lev

“This boy will be a King to remember, be it joy or sorrow.” Albert E. Myre said to Veikko H. @frill

do u remember all the wicked things that went on in Boiendl’s brothel..?

Albert Myre frowns at the sight of this message.

The editor smiles

Having crossed the great ocean, the Barbary Knight rides to the defense of his Sutican allies! ‘Worry not my friends, soon the rest of the hexagonal table of lorraine shall arrive, and we shall vanquish this most evil and heinous enemy that would assault thee!’

i sell pills outside the bike shelter

Huw ripped off one of the fliers, grunting. Taking horse in hand and chiding his apprentice, he headed to Rubern.

“Winds howling...” Huw commented idly.

The unnamed artist swears loudly about being shafted.

“Adulterers don’t go to heaven.” Laertes says from the second circle of the pit.

John’s glass of red wine frowns “That’s not what you said yesterday...”

“My brothers in arms against the purple tide, I am surely glad to see that someone in this world is decent and civilized, unlike those nasty Kaedreni who call you gypsies, surely they are the gypsies! The Barbary Knight salutes your new found stature sir, and wishes you luck in your regal endeavors!” Ser Jonah of Lorraine comments to a porpoise.

The Barbary Knight read the emissive, as a narwhal delivered it to him. ‘Fear not comrade Ser Loras of Lorraine, soon I shall have crossed the wide and narrow sea, and shall reek havoc upon these men, for am I not, Ser Jonah of Lorraine?’

Albert E. Myre’s Practical Rules For The Sport of Fencing Albert E. Myre vs. Veikko Harjalainen circa. 1740. Rules Each duelist shall be required to wear a standard issue leather jerkin, and to wield a regular sabre*. A match shall be overseen by a triumvirate of certified judges, so as to provide fairness of judgement and witness. A match shall conclude when eight bouts have been fought. A bout is defined as a session of active combat, lasting until a successful strike has been made. Giving the victor a point. The gentleman who wins the most bouts shall be named victorious as winner of the match. During a match, each judge shall take note of the duelists’ abilities; for each bout, they shall each award a point to the duelist they found more skilled; and, should the bouts end in tie, these points shall determine the winner. A successful strike is defined as reaching a point of contact between the nape of the neck and above the waist, considered the upper torso. The blade of each duelist is to be dusted with a portion of pigment, so as to demarcate successful touches upon the other’s upper torso. Should a duelist make his attack and his gentleman opponent successfully parry, but his gentleman opponent not use the opportunity to make an attack himself, the primary duelist gains priority in remise. During the match, if a duelist loses his blade at any time he shall forfeit the match. During a bout, a duelist is not to show his back to his gentleman opponent, nor is he to use his back to shield incoming blows; should this happen, he shall forfeit the bout. The non-dominant hand of each duelist is to be placed in such a manner as to not block incoming strikes; should such occur, he shall forfeit the bout. A gentleman shall never draw blood, if he does so, he is to be disqualified from the match. *Blade length between 34”-35”. [OOC mechanics]

“Wait, I thought you were the western Turkin?” Albert asks in confusion!

Gotta remember to take my Gael’s Curse every morning, don’t wanna be a babymomma!

Captain C. panted heavily, looking down upon the city of Helena- his city. The one he had protected from the brigands and bandits who would seek to do her ill. In his old life he had not been up to the task as a man, so he became more- an idea, for no one can kill an idea- hope is immortal. He slowly removed his mask panting heavily as the frosty mist overtook the dark and empty midnight square. He read the leaflet that had found it’s way to him. “Time to go home.” *The City of Helena would note the absence of Captain C. [!]*

I’ll be voting LibDem on 12th of december to oust the Tories from my constituency.

“Friendos?!” Shouts Lev in wide-eyed revelry

“Ug.” Albert E. Myre agrees from the spirit realm.

“Ah tew am lukin fur new thpouse, maybe we kan make date?” A toothless gypsy crone grins, accentuating the large wart that sat on the end of her nose.