LeRenardNoir

Donatien Brunswick smiles widely as he hears of the news, "Time to serve as my Saintly father has done before me. The elves will know fear once more."

The Lord Brunswick arrives, albeit slightly late due to a hang-up outside the gates. He settles into the the throne room quietly, listening as the Emperor gives his speech. Donatien sweeps his gaze across the seated nobles, seeing that no one has yet spoken. The Chancellor rises slowly, clearing his throat before speaking. "Your Imperial Majesty, I am of the belief that war with the Krughanistan Bloc has done nothing productive for our great Empire. But, in saying so, I do not feel we should leave such a threat in isolation, either. They are as a festering wound, by leaving it untreated, they will only get stronger. Thusly, as unfortunate as it may be for the coffers and the wives of our soldiers, I feel as if we must continue to wage war against the Bloc until it is destroyed in its entirety. Only then will our nation know true peace and prosperity. Thank you." Donatien Brunswick nods once in finality before resuming his seat, waiting for the next noble to speak.

The August Chancellor Donatien Brunswick ascends the steps to the palace with a small retinue of family members. Upon reaching the doors, he gestures for both his cousin and uncle to wait outside. Upon entering the throne room, Donatien takes a swift knee, bowing in a most servile manner. "Your Imperial Majesty." Donatien says, in way of greeting. The Chancellor waits for a nod from the Emperor before reciting his oath. "I, Donatien Alphonse Francois Brunswick, August Chancellor of the Imperium Tertius, Baron of Lachsin and Patriarch of the House of Brunswick, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to His Imperial Majesty Emperor Robert, his heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God." Upon finishing, Donatien bows even lower before standing up and straightening his shoulders. He gives a final nod to the Emperor and a ghost of a smile plays across his lips.

Donatien Brunswick sits steadfast at a pile of paperwork as his wife brings him the news of the death of the Emperor. Donatien drops his quill, putting his hand up to his mouth in an equal mixture of shock and terror. A usually very solemn man, the tears come unbidden from him, the Chancellor's emotions getting the better of him. "My family owes this man everything we have, I know my father served him loyally, and I take pride in that. I only feel as if I didn't serve Peter as best I could." Donatien wipes his teary eyes, calming himself down. "Never again will Oren see a man this great."

A fashionable Southeron man observes the proceedings with a healthy amount of disdain. He frowns and folds his arms as he watches the fuccbois frolic and dance.

Donatien Brunswick promptly falls asleep from becoming drunk on wine. He then cries for 40 hours after hearing that he missed the performance of the popular boy bards 'Yon Direction'. Oh what a night it had been.

Based senda always delivers!

To get back on topic, yes, I absolutely support this endeavour. Both sides are so hopped up in believing that they're winning the war that the victory posts aren't even necessary for morale. The only thing victory posts are good for is summing up the events of a skirmish in a far more artistic way than the event actually occurred. I dare anyone to post screenshots of an entire raid and tell me if it's enjoyable to read through pages upon pages of Call of Duty-Lobby-Tier banter. Save victory posts for real victories where something actually happens, not just a skirmish victory, this goes for both sides. They were cool at the beginning, they've gotten stagnant since.

Very necessary.

The Imperial Chancellor scribbles a reply, "It does indeed. If the halflings so wish to participate."

Imperial Chancellor Donatien Brunswick hears of the news, smiling hopefully, "Perhaps this can be the end of this thrice damned conflict."

"It appears Dwarves and Teutons get along so well because they share in the same collective delusion."

Thank you based Senda

I agree with Temp. I've been staying well clear of LotC because of the constant raiding. Oren can only write so many victory posts, it's getting stale because there's just this blunt and rather masochistic determination by the losing side.

A lot of people online for raids are just online for PVP. So, there's your problem. I've seen it on all sides, there's no real IC element to raids, wouldn't say that the swearing has increased, just the amount of raiding.

"RULE ORENIA"

-1

Thank you Based Sheumgal

Donatien nods his head, "This is as it should be."

The Imperial Chancellor sits at his desk, when a servant brings him a letter. Donatien, being rather tired has a sudden look of irritation at the intrusion. "What's this?" he asks, a hint of venom in his voice. "Er..j-just a letter, A-august Ch-chancellor." the servant replies, bowing and scurrying from the room. "Must be urgent..." Donatien muses, pulling out an ornate letter opener and tearing into the envelope. His countenance quickly becomes a storm of emotion, from shock to a dark anger. "So Darfey will push a series of reforms through but he'll excommunicate the righteous men who brought them forth? Absolutely ridiculous." Still seething with anger, Donatien reaches for his pen, drafting up a crude poster. The notice is plastered up in various places around Kaldonia, it reads the following: "Basil and Simon, should you righteous men see these notices, know that you have not been forsaken by Oren and that your message has been heard. Darfey will not dictate who I can and cannot harbour in my own home. I openly support and welcome you to my hall. Darfey be damned, and may the Reform find that they have an ally in the Imperial Chancellor.May God bestow favour upon those whom are truly righteous."

Donatien Brunswick tears the notice off of his door, reading the theses with a feverish interest. "By my Saintly father, I will not abide by this Church, corrupted by heathenism and self-interest. I've had the wool over my eyes, but no longer."

Donatien watches the acrid smoke curl into the sky, looking to Edmond with a look of satisfaction. "You truly are the right man to bear my saintly father's namesake." At that, Donatien would look up at the sky, hoping his father is smiling down upon him from up in the Seven Skies.