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THE FOLLY OF PHILIP III


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Kronk 'The Grand' Stormheart would slam his axe into the desk of his office. "LET ET BEH KNOHWN TAT WEH SHALL SLAUGHTAH EVEREH ORENIAN TAT GETS EN OUR WAY JUST LOIKEH WEH HAVE BEFOREH, NARVAK OZ URGUAN!" The Grand Marshal shouted out for all of Urguan to hear.

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As Sionnach made her way back north once again, a strange dwarven song hung in the air around the Adunic fighters, the words 'buttercup' hanging in the icy air...

 

 

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great battle lads, cant wait for the next one

 

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An aged Waldenian man cusses up a storm on his families ship! He lost his bets about the war...

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Thulmyr would clean the blood off of his axe and smile, looking forward to more battles to come.

 

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Hu-din ties his shoe and spots this missive stuck to the bottom of it. The orc picks up the paper, smiling as he sees the krugmar banner and recycles the missive. 

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Eirika Ireheart holds up the missive, waving it about Urguan’s bustling tavern “Yeh hear taht lads! Drinks on meh!”

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"Who shall bet on in this?" Peralien asks to the skies.

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Casimira, who had been relegated to keeping an eye on the situation from afar, gave a singular nod of approval. "All according to plan!" She remarked, before then pointing at one of the beautifully painted miniatures on the table in front of her. "What does this one with the horns do?"

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The now old, retired-King sighed from his cabin in the cold mountains as he returned, taking his dented and blood-splatted armor off piece by piece, cursing as his golem legs withered in and out from the many hits they received.


Certainleh ah longbeard now, nae doubt about et…” He’d think to himself, as he pulled his hair free and braided his very gray beard once more. He’d relive the memories of the battlefield as he went to pour himself a drink, remembering the smiles and cheers of joy once victory had been achieved once again.

 

Once his drink had been had, he’d say to himself again as he sat slowly, a pained expression covering his face as he sat. 
 

Teh plan es comin’ teh fruition… o’I promised Urguan o’I wouldn’t leave et in worse shape t’en et was when o’I found et, an’ o’I’m happy we’ve managed teh accomplish such.” He’d offer a look over to his collection of photographs, smiling when he eyed the final one. 

 

Soon meh ol’ friend… soon o’I can finalleh rest, an’ see yeh once ag’in…” He’d whisper, as he reclined, going to take a lovely rest.

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Theroden raises a tankard to victory after the battle  “The cowardly Horenites  have learned a costly lesson. This is far from over. Back to Lower Petra we go.”

Edited by Crymson
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