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A FALSE THRONE BURNS


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[A hastily printed pamphlet begins to find its way to posting-boards of the Human Realms.]

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A FALSE THRONE BURNS

 

I had only ridden to the capital in the Interests of Tending my shop on this day. Instead I found myself in the midst of the most vicious Warfare, fearsome Adrians cornering my countrymen in our own capital Square. It was my letters which declared the Duke the Ecclesial Anathema as per the Treacherous decree of the High pontiff only some months past, now. If Only one could have imagined the Righteous nature of the man he wrote of. Blessedly, fate found me soon facing my own trial for printing such LIES.
 

It was by the mercy of the Duke himself which granted me my life; for at first he wished for my head, as any man faced with the son of the enemy would. Then, however, I confessed to him my innermost thought: that the Pontiff broke his word when he called for His Grace’s blood, and that it was Sin to seek blood in a House of God. Our sin is cowardice, and I am so blessed with Adrian mercy that I may now see the truth. Through the smoke of Karosgrad and the clanging of the soldiers’ steel; as I quivered in my boots, I was stunned by the strength and composure of the very raiders besieging my beloved homeland.

 

I am truly sorry for my betrayal of faith. I can only pray for grace and forgiveness, and that my life will not be for naught. 

 

His Lordship, Fabian Otto Kortrevich

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(Somewhere, a Lordling with a head injury harbors a number of regrets.)

 

Spoiler

Special thanks to Adrian folks for some interesting capture RP. All writings are in-character and supported by IRP choices.

 

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"Again, Adrians can niet speak with their own words with their own mouths." Viktor felt no great affection for the Kortrevich, but he thought less for their underhanded foes forcing him to write drivel at sword-point.

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Let me guess, his thoughts were muddled as the result of a concussion?” A woman queries from the Morrivi; as she strode down the hallways of the Courtiers’ apartments in search of a safe, quiet place to nap.

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For once, being a slow reader was a gift. As Alasdair pored over his friend's publication, he began to pick apart the intricacies of the Kortrevich's words.

 

He smiled.

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The mother of the forsaken journalist pores over the document with tears in her eyes. "I know this is not you, my boy. Come home, come home," she wept.

 

A harrowing moment later, Viorica paused to read between the lines... and she withdrew a sigh of relief.

 

Meanwhile, a young Amaya Colborn circles each of the letters on the Prince Aleksandr's copy of the document. "Look, look - you are not reading it properly!"

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"How could the Fidei Defensor allow this?!" pondered the bewildered Chieftain of Katzak

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Aleksandr Otto frowned as he read the letter, the Prince growing frustrated.

Yet, frustration only came due to the extensive amount of time it took the boy to understand the letter thanks to the aid of
Amaya Colborn.
Then, he smiled.

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The crown princess wondered what the capital letter meant

 

”it was….dookie or lies?”

 

then she realized 

 

“OHHHH”

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