ichigomaster98

Io stops reading after 'To the forever-weak coward of Norland,-' as they sit in the Vale tavern, having routed the Frostbeards by simply arriving.

Io 'Dwarfslayer' Anarórë bursts into their home with a large smile, covered in blood and carrying a large sack of trophies. "I finally caught some bandits! They tried to run like always, but they weren't fast enough this time!" They excitedly tell their wife. "The first one that I killed ran aaall the way to the ocean to hide his tears, but I am faster on land and sea! Then! They came back, and I killed a few more of them that tripped while running from me!" Io neatly sets out all of their spoils on the floor, then picking up a rather impressively made dwarven mace, raising it to show their wife. "The one who tripped dropped this when he fell! It's barely used!" Io then sets the mace down and picks up a midnight-black sword. "He also had this, but I have lots of these." They set it back down into the rather large collection. Io then receives the missive from one of their children, showing them the loot as well before reading it over. "They didn't mention me. That's alright, if they mentioned everything I did they would run out of ink!"

"I like stars." Io says to themself. "Do you like stars?" They ask Blanca next to themself in their home. "I don't know which is my favorite, they are all good spirits." Io then takes Blanca along to find the children to ask if they also like stars.

Io the dragonslaying high elf, best friend of Veralya, sits on a table somewhere far down in the dark humming to themself, kicking their feet over the edge of the table, and doodling on the side of their cannon. "I can't believe they thought it was uncle Kosher." They say to themself, drawing a very cool doodle of a person with wings, a big smiley face, and huge muscles.

"Name, nation, country, allegiance, organization, clan, house, family, guild, ethnic group, region, religion, reason, and why?" Io asks the standard gate questions to a new arrival to the fortress capital city of Vanskgrad. "Do you have any weapons? No? You should buy some in the city for a reasonable price!" Io gestures down the street towards the stall of Paragon Vykk 'The Founder' Volaren, where many fine wares of various types can be purchased for a mina fee. "There's lots of bandits around lately, but they seem to mostly cry and run away, sometimes they leave a hand or two here, sometimes they leave more. Oh! I almost forgot to ask! What is your favorite color, favorite food, favorite drink, what is your ideal first date, do you think tacos are sandwiches- Oh, tacos? Well, everyone knows tacos! They are a Norlandic invention, it's a type of sandwich, just as any other sandwich." Io thinks a moment, nodding. "I think that's all! Watch out for the short ones who doodle green lipstick around their eyes, they're very loud and annoying, but they're not particularly dangerous." Io then allows the new friend entrance into the city.

"Wow! I was just there!" Io says as they return to Vansk with their child.

Io finds a letter in their hands during their trip to Petra, giving a little gasp as they read it. "How terrible Sigismund is! I am glad he wishes to distance himself from his better sibling!" Io returns to the conversation at hand, giving the letter to those nearby to read.

Io sets out to meet their friend-by-proxy Renilde to get her comment on the situation, taking one of their children along on this lengthy journey. "Not every feather of a bird is bad-" they begin to explain on the journey. "Just sometimes most of them. But! Sometimes there are good feathers, they make the best arrows." They nod to this wisdom. "Estrid is the only good feather of the bird, it seems."

Io hopes they can become friends with Estrid, just as their ancestors were once friends.

Io hears Juniper say this as Io arrives to sit in Juniper's window as they tend to do, their smile fading, a sniffle following soon after. Io goes to look through another friend's window...

Io watches Balon The ***** Slapper peacefully raise his ***** slapping hand as they count out an optimal mina-per-Ireheart ratio, not the only ratio to happen today. "Our children may have a real campaign!" Io excitedly calls out to their pretty wife Blanca.

"Io-sefka An-a-ró-rë-me! That's! My name tooooo! Whenever I go out! The people always shout! There goes Io-sefka An-a-ró-rë-me!" Iosefka Anarórë, Grandchild of Boots Anarórë and Scarlet, Child of Eilika Anarórë, Laird Heir of Grenzstadt, Chieftain of Clan Anarórë (including titles associated), Shogging King, Elysium Noble, Rozania Noble, Norland Lair, Honorary Ludovar, Friend to Barclays, Dragonslayer, Giant Feller, Necromancer's Blight, Bandit's Bane, Demon Destroyer, Renowned Archer, Renowned Spearman, Swordsman, Tailor, Reluctant Medic, Patron, Spouse of Blanca, Wall Child, Toxicos of Gendik, and all other titles that do not fit sings as they see they are included in the note!

Come, sweet death. I know, I know I’ve let you down. I’ve been a fool to myself. I thought that I could live for no one else. On the 120th year Boots Anarórë begrudgingly, and finally, accepts something he refused to ever fully accept his entire life. He needs others, but he will always let others down. No matter of perfection in any talent or skill, no matter how complete his control of the world directly around himself. In his seemingly emotionless perfection he will never learn that one thing that ultimately mattered most, how to be loved by others. But now, through all the hurt and pain, it’s time for me to respect, the ones I love mean more than anything. Boots’ life has been a near constant procession of bleak and bitter hardship save for a few, agonizingly brief, blissful years. That pithy period of his life was sufficient to break his meticulously constructed armor irreparably. A mortal wound from which he will never recover. So with sadness in my heart, I feel the best thing I could do, is end it all and leave forever. So it is in this 120th year of his life that Boots decides it is time to depart. To leave this world and return to his home. Home. The home he left for there was no home left. Only now the irony dawns that his life has been a cycle of watching his hardfought home crumble from corruption and betrayal, only to leave and start it anew. Perhaps this time, with any merciful grace of fate, might he finally end the cycle. What’s done is done, it feels so bad. What once was happy now is sad. I’ll never love again, my world is ending. The only purpose cheerful memories serve is to highlight the misery of everything else. For having loved once, Boots will never love again. The world Boots lived in is over, and it ended a long time ago, it just took seemingly forever to accept. Though he doesn’t leave Nyrheim alone, his companion will never match the one he lost, through no fault of her own. Even now, it seems Boots only exists to make those around him heartbroken. I wish that I could turn back time, ‘cause now the guilt is all mine, can’t live without the trust from those you love. I know we can’t forget the past, you can’t forget love and pride, because of that it’s killing me inside. Despite his best efforts Boots never found a way to turn back time, or any other process to erase the stain of love from his soul, and the crushing weight of his failure grinds his soul like wheat in a mill. For all his efforts Boots will never be able to forget love, his most bitter enemy, the only one he was never able to overcome, the adversary that will truly be his eventual cause of death. It all returns to nothing. It all comes tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down. It all returns to nothing. I just keep letting me down, letting me down, letting me down. As he has witnessed many times before, it all ends eventually. No matter of deed or accomplishment, contingency plan or preparation of eventualities will ever stop it all from ending, and in the end does it all return to nothing. Not only did he let down everyone else, he also let himself down. He was a failure both outwards and inwards in his inability to prevent it from all crumbling. In my heart of hearts I know that I could never love again. I've lost everything, everything, everything that matters to me, matters in this world. Goodbye, Nyrheim. Goodbye friends and family, those that still live. Goodbye joy. Goodbye hope. How he wishes he could say goodbye to the bad, and not just the good. It all returns to nothing. It just keeps tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down. It all returns to nothing. I just keep letting me down, letting me down, letting me down. Letters: To Io: To Eilika: To Vunlea: To Jon: To Inga: To Estel: To Vane: To Kera: To Primrose: To Raijen Stars: To Zodd Calliban: To Paheti Heng: To Handil Arazorwyn: To Kosher: To Elliphas: To Duncan: To Kane Redfist: To Lee Sun: To Orin: To Ellenore: To Alara: To Faelar: To Sygnus Aroiia Drakon: To Scatha Drakon: To Brynic Wildmuse: To Nikolai Rosik: To Billy: To Oijin: To Scoria: To descendants of Esmee Rubens: To Ailis and Marta Sutharlainn: To Ciaran and Lissa Vildr: To Edyth and her daughters: To Celeste’Tol Blackroot: To Faye Kervallen: To Watanabe Akemi: To Karl von Theonus: To Renne Fester: To Aedan Faretto: To the Iekamis: To the Anarórës: To the Ludovars: To the Rurics: To Freimark Barclays: To my sparrows, rats, horses, and crow: To My Wife:

Goodbye, My Countrymen As Odin finished his resignation speech and his fellow Norlanders had finished filing out to return to their unending work he took a moment to look around the cramped throne room of Vjardengrad. Much smaller than the Alisgrad throne room, he had prioritized space in the city for his people rather than himself. Odin exhaled a long sigh, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lift only slightly, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy about this or frustrated. A few months later Odin attended the Kingsmoot. He had ensured the result was already decided long before he had even begun considering resigning, planning ahead as he always had, this was no exception. Less Rurics had attended this Kingsmoot than his own, but far more Norlanders were present, a pleasant surprise. As his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for threats to put down before they could be acted upon, he spotted his daughter standing not among the fellow Rurics, but rather among the crowd. A wave of pride flowed through him, though he was not as good a father as he wanted to be, it seemed his daughter made up for it on her own. A little more weight shedded from his shoulders as he saw his daughter and finished the Kingsmoot, one step closer to his grandest plan yet. A few months more and Odin attended the coronation of Balon. Odin thought back to his own coronation, how the Grand King of Urguan Bakir had thrown a tantrum over a Lakian joke (which was repeated at Balon's coronation, establishing a proud Norlandic tradition), a sign of diplomatic relations to come. He could only hope that this newest reign would be a good one, that he had adequately arranged for it to be unsinkable, and full of many more stories and historical moments. Some more weight left from his shoulders, and though he would not be around to enjoy the golden age he had forged he knew that he would be far happier in his own golden age. And so, finally, Odin packed up what few belongings he owned and with a smile offered his hand to Edyth. Little words were needed, this having been planned since Edyth first forced Odin to think of what he wanted rather than what others wanted of him. His dreams, his tireless work, all the headaches and dangers were all in the pursuit of this moment, and his efforts had finally bore fruit. The weight of kingship never fully left, but now it was barely able to be felt over the joy and elation of finally reaching this day. Hands firmly clasped together, Odin and Edyth walked out of the palace, through the square and causeway, over the bridge, and into peaceful retirement without ever looking back.

Boots embarks. Odin attends. Io sleeps.

Io sends a very neatly written letter as is the current fashion trend. "Hello! My name is Iosefka Anarórë of Norland! My grandfather swore a vow to combat hunger wherever it was found, and gave carrots to everyone! He ended lots of famines. I don't have as many carrots, but I do have GIANT carrots! And also lots of bread! Estel also makes pastries, and you can have mine. Visit Norland any time! Whatever a regard is, Iosefka Anarórë, Grandchild of Boots Anarórë and Scarlet, Child of Eilika Anarórë, Laird Heir of Grenzstadt, Chieftain of Clan Anarórë (including titles associated), Shogging King, Elysium Noble, Rozania Noble, Norland Lair, Honorary Ludovar, Friend to Barclays, Dragonslayer, Giant Feller, Necromancer's Blight, Bandit's Bane, Demon Destroyer, Renowned Archer, Renowned Spearman, Swordsman, Tailor, Reluctant Medic, Patron, Spouse of Blanca, Wall Child, Toxicos of Gendik, and all other titles that do not fit on this letter."

Odin begins packing his retirement bags. Odin agrees with his best daughter. Odin continues to work on the paperwork, finally getting near the bottom of the mountain. Odin thinks highly of Theroden, even if the two never saw each other much. Odin hears the calls of adoration from his table in the King's Council room. Odin would love a song, especially if it includes Edyth. Odin thinks back on the unfortunate time when he had to kill his first friend, Aurelion the Gold, but is glad for all the other friends he made along the way. Odin 'The Peacemaker' thinks back on all the times he brought peace through pen, sword, and sheer will. That time Grand King Bakir threw a tantrum and wrote a grudge. That time Urguan tried to false flag Krugmar and Odin's tireless efforts averted an orc genocide. That time Aurelion's rebellion was crushed in a single battle. That time Odin challenged Rex Borok Akaal to an honor duel after the Rex threatened to betray Norland, to which the Rex backed down. Every time the Haenser heartlanders threatened to genocide Norland Highlanders so they could somehow justify calling themself 'Protector of the Highlanders'. Every time Odin protected his fellow Highlanders such as Vistulia and the honorable among the Skanarri. That time Norland killed many many times their number of Mori, and lost not a single fellow Norlander. Odin is satisfied ending his reign with Norland in a golden age and a strong network of allies who mutually benefit, so peace is not solely a Norlandic luxury, but a world basic. Truly a decisive Norlandic victory.

first

The Carrot King takes a moment to grumpily read over the missive, seemingly finding himself distracted more and more from his task, but his scowl is broken slightly by the mention of his grandchild. "Succeed where I have failed." is all the old warrior says as he returns to his chore. The Norland King picks up a paper in his mountain of papers, seeing it is this very missive brought in fresh by an Ashguardsman. He is proud of how far his country has come, and the quality of people that inhabit it, this post a clear sign that though some may make mistakes they may also learn from those mistakes and become better for them. He takes a momentary rest to bask in the gladness that all the work is starting to finally pay off. The love of Blanca's life Io loves their wife Blanca, and has already accepted her as she is, but is also proud of Blanca doing her best. "If I'm the best person you have ever met then you should meet yourself! Blanca, meet Blanca!" they cheerfully say. "Our children will kill two dragons each! I hope the dragons have lots of children too, because that will be two-hundred less dragons in the world!"

The Carrot King grumbles about his own marriage as he works on his tasks. The Norland King fondly reminisces about his own marriage, hoping John will be as happy as he is. He wonders what Norlandic gifts John and his bride would like the most. He will probably bring alcohol. The Shogging King, also recently married, prepares to annihilate people in the brawl if certain mysterious forces do not keep them from it.

The Carrot King hopes this causes the carrot stocks to go up. The Norland King hopes this causes the horse market to flourish. The Maple King smells an increase in the demand of maple syrup. Wait, no, that is just maple syrup they smell.

The Carrot King has grown to respect these once-Orenians, glad they represent the best of the Heartlanders. The Norland King signs the treaty, looking forward in anticipation to the coconuts and honey as well as being a step closer to world peace. The Blanca King looks forward to visiting again, despite the infestation of Kervallens.

The Carrot King is too busy building a carrot ship to sail home. The Dragon-killing King is glad their ability to visit their wife's family is secured. The Norland King is glad for being a step closer to international peace, and the start of a new friendship.

The King of Norland hopes the next Grand King of Urguan continues this upward trend, sad to see another good ruler retire.