Vas

I love Prophet Isa.

MC Name: Tharask RP Name: Orhan 'Strongbow' Giray Persona ID: 86138

The horsebound nomad staggered around the camp, visibly drunk, as the missive was being read out to the men.

Masterpiece.

3:50 is the best part ong.

Ramadan mubarak, habibi. I hope everyone has a nice Ramadan!

delete nations totally

The Farmhand Returns Harlond dug his shovel into the soil, then with his right foot pressed into the metal he brought up the dirt - and threw it aside with his mighty arms. The farmer was digging up nowhere, residing nowhere and living in nowhere. He didn't have anyone around him - he was lonely, for only the ground and his crops were with him. A lonely farmer with a small hut along the river, decorated only by a few misleiden pieces of furniture strewn about haphazardly. He had one mission; to farm the earth upon which he sat. As he was doing his work - he cleared his forehead with the back of his left hand, then looked at the sun that was shining its cruelty upon him. The farmer took a deep breath, however, and without a break he continued his work until he started to hear the subtle click of hooves upon the gravel inlaid in the paths of his own small lands. As the horsemen came closer to the lonely farmhand - their horses stopped near the farm, not going further. Harlond then moved on to greet both of the men, dressed in fatigues easily recognizable as the uniform of Acre's levymen. He held the scythe in his hand carefully, testing its weight with both of his hands. - "Why're y'eh here?" the lonely man asked. A reply followed in suit with; - "We did scout y'eh alone among these lands, and we thought it would be better if you worked with us, since there are n'uh other thing nearby," one of the cloaked men replied. Harlond was originally a man from Acre, a close cousin of Hannes. Many years ago, he had needed to retire from his job due to a sudden illness. When he had recovered, he did not ever return, for fear that the others might see him as sickly, especially his relatives. Though when he looked upon these men, extending their hands in brotherhood, he knew where he belonged. He continued to speak, examining both of the men as kin - "I know where y'all came from, and I'd be glad to be taken away. So please, give me some time," with that, the lonely farmhand moved on to fill his backpack, grab and move his things, meanwhile leaving alone his simple hut. Following the trail of the horsemen, his back faced the lonely life he had lived. He knew he would come back one day. But for now, he was led to the Barony of Acre, where he belonged. Finally, The farmhand was back.

My shades Dior, my pants velourCreate, explore, expand, conquer

İ think i fix that problem.

Done sir.