THE DESTINED FALL OF PETER THE FIRST

[tsqv 57]

THE DESTINED FALL OF PETER THE FIRST

|| ᚠᚨᛚ ᛈᛖᛏᛖᚱᛊ ᚺᛁᚾᛊ ᚠᛁᚱᛊᛏᚨ ||

 

 

Issued by King Haraldr, on this day of IAÁ 595, AGE OF DRAGONFYRE;

 

 

 

A Call for Fire,

 

The middle of the night struck as The Northern Host prepared for a two-day journey across Azuras.

 

Including their respected allies, though limited to only those without political belief, they stormed out the gates of Verdegrad to reclaim the blood spilled by Peter the First - the prominent, yet highly dishonored ruler of The Horde. A man who smiles brightly, but reigns with a fist of terror. He kills for the sole intent of wanting to be more powerful. Humans, elves - his own people. Children fear him, for they are the only ones who know of his true manner.

 

Though, his actions are to be brought to light.

 

The Blood,

 

Led by a furious Northern child, children across the land of Azuras come together to relight the embers of the fire Peter the First wants out, and that’s his true identity. A sick, distraught ruler with a collapsing empire. Once word of his whereabouts were finally pin-pointed, only then did the Northern Host, and their respected allies, join forces to bring the corrupted ruler in for his crimes.

 

Traveling from Verdegrad to the South-end of Azuras was no issue for the warriors of the Alliance of the Four Brothers. Running through the woods on their horses, passing through small civilized towns. They leave their horse at Alba’s bay, where they travel by boat to The Horde. What is it they see? The wall to their so-called kingdom was under development, meaning the group of Norlanders traveled in without a single issue. No guards, no bells.

 

A party, mostly consisting of children and to-hire mercenaries, was hosted on a nearby beach. Upon land, the group of beloved heroes step out of their boats with weapons drawn. Urgently, every attendee of the party was surrounded. The children were left unharmed, though, guarded for their own protection against their foul nation.

 

Yet, Peter the First wasn’t to be found. None of his faithful dogs spoke out of his location, so the best option was to take what was closest to him - the heir, Peter Simon. With valuable time burning away at the second, the members of the Alliance of the Four Brothers struck their great enemy hard. The to-hire mercenaries were swept away with a single blade, whilst the remaining adults fled and left behind innocent children.

 

Is this how you rule, Peter the First? You place before the children, your corrupted son who abandons the one thing in life we all value - children? Many of the Northern Host fled after the young heir, but before they could even enter their boats, he was out of sight. It appears as though this ‘great-Peter’ hierarchy is a jest to every nation on the continent. But, after the fight had settled, the mercenaries were bound tightly and escorted back to Verdegrad. The children who happened to watch the blood-shed were taken in for comfort and given food and hot drinks to calm them down. 

 

Inside the wooden tavern of Verdegrad was the Northern Host with their bound hostages and the free roaming children they had saved. After the long two days, our heroes thought it was over, and perhaps they could sleep a wink. Though, as the rally had once ceased, a ringing of the bells alerted the guardsmen of Verdegrad. Two men sit in the gatehouse, whilst three larger Norns step out to confront the man.

 

He reigns from The Horde, says his name was Maddock Tam - a young knight bound to a wheelchair. Upon being restrained and stripped of his weapons, he was quickly escorted and sat before the High King. Even being defenseless and weakened, one Norn had kept their grasp on the man, for if anything out of ordinary were to occur.

 

The so-called Maddock, who was recognized as the Archchancellor for his people, pleaded for the hostages to be released, and the children to return safely. The High King, like any proud ruler, wanted to know of the whereabouts of Peter the First, hence why his small army was taken into custody. The Archchanchellor dreaded every moment of his talk with The High King, throwing mocking insults, claiming an impending war above the horizon. The people of Verdegrad and their allies could no longer tolerate such spiteful, ignorant words. And so, when the letter arrived that The Horde wanted to arrange a battle amongst ten of their best men, the High King was quick to put together a group of his best soldiers.

 

And so, the Northern Host and its allies rally once more, traveling South to meet with them in the field. For a man who ran away from a battle, abandoning the lives of not only his army, but the children that inspire the new world, Peter Simon wielded a blade as he led his rally. The lives of children do not concern the man, nor does his weak militant, but the moment the Archchancellor’s death is mentioned, must he then be ready for the big world?

 

The High King wishes the best for not only his people, but those he faces against in battle. He rules with a golden heart, his Red Faith lingering in his sentences. Yet, Peter Simon cannot even look the High King in the eyes? Had he known the faith in his own God had failed him? Peter Simon drew the first slash, though, before anyone had time to realize what was happening, The rally of The Horde had fallen and submitted defeat. The Archchanchellor, who was bound to the rump of a horse, was set free and abandoned in the middle of his defeated, sobbing nation.

 

The New Hope,

 

So tell us, Peter the First, why must you slaughter the innocent, then hide from the consequences you are destined to face? Your reign of terror will be cut from the throat soon, and your head will lay upon the floorboard of The High King's throne room. You may run, but truly, we will find you.

My fellow members of the Alliance of the Four Brothers, is this the closing end of our war?

 

IRON FROM ICE.

 

 

 

AND SO IT SHALL BE, BY THE WILL OF OUR ALLFATHER,

HIS MAJESTY, Haraldr Edvardsson av Ruric,

High King of Norland & High Chieftain of the House of Ruric, Blood of the Herald & Lord of the Ashwood Throne, Jarl Verdrgrad & Prince of the Dreadlands, Protector of the Highlanders

 

Scribed by,

Vargbane Wayde Njordsson

 

 

 

[TaraJess 2848]

A blonde made her way to the bank, an interest of her account's growth in the past year from all the art she has sold. Her private artbooks, however, were drenched in red. Rough sketches of that Peter Rovare, no title in her mind, were all painted red. 

"I am net violent." a new prayer to herself she had taken up. But for him, she was. Quickly was parchment fetched, a note pinned to every location this missive found itself.

1000 mina for the live capture of PETER I which results in his everlasting death.

[Onion 246]

55 minutes ago, TaraJess said:

A blonde made her way to the bank, an interest of her account's growth in the past year from all the art she has sold. Her private artbooks, however, were drenched in red. Rough sketches of that Peter Rovare, no title in her mind, were all painted red. 

"I am net violent." a new prayer to herself she had taken up. But for him, she was. Quickly was parchment fetched, a note pinned to every location this missive found itself.

1000 mina for the live capture of PETER I which results in his everlasting death.

The art is amazing. PEAK

[Wolfy-D 466]

Artemis, one of the "hired mercenaries" who was actually just interested in more events around Beleth scoffs as she finds the missive "so this is the excuse for raiding and kidnapping the children at a sand castle building competition..." Once she returns home she pins the missive to a small bored with the rest of the imperial, idunian, and norlandic propaganda and lies commenting to herself "I do not see why my grandfather seeks to return to that place" 

[Cheese 8876]

One Lady Baruch still waits, quite patiently, for the head of the Archchancellor Maddock Tam who called her “the least of her sex” simply for not caring a child’s birthday party. “How hypocritical of them, to be so misogynistic towards a woman of higher standing than them while they call themselves so tolerant.” She tsked.