Legoclub22

An aged knight knelt atop the most sacred peak of Mount Vindicta, placing his chipped sword and battered helmet before him. He looked down upon his people, at long last free to grow and to prosper in their own homeland. Looking to the horizon, he watched the sun beginning to set over the Pontifical States. Surely, it was the end of an age, and indeed, it was the end of the age of this Knight. He looked to the opposite horizon, and saw the dark night beginning to creep into the sky. He reflected, then, on the dark and evil days he and his people had websites. He remembered all that was lost, all the faces gone too soon. He looked heavenward, to the glorious array of white and gold revealed in the clouds above by the setting sun. He saw into Paradise in that moment, and saw a number of familiar faces looking down.

"AVE KEEN! AVE IVÖRIA! JUSTICE SHALL BE DONE, IN GOD'S NAME! STOP THE FRAUDULENT AND CORRUPT PROSECUTION!" A disheveled, slightly manic Knight said from atop a mountain, wherein he hid in solitude. He had not really read the missive, as it was a lot of words, but apparently he was very opinionated. "Sir, I'm just a courrier... Did you want to send a reply?" "No, that is all."

MERRY KEENSMAS!

Cheesed to meet you

"AVE IVÖRIA! AVE GOTTENTHAL! AVE KEEN!"

"I don't remember anyone posting the head of a mother of three on a pike outside of our camp. That's a brilliant idea. We should have done that tenfold! Too bad it didn't happen..." Ser Kristoff said, pondering the missive.

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."

"Kneel before the Altar of GOD!" the Ivori Knight called to those present in the Church. He knelt, removing his scabbard from his belt to place it before him and lean his great helm upon it. "Our Father GOD, most high King of Kings! Hallowed be Thy name, and eternal be Your providence! May Thy will be done in all things, as it has been done on this great day! Glory in the highest to You, O God, who grants victory to the righteous! May Thy will be done in all things, as it has been done on this great day! Glory in the highest to You, O God, who grants victory to the righteous! Sanctify us, Gracious Father, that our hearts may be pure of ill intent, and our hands clean of wrongful deeds! Strengthen us, Almighty Lord, for a thousand battles to come! Deliver victory into our hands, as we are delivered into Your hands! Blessed be the Sons of Horen, as our forefathers are blessed. Blessed be our deeds, as Your will which guides us is blessed! May we celebrate on this day, O Lord, all the mighty works of Your hands! In the name of Victory, in the name of Righteousness, and in the name of Providence. In Your Holy Name we pray, O Lord! Amen!" The Knight then signed the Rhodesian Cross, standing with his blade and returning it to his belt. He turned and departed from the Church with his company.

"The wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the Righteous are as bold as a lion," An Ivori Knight stated from the ramparts of the besieging camp.

"The boys are back in town!" A Knight said, as he fired off a canon shot into the walls.

"Ave Ivöri," an aged Knight uttered, "Ave Keen." He gazed across the mountains before him, breathing in the cool, fresh air. It invoked in him a sensation he had not felt in years. "By God, we shall have our home again."

AVE IVORI AVE KEEN!

"I LOVE BEN JONES! I WILL DIE FOR BEN JONES! AND I WILL MOST CERTAINLY KILL FOR BEN JONES!" Said a humble monk, brother Parsifal. "I will kill anyone who votes against this man. THAT IS A PROMISE!" At that, the monk marked his calendar for the election, and began sharpening a number of rocks, which he planned to throw at anyone who voted incorrectly.

MC Name: Legoclub22 RP Name: Brother Parsifal Persona ID: 72811

Glorious. Rest in peace, Ben Jones II, alongside the great Ben Jones I! May Ben Jones III reign in glory for years to come!