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BSK INCIDENT REPORT #12: OPERATION DRAGONSLAYER


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Ser Jose Fuentes cheered as the threat was routed! He casually cleaned off his sword. "Pigs to the slaughter."

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Asbjorn smiles, knowing he has defended his honor and nation. 

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Princess Verónica Weiss cheered with pride! "KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM! VIVA HYSPIA! VA VE MAAN!"

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Queen Amaya of Venzia brandished her pink cape, returning to Valdev’s open gates with her sword sheathed.

 

“I am home. Summon the courtiers — we will celebrate this victory.”

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“Those Stassion idiots really thought… but at least they got rid of that boy king for the good of humanity.” Renilde Helena really was enjoying her retirement, watching on and vicariously living through Catherine I’s success. 

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In the Chamber of Fire underneath Hohkmat, Faeryel offloads all of her plundered armor and weapons.

 

"Kaggath? Is that what this sort of thing is called?"

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Andria smiles,  "Iconic"

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"Its a shame the boy king of Aaun placed his trust in Veletz and Stassion, everybody knew this would happen at some point." said Ser Andrik.

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Aimo spat on the corpse of the prince he felled after the dust settled. "What ye get for wanting the queen's head. Ye get what ye deserve ye faithless trash." He followed up his words with a kick to the body's side.

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"KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM!!" Anatoliy Ilya Godunov yelled in pride, raising a glass in celebration!

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A 17-year old son of Lyon experienced combat for the first time this day, felling six enemies. He hesitated felling his first enemy- then remembered why he was there. Stassion and its ilk, descendants of Frederick the Kinslayer- had been wanting for war against Balian for years now. He swung his blade now as it cut open the throat of the Stassion retainer, his blood spraying across the cobbled road of Whitespire. He scoffed- and returned to battle, killing five more. "Blood for Edmund." He mumbled to himself as he wandered the roads, bodies of both sides littering the streets. "Your Kingdom shall remain free of the tyrannical grip of Stassion, so help me GOD. Rest now, King Edmund." 

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The day of worry had slowly turned into a day of pride and relief; the sons and daughters of Horen, united under their faith in GODAN, upholding the justice in which was rightfully enacted on that day.  Ser Mikhail Valkonen placed his warhammer off to the side, resting it against the wall, and removed his helmet as he looked up to the sky.  There would be more battles to come... but for now, the fighting was over.

 

Mankind would have it's peace.  Through blood or the olive branch.

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Ser Emeric took a moment to wipe his sword clean, taking slow and steady breaths. His helm sat beside him upon a pew, and he spied his reflection in its' newly re-polished steel surface. A scarred face, replete with wrinkles, and burns. Briefly, he frowned. He was old, and he yet lived. The old knight let out a terse breath. He was prepared to spend his eighty-seventh, eighty-eighth and beyond fighting yet.

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