tcs_tonsils_ 2829 Share Posted February 2 1962 "We are those who look eastward." When at last the talking ceased, When red sun over horizon peeked, Then at last with sweat’d brows, This peace duely endowed. Signed behind old blood, Holy light to judge. Quills with blackest ink, Recoiling from the brink. Fire’s ire burns, Driven by the spurned, Yet hope was had today. Prices finally payed. Hark, Peace’s aid, No longer men dismayed. Dawn appears renewed. Hostility at last subdued. Send forth heads to rest, Return to home and bed, For Aevos has it’s peace, Man is finally freed. SIGNED, THE NOBLE, Sir Marius ‘Wordsmith’ Lovetts, Appurtenant to the Chancellor, Baron of Hrenthorne, Poet Laureate of the Petra, Knight of the Petrine Laurel, Protector of the Drakewood, Keeper of Fyreswake, Patriarch of House Lovetts, and Poet of Man. 28 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
tilly 3672 Share Posted February 2 “Man is finally freed.” Sang Renilde in a smoky tenor voice, somber. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crymson 481 Share Posted February 2 “Rest, old friend. The grudge is avenged in blood.” Hali stated solemnly, reflecting on Sigismund and the Adria that never was. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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