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KEEN TO CHAT, KEEN TO RUN

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Pancho

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Cresence Sythaerin wanders around the Eternal Library, ensuring the windows are unbroken, doors are locked, and the gates are closed. She'd rather not have to clean blood up from those steps again.

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“The Sillumir prove strong once more” 

 

An Ancient Sillumiran spoke as he wanders into the square, not a drop of blood spilt on this day

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From a tavern in Balian the young Falkner sighed. "Folk who attack heathens and cannonist alike, terrorist.... Maybe one day the Kingdoms of Haense and Balian will realize trouble isn't too far away from them."

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Spoiler

That **** joke is wild bro 💣💣💣💥💥💢💢💢💯💯💯💯 Goes hard lol

Also check out this dope ass song 

 

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Ibar'siol shook his head lightly at the reading of the missive, dissapointment of the humans was hidden by his mask.

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A man clad in armor of black, The Dawnservant, would get his hands on the missive and gives a look of disgust as he read about what the men of Keen and Grense did to a neutral nation. “And now they think those of the Canonist belief sacrifice others in the name of GOD…? The Holy Regency is made up of nothing more than heretics wearing the mask of good-faring Canonists.. CHANGE and REFORM needs to be made soon or else GOD will surely close the gates of the Seven Skies to the truly faithful…” The Templar spoke to himself before going to his desk to start writing.

 

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The short Kha’Cheetrah of Vortice, Xinan, would get his hands on a copy and smile the sun’s smile from his maw at what had occurred between the Silver Empire and the Canonists “This should show Canonists ne to mess with neutral nations that ne want war… but Canonists are hardheaded folk, so they ne listen to own common sense.” He spoke to himself with a soft huff, still bitter about losing his home during the war.

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"Those damned Keens!" yelled Atticus Keen, Keen of Keens, as he rescued a peasant from nearing elvedom!

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A Knight read the post, laughing all the while. "Ser Jones, what the hell is a Snailorinian? Or however you read this here..." 

As he continued reading, his laughter became far louder and more boisterous. "Why do all three of them have the same name, is this a joke? Bahaha! By Puremont, Jones, this is the silliest work of fiction I have ever read! Do you suppose the elves know what war is, or are they still conducting their silly little theater plays?"  He sputtered out before eruption in hysterical cackling. 

"Oh, by the Skies! Anyway..."  He muttered, taking the missive and reaching behind himself. "Not really funny enough to keep lying around. Knife-ear humor is so dry."

At that, Ser Kristoff stood from the latrine, and stepped out.

"Maybe they'll come out to meet us next time. You'd think they'd grow up after a few hundred years, but I suppose not."

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Vincenzo would scoff after reading the missive, his expression hardening with disdain. "The arrogance of those who hide behind their walls, spinning lies to shield their shame," he muttered, shaking his head. "Is it cowardice or delusion to claim victory when their so-called commanders did naught but cower in barracks like frightened children?"

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