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THE PEACE

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Theodemar, the Reinmaren Herald-Duke smiled softly, this was a sured path, upon seeing the missive spread he'd proclaim,

"Wer Rastet, Der Rostet!"

"The Wardens of the Franklands return to their homeland!"

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Ted Brae, the Clown-Honktiff, smiled and honked his nose,

HONK

PEACE WAS NOW!

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The Burgrave of Wesenburg rejoices for the coming years when he will return to the land of his grandfathers!

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“GOTT has willed it, Reinmar will be on the right side of History once more. Goodbye, cruel and unforgiving north. Goodbye, Ferdenwald.” Martin commented as he read the Prince’s missive, idly walking through the Kanunsberg manor as to prepare for the coming exodus.

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Robert Tiberius Alstion would surely have been rolling in his grave were he alive this day, having to find that his new home would only return to the Franklands of which he personally resided in a begrudging past. However, in his legacy came a new generation in that of Martin Alexander Alstion. A boy of more humbling character and fruitful spirit, and most importantly a boy unclouded by grudges of the past. In this land he had only heard of, the Alstion boy would surely find his future.

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Whilst reading the conditions of peace agreed upon by his great-great-grandson, Wilheim Barclay would forget to look where he was going, losing his footing and subsequently tripping down the largest flight of stairs within the familial keep. In his panic, he'd grab one of the servants who had the misfortune of crossing his path, sending both of their souls to wherever God deemed fit.

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"Eam sick en Feeble" Earoslav says bedridden as he welcomes the Minitzers back to the Heartlands

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Erminhilde,  Aloof in her stuffy barracks room in Kretzen, shed a tear, both of relief and sorrow. Kretzen was the only Reinmar she had ever known, and she would surely miss it "Finally... peace in our time"

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A runestone stood proudly, weathered yet readable.

 

ᚺᚨᚱᚢᛖᚲᛟᛉᚨᚷᚺ ᚲᛚᚢᚲᚨᚱᚢᚾᛃᛟᛉ ᛟᛁᚾᛟᚷᚺ

ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕜𝕠𝕫𝕒𝕘𝕙 𝕂𝕝𝕦𝕜𝕒𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕫 𝕆𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕘𝕙

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