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A TRAGEDY IN THREE ACTS


helldiving

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Rorik would look over to his father's bloody old armor as he nodded and muttered a quick prayer. "For my father. For his Legacy" He would go and back to focusing on his work as he painted the sun of Savoy on the back of his father's armor.

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"what a toime Ter come back..." Glod chuckles bitterly. He had spent a year trying to defend people from the monsters of the corrupted lands that wounded Almaris. All for it to turn out that worse monsters resided in Oren.

 

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A recent Orenian turned Savoyard defector would be conflicted

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"Factually one Savoyard can kill atleast eight oreniens so they wont need that many to soundly curb the orenion aggressions." spoke a very learned scholar who knew about these sort of things.

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An aging and estranged diplomat would read the missive, smiling widely at the missive. It seemed that the tides have turned in recent years, and now his charged nation of Savoy joins the fold. "Let us hope that with the aid of the Argent Legion, and so many other brave men and women, help end this war to a swift but favorable solution."

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Borys puts his sword on his shoulder "Why every single battle I fight is against Orenians?" The Margrave would ask himself "Not that I complain..." He'd then snort and march to the Lvinsk barracks

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Laurentina shudders upon hearing that they are to face the savoyard 2-man army on the battlefield!

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Aubergine suffers a final catastrophic heart attack while reading the news on a sailing excursion. His fortune, including his collection of rare vintages, menagerie of fatted fowl, and Sutican pleasure schooner all drift off, without a helmsman, to sea. All that is left behind for his heir Pâte and widow Taffeta is a treasured seersucker suit, swaying forebodingly in the breeze on the clothesline.

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