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“Send a letter to this hedge-land soothsayer on the morrow, for I wish to commune with the ghost of mein uncle, and ask him where he hid the prize silverware!” A swineherd from the outer regions of Northland requests of his ‘prentice son.

“Broom Broom...” A wonk in a dress suit and monocle would say dreamily...

Heard you were the only black person in finland can u confirm?

How can anything from the void be considered celestial 😬

Dragon go brrrr

Maxim Falstaff looked up from surgery, his white apron stained with blood splatters both new and old. The apprentice boy who had entered the chamber gawked, hastening his gaze away from the gory scene. “Master sir.” The boy mumbled, “Black and white banners have landed shore-side.” The lad stole an apprehensive gaze of morbid curiosity at the limp body of the patient. “Right, thank you Johnson.” The doctor said, returning his attention back to the operation at hand. The boy nodded, closing the door and leaving with as much eagerness as he had entered. “How curious, that distant kin brace these shores, no doubt in search of fame and fortune. I hope good fortune meets my cousins in Guise, as our family histories are hardly pleasant.”

Huw heads towards the northern territories upon seeing this contract.

“How barbaric.” a latent homosexual Ironrod clan member gasps!

Time is not relative to race.

The Saneyir furrows his eye as he crumbles up another failed attempt at a speech and tosses it into the bin.

Let’s have it be event only, less CA’s please.

Buy her ******* art!

“Truly, churchmen die bloodier deaths than tyrants.” Maxim muses.

“Neptune bless the Emperor.” Maxim pronounces proudly.

Doctor Maxim Falstaff, readies himself for the impending trial, reminding himself not to reveal his true identity again.

“I shall attend of course friend. Only ash remains.” Haethiul mutters, making the preparations for the journey from Luxem.

((I recognise this, what is it based on nect?))

This.

“That city looks frightfully familiar.” Reynard commented as he inspected the ghost of Aleksandria.

Grad Ulruch von Lochlear und Stahl’s assistant Manfred aep Manne gasps in horror as he watches his master as quickly as the match strikes, engulfed in flames! The miasma of the event causes him to gag, but he knows what he must do: put out the fire at all costs. “Do not worry master, I shall save your hide!” With that, he unbuckles his belt, and hefts down his corduroy pantaloons, as he prepares to put out the flames.

“Good John, you’ve done admirably!” Albert E Myre spluttered out between mouthfuls of pork-pie.