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[!] An old, pious Templar of ages past and former Grand Inquisitor receives a copy of the missive while walking through the streets of Numenost. As his glassy eyes scan over its contents his formerly expressionless countenance becomes wrought with concern by each passing moment. If not for the fires of the Archangel manifest in his soul, he might feel fear. Once he finished the missive, a glint of anger comes over Ser Philip's face, prompting him to yell.

 

"The people of Canondom, who I protected under several Kings and served at the behest of numerous pontiffs, are being deceived. My old apprentice, Ailred, will not even return my letters; Callahan does not speak up, despite knowing better. They will get precisely what they deserve if they do not turn back to GOD and heed his word."

 

Philip then signs the Lorraine over himself. "GOD be with us."

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St. Raguel, the Aengul of Justice, clenches the missive. "Okay," is all he says, and moves on. 

 

If he was as the descendants had now called him, then know that he had already won.

 

Perhaps, he was an evil entity who had taken the visage of an aengul.

 

Or he was a dangerous force that had taken reigns of the heavens. 

 

The Deceiver himself, even. 

 

And if he was not what was claimed of him to be, this would be the madness of an ailed man. 

 

This is justice. 

 

Justice. . .

 


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Ser Julian shook his head. "Brave, and foolish. How long will you last, I wonder. ."

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"Where was this Aengul when his brother was slain in battle against the Arch-Draakar? Why was he not present in the Golden Court?" 


Cerrick of Khamees wondered as he put away his old armor, burnt and scarred from many battles. He pondered where any of them were, much less of justice.


"Why would he bless the hordes that saw the God-Eater win? Perhaps he is naught, but the Deceiver himself."

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41 minutes ago, Werew0lf said:

 

  Reveal hidden contents

 

Spoiler
We shall see

Find-Out-IRP.gif.1c8271b610e14360b233a413cec25d4e.gif

 

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Arthur appeared in the middle of the desert after being certifiably 'vaporized' by RAGUEL. He dusted sand off of his body, and turned around to see the miles of hot desert - when he was just standing in the White/Blackspire church. "He spared me. ." he whispered to himself in horror and beauty.

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“Iblees has been gone for millennia now but it seems once more he returns as he did in the days of yore, in an image of beauty. But even he cannot hide his true nature. His nature is that of destruction, destruction of the Creator’s divine vision- we have already seen this nature at work within Aaun, where his hellfires burned the city of Whitespire and thousands of innocents within it.” Mark clutched his fist, “He is no aengul. He is the great pretender, the great deceiver. He is Iblees returned himself, there is no other possibility then that.”

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Spoiler
2 hours ago, Boknice275 said:

They will get precisely what they deserve if they do not turn back to GOD and heed his word."

 

 

Midnight? Who said anything about Midnight? Midnight was when they put is in cages for a regency. A Lucienist and a Ruthern step into a nightmare a Carrion, a Barrow, don't miss him, Ailred. They missed, that was the nightmare. They run out and find a Lur, that was a nightmare, but not this time. Not Krug, not this time, not a Lur, if only they knew then. Nightmare was bearing with those insufferable 'all-fathers', nightmare was every drop of guano, every glint of those obscene rings, it was one way to bleach white those wretched, wretched garments. Nightmare? What nightmare? And I stepped into that place of a dream behind him, who remained in the protection of an obscure seminary after he had been declared an enemy of the Enemy for his writings in defense of the Church's autonomy, and I bring him word of this restoration. Midnight? It's the Dawn I've been waiting for. For even the semblance of a smile on that wizened old face as the first rays of the day shine through that resplendent stained glass, where Everard-in-Persecution sprawled out waiting, hope from on the horizon, against all odds, triumphant over that crisp and nigh eternal winter twilight, his face illuminated with the dappled Light of the new world. 

 

Winter, spoke a Lucienist. They've been goyed. And I looked on him who heard me, bitter loving, but loyal as a Vander, sharing in the weight of every gut-wrenching concession, all possible through the heart-pierced Flame, so that Justice was the Lord's, and revenge His also. 

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2 minutes ago, Fleeperpriest said:
  Reveal hidden contents

 

 

Midnight? Who said anything about Midnight? Midnight was when they put is in cages for a regency. A Lucienist and a Ruthern step into a nightmare a Carrion, a Barrow, don't miss him, Ailred. They missed, that was the nightmare. They run out and find a Lur, that was a nightmare, but not this time. Not Krug, not this time, not a Lur, if only they knew then. Nightmare was bearing with those insufferable 'all-fathers', nightmare was every drop of guano, every glint of those obscene rings, it was one way to bleach white those wretched, wretched garments. Nightmare? What nightmare? And I stepped into that place of a dream behind him, who remained in the protection of an obscure seminary after he had been declared an enemy of the Enemy for his writings in defense of the Church's autonomy, and I bring him word of this restoration. Midnight? It's the Dawn I've been waiting for. For even the semblance of a smile on that wizened old face as the first rays of the day shine through that resplendent stained glass, where Everard-in-Persecution sprawled out waiting, hope from on the horizon, against all odds, triumphant over that crisp and nigh eternal winter twilight, his face illuminated with the dappled Light of the new world. 

 

Winter, spoke a Lucienist. They've been goyed. And I looked on him who heard me, bitter loving, but loyal as a Vander, sharing in the weight of every gut-wrenching concession, all possible through the heart-pierced Flame, so that Justice was the Lord's, and revenge His also. 

 

 

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Sigmar falls asleep reading the obvious lurinite propaganda, such it was how he had been bored by it!

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"The OWYNSSIAH has come, and he will COME AGAIN. The wyrms shall fall, step by step, as each den of iniquity us put to the flame. Purity shall come, with silver vessel and blessed waters, and the age of purity shall reign. The worms shall be brought low, and all goodness shall be freed from the clutches of the deceiver. 

 

GLORY GLORY GLORY, GREAT FLAME OF THE OWYNSSIAH, RAISE US ON SMOKE TO THE FOOT OF THE THRONE PF LIGHT!" 

 

Mechpriestess Gamma trusted the plan, after all, it is divine cogwork, and the auspice itself states that we must do nothing for GOD will sort it out. Yet. Got has bidden us to diligence, else progress will not come. 

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"GOTT BE PRASIED!" -+- "every individual ought to rely on the trust in the Lord given to them by the Most High!" Applauding in excitement and glee, Lothair gives his son a ruffle of the hair, and begins teaching him how to read using the very same document. "So rare that 'unified' spirit ever makes decisions in support of all good humans. GOTT ALONE IS OUR PROTECTOR!!!!!!!"

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