PEACE AND LOVE

[Slorbin 2932]

The Merchant-Baron of the Musin is both excited and horrified. The natural part of him realizes the immense profit that can be made from this war.

 

On the other hand…

Spoiler

His darker ideologies make him worry. Hadrian could not be the one to hold the singular Lordsake. It must not come to pass. A fool such as him would bring Calor Mors to creation too early. 

It is not time yet. This war must be prolonged to the detriment of all but him.

[Adelemphii 1766]

 

The room was quiet at first- too quiet. The only sound was the rhythmic scrape of Miyu's blade against the sharpening stone. Candlelight flickered in the cool, shadowed room, casting long, restless shadows on the walls. Miyu, sitting in the center of the room, felt the stillness settle into her bones, the calm before the storm. Her naginata rested across her lap, gleaming faintly even in the dim light. Every inch of her body tensed as her focus intensified. She had crafted this weapon herself. The weight of it was familiar, but the weight of the missive she'd just received lingered heavier.

A single voice shattered the silence, as her teacher presented the missive. "Activate armoring protocol, Miyu-san. We are going to war against humanity."

War. A word that settled like dust on her chest.

The silence stretched, thick with the anticipation of what was to come. Miyu rose, a fluid movement that seemed almost effortless despite the tension gripping her muscles. Her boots thudded softly against the stone as she approached the entrance of the forge. The temperature in the room was cool, the air still heavy with the scent of charcoal and steel.

With a sharp pull on the bellows, the quiet was broken by the explosive roar of flames- crackling, popping, alive. The forge blazed to life, its red-hot core glowing bright enough to cast the whole room in a fiery glow. Sparks flickered upward, as if they, too, were preparing for the battle to come. The heat intensified, but Miyu stood firm, watching the flames dance in a reflection of her own unspoken fury.

The mechanical dolls, delicate and silent, trudged across the stone floor, carrying heavy slabs of raw metal. Their movements were mechanical, purposeful, depositing their precious cargo where Miyu had long prepared for this day. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the forge, a constant, rhythmic reminder of the work ahead.

"War, huh?" Miyu’s voice broke through the crackle of the flames, her words laced with a quiet intensity. "Bound to happen eventually. Here are the drums of war, fueled by the fire deep within." Her eyes flashed in the glow of the forge, the light revealing the steel of her resolve. "Time to turn this fire into something that will burn."

The storm was coming. And Miyu would be ready.

[Random 1690]

“Through our overwhelming LOVE, we will bring PEACE to this continent.” mused Adûnakhôr high atop the white towers of Minas-Aradar, the royal palace.

[SethWolf 2340]

26 minutes ago, pkdon said:

Within the Knight’s Hall, breathed a low steady noise. Two men sat opposite each other, attended by their squires. Leather straps were drawn tight, buckles clicking shut one by one. The steel plates kissed together with familiar clacks, as pauldrons were settled on the shoulders to bear them. One looked across as he fastened the final clasp of his vambrace.

 

“It is time, brother.”

 

The Crown Prince spoke, his gauntlet striking into place at the flat of his palm. He reached for his sword, as untested in true battle as he. Nevertheless, it held a surety that it should not falter, bolstered by the conviction of his own heart.

 

“The sons of Malin were wise to cede peacefully. Those spawn of Krug and Urguan are gravely misled.”

 

He rose to his feet, helmet nestled against his cuirass as his eyes wandered out the stained-glass window.

 

“This is not ambition. This is birthright. Mankind was destined to lord over all.”

 

  Reveal hidden contents

@SethWolf

 

 

 

Titus was sat opposite of the crown prince, slowly sliding a whetstone down the edge of a great battleaxe. His head lifted to listen to his brother speak, and allowed a silence to befall the two of them as he collected his thoughts. He stood straight, carrying said weapon along with him. Black metal sabatons clanked against the stone floor as he walked to stand alongside Marcus.

 

"It is time." He repeated, his gaze too following his brother's out the window of stained glass.

 

He looked down to the battleaxe he held in his hand. An axe that he had comissioned from the Dwedmar so long ago. When he first recieved it he was too small to even lift it off the ground. Now he was a man, and this creation of Gotrek's own hammer would draw its first blood in the fires of war, and against its very own makers.

 

"Through this great contest we are soon to endure, we will bring the light of the Empire to all corners of this continent and beyond."

 

Titus finally reached down to place his blacksteel greathelm over his head, and stood with his brother to ponder what the coming years would face them with in these times of fire and ash.

[fizzyquack 564]

"Ave the Horde."
"Ave Urguan."
"Glory to the Rose and Star."
"We will win this... and I will do everything I can.." 

" So one of us has your head on a pike Hadrian."
"Aspects Guide us all."

The 'aheral would then walk off... an expression of worry upon her face.
This was war, the thing she was oddly hoping for.

She hoped, that the Horde would win.

[Kardika 1057]

"Ha-hahahahahahah..." Shamizir the Sanguine cackled, "well I'll be damned, this is the best news I've heard in a while..." The Salvian commander would soon began to plan the next offensive into Imperial lands.

[Coronate 5519]

"The Uruk is a festering mess. They have taken everything given to them and thrown it into their fire pit so they can dance around to fake spirits and manifestations of Baal and Moloch. Worse even are the dwarves who have succumbed to a brain worm native to the cavern they chose as their home. I cannot wait to impale both. Or perhaps.... just a little bloodeagling........." Lord Vander spoke, sipping on some Johnny Walker with Hadrian in the war room, Why? Because he studied.

[ChainedDragons 1374]

Bron stares at the missive and takes a deep breath before chucking it into the forge. "Can we fucking NIET?" He shouts, aggravated that now that he was left little choice but to fight in a war he wanted NO part in.
Not being able to get those gemstones now was just salt in the wound.

[Riot 743]

Deep within the mountain, the ring of hammer on anvil does not cease.

 

Sparks burst and scatter across the stone floor as Dorin Starbreaker brings the hammer down again — and again — each strike heavier than the last. The forge roars, bellows strained by a foot pressed hard and unmoving, heat washing over his soot-streaked face.

 

His jaw is set tight beneath his beard. Eyes narrowed. Angry — not wild, but contained, like pressure locked behind stone.

 

A folded missive lies nearby on a crate of ore, its seal broken, its contents already read. Ignored now.

 

He does not curse.  

He does not shout.

 

Instead, he works.

 

Pick and hammer answer one another through the halls — miners digging deeper, faster, stone screaming as veins are torn open. Steel is quenched. Edges are honed. Armor plates are set aside in growing stacks, unfinished only by time.

 

Dorin pauses only once, bracing himself against the anvil, breath slow and controlled. His knuckles are white around the hammer haft.

 

War was not his wish.

 

But it has been chosen.

 

The hammer falls again.

 

Stone remembers.

And the forge prepares.

[kuerbis 3802]

As Valentiná set the final, delicate stitches into the hem of her wedding gown, those news reached her. The needle paused mid-thread. A faint crease of displeasure spread itself across the Asturian's features. Slowly, she laid the needle aside, the fine silk slipping from her fingers as she rose from the comfort of her armchair. 
A mace rested nearby, unadorned and honest in its purpose. Valentiná's grip closed firmly around it's hilt. 
"They have an uncanny talent for spoiling my jovial spirit. Just as Krugmas concluded, just as I prepare for my marriage vows..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Those dwarves," a deliberate pause followed as she glanced at Joan's face from across the room @trinn, "... I can only hope they understand what they invite upon themselves when they dare challenge the might of our Empire."
One by one, the frills and finery, jewels and gemstones, satin and silk she wore were cast aside. In their place came steel plate and an iron will.