Jump to content

Recommended Posts

A lone librarian stared at the missive in her hand, the words lit up by flickering candlelight. Old memories flickered through her mind's eye: the screaming citizenry of Portoregne, slaughtered by remorseless Ferrymen; horror stories of kidnappings and maiming committed against her friends, her people, her Royal Majesty; the air of terror that loomed over the Marchlands and beyond. The missive crinkled under her tightened fist.

 

"You shall fight for pride," she murmured, "and you shall die for pride. So be it. So will I." 

 

Asya Carmesía got up from her chair, and set the crumpled paper down on her desk. She marched to her armoire and threw open the doors, revealing her armors, her sword, and her bow.

 

"I will help see this war reach its end. I will put your brigands to the sword. I will see Winburgh burn."

Link to post
Share on other sites

Sofiele ontop of her horse back looked upon the long line of 20 men columns rising and lowering over the mountains towards windburgh. She then saw the fortifications over the hills towards the hills on Adria. The Paladin overlooked the battle from up high with her scope. Her eye filled with a bit of sorrow.

 

”war brings chaos, pain and death. My lord commanded us to keep order- yet descendants create madness and chaos themselves.”

 

The elf returned her scope to the horse satchel as she leaned foward.

 

”even in their missives. They lie…”

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Why did they think peace was an option?" wondered the Priest Belisarios, preparing his armor for the coming battle.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Sir Milonir of Whitehall prepares for battle!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Spoiler

"PLEASE MERCY UPON US MIO, THIS IS OUR PEACE, BRO ‼️

MAN PLEASE SPARE US FROM THIS DESTRUCTION HAVE SOME MERCY MIO2 REMEMBER THE OLD DAYS? 😭

LISTEN TO YOUR HEART MIO, I YIELD! UNC, UNC, UNC, UNCLE! PLEASE I YIELD I CAN BEAR IT NO MORE DO NOT EXTERMINATE US 🥴"

SAYS MILENKO HOREN-BARBANOV, AZOR AHAI PRINCE THAT WAS PROMISED TARGARYEN OF THE ANDALS AND ESSOS, LORD OF THE CRAFT.

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Hali smiled the suns smile. “Could not have stated the situation better myself. Are those who stood alongside the butchers, lending hand as necessary while muttering hasty objections to be seen as innocent? They call us warmongers and yet we offer real mercy to those with the humility to accept it.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

A Musin who was exceedingly tired of war pinched the bridge of their nose. "Well, suppose it's time to stock up on healing supplies again.. So much needless pain.." They murmured. Picking up their alchemist's shears and heading off.

Link to post
Share on other sites

A mali'aheral in Cormath would look to the poster with a soft sigh. "Forced relocation isn't peace by a long run. This is why I don't like going to most Valar nations... Except one, of course. So many ghosts and unneeded bloodshed...." 

 

And with that, she'd hop back into the ocean. Back to spear-fishing as usual.

Edited by Nimbus_Strike
Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×
×
  • Create New...