
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To all Orenians of Stout Heart, and Pious Virtue,

 

I pen this open letter to you to inform you, and to beseech you. The events of the last month have been tumultuous and dark beyond belief. The Emperor, Philip III has shown his hand, and revealed himself to be a kinslayer, regicide, and fratricide. He, using the D'Azor family, and Savoyard Assassins and bandits, slew many of the Imperial family in a reckless and selfish bid for power.

 

Not satisfied with such inconceivable villainy, the Emperor then orchestrated a plot by which to see the MURDER of the Pontiff, and his replacement with an Anti-Pontiff, citing schismatic doctrines. This man who claimed the 'Mandate of Heaven' would launch the Empire into another dark age of not just civil war - but holy war, in the fruitless throes of heresy and degeneracy.

 

This letter is short, but it lays out the deeds.

 

Orenians - Countrymen - I have served since the days of Peter III. Yet this was the action that chased me from my country, and my home. Leave the Empire. Desert the army. Fight agaisnt those who remain. They must not continue, nor shall they not, for the revenge they have summoned upon themselves shall strike in Heaven, and on Earth.

 

Godspeed, my wayward countrymen.

 

John Napier.

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"What? The famous family of Napier? The ones who commit heresy and has romances with ORCS?" 

 

A Savoyard guardswoman would exclaim in excitement with a grin while she let loose out a thunderous laugh throughout the palace.

 

 

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To John Napier,

 

"Word of your family's orcish miscegenation, its blasphemous misconduct, its promulgation of heresy and libertine ideals has spread from Karosgrad to Yong Ping. You are an eternal clerk, a bureaucrat - a scullion fattened on the grease from the frying pan of Empire. I wish you the best of luck navigating a world which does not take to your low conduct with a flustered look askance; where unfortunate souls are tied up on trees and burned for heresy, hanged for sedition, and castrated for lechery. Your pleas to your few dozen fellow orgiasts and epicures are the subject of ribald comedy. Your name is a byword for a strumpet's trick in Mane's Grotto. I pray for your safe conduct to Urguan, and for your immortal soul."

Yours in camaradery,

Aristide Nicéphore

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Fight agaisnt those who remain.

 

Cato Perea ponders the words of Johann von Napier, and elects to not fight agaisnt those who remain.

 

After all, he declared, "One God, One Emperor, One Empress."

 

 

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22 minutes ago, monkeypoacher said:

"To John Napier,

 

Word of your family's orcish miscegenation, its blasphemous misconduct, its promulgation of heresy and libertine ideals has spread from Karosgrad to Yong Ping. You are an eternal clerk, a bureaucrat - a scullion fattened on the grease from the frying pan of Empire. I wish you the best of luck navigating a world which does not take to your conduct with a look askance; where unfortunate souls are tied up on trees and burned for heresy, hanged for sedition, and castrated for lechery. Your pleas to your few dozen fellow orgiasts and epicures are the subject of ribald comedy. Your name is a byword for a nightwalker's trick in Mane's Grotto. I pray for your safety, and for your immortal soul."

Aristide Nicéphore

"Who are you?"

 

Sir Charles Galbraith remarked, unfamiliar with Aristide. "I suppose that he must be a savoyard, because I have never seen him in Oren before."

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Ostromir Carrion, a creature so much more than a man, reaches the notice in its lair. So it took the paper and set either hollow eye upon the penning of his old mentor, and later adversary, before rasping "Oh, how you cling to safety. The days of ******* orcs, are coming to an end.".

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