THE WINBURGH PROCLAMATION

CharlestheDwarf · February 2

Thurgrim Silverbraid loosed a sigh from deep within his chest, the hidden knotwork of stress that had built within finally beginning to fade as his gaze would drift across the missive. Low candle-light flickered across the dwarfs tired visage as he sat in his home, shadows building within the ever so faintly forming lines upon his face. He'd looked older - felt older than he really was. The burning fury he once held against the Veletzian and Orcish menace that was their opposition had long since been smothered, and instead replaced with a sense of trepidatious guilt over the destruction that had been wrought upon both sides.

"... It is done, Garedyn,"

He lowly murmured, hands shakily folding the parchment and tossing it to the nearby bedside.

"Ten long years, an' th' fighting 's finally over. Ah only wish y'could've been here t'see it."

His lips thinned, an expression that balanced itself something between sheer exhaustion and relief - And yet... something else? His attention fell to the tome upon the desk before him, fresh brush strokes upon it still wet with ink. At the very bottom of the page sat a sigil he'd not seen outside of his own crafts in a long time. A closed tome backed by an eight-pointed, gilded star. "An' yet... Ah'm not done. We are not done. A shadow has fallen across th' land in th' wake of this war - Evil stirs within th' corners of our world, thinking itself to be forgotten, an' it will not rest 'lest we take action."

"To this, our grim duty. Our charge and our destiny."

Edited February 2 by CharlestheDwarf

MunaZaldrizoti · February 2

Though her memories still returned slowly and in small number, what the middle-aged Ioanna of Ba'as could recall left her feeling a generational weight lifted from her shoulders at last. As a girl, she had chased down the brigands of Adria atop the back of a great panda, determined that one day she might vanquish her father's foes on the field of battle.

So many decades later, unbeknownst to most others, she finally had. A mere tavernkeep and steward, fulfilling her lifelong promise to a King and country.

DrunkPapaBear · February 2

The redskinned uruk smiled the tusked smile as he saw the missive.

"Hosh. Second wagh done, on with the next."

PecenyRohlik · February 2

"Peace. At last." Witold Jazlowiecki cheered to himself. "Now, to mark it all down," he added, set to transcribe the events of the war to paper.

GMRO · February 2

Ser Rickard huffed. “It’s over for now, but the old enemy always returns.” The Knight glanced at his sword wondering how many more fights he had left in him against the same ilk again and again.

Lirinya · February 2

"Look at that, peace" a raven haired woman spoke to her companion, @Caedis. "The children can finally begin to explore the realms without fear of war."

Meanwhile....

Elianos couldn't wait to venture to Hyspia to meet his friend, @teeylin

garentoft · February 2

Peace! Peace! Peace! The word repeated in his mind like a taunting chant. Peace! Peace! Peace! Shakily, he moved to sit before the mirror within in his confines of the Palatio Arancione. His face had gotten rougher, he thought. He couldn't quite tell if it was just age, or if the war had contributed to it. The bags under his eyes were definitely the fault of the war, and so were the scars across his body.

On the streets, people were celebrating the beginning of peace once more, and here he was, tears trickling down his cheeks. "The Cycle..." He murmured quietly to himself, "The Cycle has not been broken ..." The Light had endured for now, but they had not extinguished the Darkness from the World, and wherever Shadows remain, Darkness would still linger.

Enrico Amadeus would keep his sword sharpened, the Cycle was not broken. The Cycle fostered by the Aster Revolution, humanity would wage war on itself, over and over again. For now, however, he ought to enjoy the momentary lapse in warfare, right? His nieces and nephews would no longer be endangered. Maybe, he would even have his own children.

There is hope, something may still bloom.

Olox_ · February 2

Charles Alstion smiled at the signed peace before his eyes shifted to the sunny sky above "And yet you prevailed in death" The Lord of Alba said in a whisper as he thought of those who fell a decade ago in Whitespire, defending peace. They have been avenged. Finally, the boy could look to the future with peace of mind.

Meanwhile in the Seven Skies the Prince of Merryweather, Heinrich II Lothar, smiled at his royal nephew, Edmund II. They have both been slayed at the beginning of this conflict "They thought that they can be kings, how wrong they have been my boy..." He said as he patted the boy's shoulder with a slow shake of his head @Caranthir_

ImmortalShadowZ · February 2

Godric ap Easworth would begin to count the bloody crowns that he had picked up over the period of the war, as he glanced at the names on the decree matching them to their respective crown. "Hrm, Gaspard. It seems we got duplicate forged crowns." He would call to the Cyclops, whilst he was cooking stew.

UnusualBrit · February 2

“Mayhaps they’ll finally leave their gates open.” Narvi grumbled.

thesmellypocket · February 2

Offa was alone in the monastery at Petra when he heard the church bells ring out in riotous jubilation, a fanfare erupting such as he had never hitherto heard. Instantly, he knew it could mean only one thing.

It would be impossible to describe what joy filled the heart of Offa. He had prayed in the fervour of his heart, day and night, for weeks in search of precisely this outcome. So many contrite tears, heartfelt prayers, tired hours had been poured out before his God. And God had done the right: the authors of evil had been punished, the right side had won, and the people of Adria had been spared destruction. Offa, in his ecstasy, gathered together the whole of creation in his heart and brought it before the Lord, offering a hymn of thanksgiving:

1 O all ye Works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord :