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A Refutation of the Hexer ‘Threat’


Milenkhov
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Karl Sigmar smiled, for surely there was no way this could go wrong. 

@Mio

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"The only real Hexer is Grifter." Comments a former Luciensburg peasant.

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Masuo of Yamatai looked upon the document, a small smile forming on his lips. He then went back to sharpening his weaponry, upon other Hexerly duties. 

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Edmond of Sava peered out from the ramparts of Dun an Ein, eye set upon the flowing southern waters of Savoy. "And so Aeldin's encroachment goes not uncontested. Almarian will shall prevail, evidently, and our traditions endure. Certainty brings ruin."

Edited by Quantumatics
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"NUB REEL HEXAHS!" An Olog grumbles, as the town crier screamed the message then ran away.

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Helen recalled her bestfriend's, István of the Hexers, death, feeling melancholic about him. "I stand with the Hexers..." the Paladin remarked from their camp within the Arentania Mountains..

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Anton Draskovic said "Blessed people those hexers are , for sure"

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A savoyardic peasant pipes up with a fist to the air as he reads the missive. "The Hexers preserved my livestock, though much coin they demanded. I hope them fortune upon our shores."
 

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Wojtek of Lvinsk, the young initiate that had recently joined the creed, looks upon the paper with a cautious sigh. 

"Politics are a load of shite." The young boy would remark, before going back to his sword training.

Edited by Jihnyny
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The Bard Erwin Wolfe, would chuckle as he said a line from the Hexer Ballad Some are wary of the Marked, Questioning why it is that they embark. But regardless of their personal ends, They are humanity’s friends." as he strums away on his lute in the streets of Oren after reading

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Margot of Reinmar eyed the company of signatures under the document with a grin that dimpled her cheeks, impressed by the Grandmaster Hexer's efforts.
"Well done, my love,"  the sorceress uttered to herself through a sigh and with a nod of her head - promptly scurrying up the towering steps of the Hexer keep, Dún an Éin, to offer her congratulations and agreeance to the man.

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A glassy-eyed Drudo Pasquina knelt at the foot of an altar to Owyn, with dew in the corners of his eyes, snivelling: "They fuckin' killed him. They killed him…"

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"The Hexers are a group of glorified swordsmen in desperate need of reform." The 'Fenn would mutter as he reads over both missives

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