iris1612

Godwin Philip Staunton smiles as he arrives in Aleksandia "Ave Courland, Ave Staunton. I look forward to working with my brethren, it's what grandfather would have wanted."

"Courland puppets are attempting to de-legitimize Northern houses on a large scale now," says Nikolai "I had thought the incident with the Rutherns was alone but clearly this is orchestrated as part of a larger plan. It matters not, no amount of inane screeching will change the blood of the North."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzdIoghbFzg THE TRIPLE THREAT ALLIANCE Issued and Confirmed by His Majesty the King of Owessex Arthur ‘the Colossal’ Horen and His Grindiness the Lord of Grind Markus and His Clownesety the Big Kingpin of the Village of Clownetski Rufus Strablaski TO ALL DENIZENS OF AXIOS, As new bonds are formed following the fall of the Kingdom of Haense; The Village of Clownetski, the Confederate States of the Grind, and the Kingdom of Owessex have thusly discovered that they share similar values. These values include that of non aggression, neutrality, the free market, nationalism, and anarcho-capitalism. The purpose of this treaty is to promote a blossoming friendship between these states and to better the isles as a whole to defend against the unholy communist threat. THE TERMS OF THE ALLIANCE: ☩ One signatory shall not infringe upon the internal/external disputes involving that of the sovereignty of another. ☩ The basic abiding by the Non-Aggression Principle and ensuring non aggression between the states people. ☩ Should a signatory break the Non-Aggression Principle, the defending state may initially retaliate through any means necessary. Don’t tread on me! ☩ Should any form of martial, or civil aid between these states be requested against communist beings, boots shall hit the ground, with mutual aid offered to defeat the sanoist threat. ☩ An embassy will be established for all Signatories in the capital of Owessex, New Felsen ☩ A three-way tin can hotline shall be established directly between the Independent County of New Orenia, the Great Grand Grind Hub, and the Village Fire Pit of Clownetski for swift notifications and discussions between both nations. ☩ The delegation of a hotline engineer from all states to ensure the upkeep of the tin can hotline. ☩ Open trade between the two states will be established with the clear consent of fostering a free and ANARCHO-CAPITALIST market. YEAH BOI, His Majesty Arthur ‘the Colossal’ Horen, King of Owessex, Count of the Independent County of New Felsen, the Most Colossalest of All, etc. His Grindiness, Markus, President of the Confederate States of the Grind, Lord of the Great Grand Grind Hub, Lord of all Grinding, etc. His Clownesty, Rufus Strablaski, Rat-catcher and Rightful Baron of Svetsky, Big Kingpin of the Village of Clownetski grind coat of arms goes here lol xd we dont have one

nikolai hums the anthem of the Canonist League

typical libtard i guess

Nikolai's eyes widen as he hears word of this "By the grace of GOD.. the heir to our great Empire has returned.." A wild grin spills over his face "GOD save John Godwin, he is our greatest hope."

Nikolai Rykov had come far in these past few months. He went from a peasant and a lumberjack to a bandit, a murderer, a slayer of kings, even. He was surprised no one had removed him from the Courland palace, all things considered, but that he attributed to his careful use of masks and disguises when doing less than ethical activities. He idly watched the Court session go through; it was held by a man who he’d identified as Frederick Baden-Staunton, in lieu of the King himself, probably because there was nothing worth the King’s time brought before the court. He had been viewing for a few hours, and the line had dwindled as evening set on, until he spied a familiar face. It couldn’t be.. No, but it was! A smile broke across his face as his old friend Pasquale Calabreeni entered the courtroom, and he walked over, ignoring the court session which he’d just interrupted “Pasquale, my old friend!” The Illatian turned, a smile erupting over his face as he went to embrace his Raevir friend “If it ain't my good friend, hey yo I got that ‘package of cookies’ for ya.” he stated, handing him a cloth covered object. Nikolai sheathed it promptly after. Nikolai turned away from his friend, walking up the dais towards the Staunton. This made the man visibly nervous, but Nikolai paid no heed to it as he approached relaxed and unarmed, until he was just in front of Frederick. “So, which Staunton are you? You don’t look like King Toby, though I’ve never seen him myself.” The man on the throne opened his mouth to respond, but they were both interrupted by a rasp of steel. Klaus de Savin had drawn a steel battleaxe and was leveling it against Nikolai “Get off the podium!” He shouted, trying to conceal the fear in his voice. The woodsman stepped back, drawing his own axe, the enchanted runes pulsing a soft purple color “I wouldn’t be making threats if I were you.” The men standing before him had no way to know it, but the battle-axe in his hands was the very same that had removed the heads of King Lothar of Lotharingia, Ser Bruce Hornigold, Romanos Palaiologos, and countless others. Pasquale stepped up from the other side of the podium, drawing his own sword “You bozo brained piece of garbage, you ain't taking one of my buyers dead or alive!” They stood in silence for a moment, no one daring to break the stand-off, but no one spoke. Ser Gared Emmark suddenly burst into the room, drawing a sword as he saw the weapons, and Slavomir, one of Pasquale’s men, brought a heavy Carbarum mace into his hands. And then it all erupted. Nikolai swung his axe at the Staunton, but was forced to retreat by a counter from Klaus de Savin. He and Ser Gared were protecting the Staunton Prince as he ran, fleeing the room and the palace entirely! Slavomir’s heavy mace felled the de Savin lordling, sending him reeling to the ground as the three pursued the retreating Stauntons, battling them all the way out of the palace and into Alexandria. Ser Gared did an admirable job of protecting his quickly retreating liege, but was overcome and felled by Pasquale’s quick swordsmanship, narrowly avoiding being beheaded by Nikolai. They chased Frederick out through the city, but alas, the Prince who’d sought to attack him was much more adept at running than he was at fighting. The three arrived in the main square, shouting. “Gared Emmark and Klaus de Savin are dead! Prince Frederick Staunton has fled his own home after attacking us! No Staunton dogs shall be suffered to live!” With that, they ran towards the gates, their hearts beating as fast as possible. They had lived through the assault, they had beaten off their attackers, and they had escaped, from the very heart of the Courlandic Empire. Nikolai tilted his head back once he was a few metres outside the gates, and noticed something strange. They were being pursued, a large group had followed them from the city, but the men weren’t attacking--no, they were cheering! They were following the three, growing more and more in numbers, shouting out defiant cries against the Courlandic tyrants. They halted at the top of the hill, regrouping themselves, surveying their numbers. Gaylord de Felsen sallied up on his warhorse, taking charge of the group who stood in hushed silence, unsure of what to do next. “They're amassing troops in Alexandria right now. Give them enough time and they'll come out to kill you three. If you want to run, so be it, but I know that with the men we have here, we can take those inbred Staunton cock suckers and send them to meet their heathen god!” He raised his sword and the band in front of him as well, a ragged cheer swelling from the ranks as they lifted their weapons and charged back down the hill. Most of these men had never met each other, but they all had in common one thing: fury. Fury at the Courlandic scum who murdered the High Pontiff in cold blood. Fury at the vile Staunton soldiers who burned down the city of Saint Karlsburg after it was surrendered to them, massacring scores of innocent civilians. Fury at the evil regime of warmongers and cowards who sought to murder everyone not wearing green and black. And today, those very Courlanders would see the power of the fury they had evoked. The battle had been raging for about two hours, and victory was in sight for the rebels. They had already butchered the small enemy cavalry force, and now they held outside the walls, waiting. The Courlanders stood on the walls, firing arrows at the insurgents, but they were too little and too late. One of the dissenters had found his way inside the guardhouse, and grabbed the gate controls, opening the city for all with a triumphant shout! And in a few short minutes, it was over. The Courlanders stood no chance against the men they faced, and were cut down with ease. Alchemist’s Fire exploded in the square, the desperate attempts of a dying soldier to keep the rebels at bay, but it was no good. The guards and soldiers alike were slain, while civilians watched helplessly from their homes. It was almost a sad sight for the woodsman, but it amused him. The rebels vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and he raised his axe, shouting to the civilians of the city “Remember this, Staunton dogs! Your arrogance will be your downfall." With that, Nikolai Rykov turned and walked out of the city as night fell. He could only hope that he was making a difference, but he knew it was right. ((Thanks for the fun rp and pvp, hope yall enjoyed it. Feel free to pm me if there's mistakes that need correcting but I also ask that you take them with a grain of salt, i wrote it at midnight because i had **** to do this morning and no time to write, only to post.

this is just ******* dumb. There's a kid at my school who's name is Gaylord. It's not an insult or a slur, and I'm an actual ****** so I think I'd know what is and isn't homophobic. #FreeGaylord

Tyrannical FM LadyRebecca preparing to deal President Joey of the Free Posting Regiment his 10th and final warning point (c. 1865, colorized)

The author frowns, vowing to be less verbose in his next essay so that the evidently illiterate populace of Courland can still read it.

The Northern Opinion No. 2 The 12th of the Deep Cold, 1607 The 1st Northern Opinion essay, upon its publishing, has received much the expected response; outrage from the Courlandic populace, who seem to insist that the citizens of Haense should simply move on and forget. One must wonder where these desires for forgiveness come from, considering they were not offered to Haense (then Carnatia) at the end of the Riga War. Contrary to the popular opinion in Courland, the Riga War was not a total war. Dion de Savin’s statement that “Courland was destroyed in the Riga War,” is only true because of the Courlandic refusal to surrender. When the war ended with the coup of Riga, placing Percival Staunton on the Ducal seat, the Courlandic populace (or what remained of it) fled to the Dreadlands with Alexander Staunton rather than continue to live in Courland. Riga was not destroyed in that war, nor was Courland. Rather, the population CHOSE to flee and join a bandit nation to harass and attack Imperials rather than live in peace and “move on.” Why does the population of Courland only wish for peaceful coexistence when it is not themselves who are being hurt? In addition to this, after the fall of the Dreadlands, House Staunton and the Courlandic people were time after time given chances and opportunities to prove their loyalties and peacefully integrate with the citizens of the Empire. But even in this they failed, when they attacked and attempted to murder HRM King Petyr of Hanseti-Ruska at his own coronation for NO reason other than petty hatred and an attempt at revenge from the Duke’s War. And finally, such claims are irrelevant to the original essay itself. The essay states only that granting the titles of HRM, King Marius of Hanseti-Ruska to King Tobias of Courland was NOT a term of the surrender; therefore, King Tobias’ usage and distribution of them is illegitimate, immature, and absurd. The titles “King of Hanseti,” “King of Ruska,” and “Protector of the Highlanders” legally belong to HRM King Marius of Hanseti-Ruska, by the terms of his own surrender and by the agreement of himself and King Tobias of Courland. For King Tobias of Courland to usurp them is a grave insult, a petty display of childish dominance and evidence that King Tobias is a liar and an oathbreaker. With magnanimity and grace, I pray for those who long for justice. Signed, A Patriot

Boris Ruthern, the Count who was violently murdered by Frederick Staunton-Baden and his underlings while he went on Courland to make a peace deal, would wonder exactly what Frederick means when he insinuates that Haense was 'bullying' Courland. Of course, he cannot express this because his head was chopped off by the Courlandic soldiers, much in the same way that Owyn II was stabbed by Courlanders in the throne room of Alexandria while trying to sue for peace, and then later murdered when going to negotiate for peace on behalf of yet another group of innocents that the Kingdom of Courland sought war on. In fact, he would note, every single ambassador and diplomat who has gone to Alexandria to make peace since the fall of the Orenian Empire has been violently attacked. Nikolai welcomes his new Staunton overlords

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3ZfrCPKEqM Nikolai was many things, but he would never have considered himself a kingslayer. No, he was nothing more than a simple bandit, preying on the weak and vulnerable, taking a particular faction in whatever vengeance he could extract on the Courlandic people who destroyed his homeland. He pulled his helmet over his head with a sigh, glancing over himself. It was flawless; the green and black tabard hanging over his chain mail armor making him the very image of a soldier of Courland. He walked in through the front gates of Aleksandria, in full Eagle’s Watch guard uniform, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw he was unchallenged. To the people of the city, he was just another guard. He meandered through the streets, greeting a few people, but not seeing any targets isolated enough for robbing. “Hey, you!” He turned at the shout, seeing two other guards. He panicked internally, fearing what was about to happen. They had seen through his disguise, and now he’d be ousted and killed. His hand went to his axe as he uttered a mental prayer, and looked up “Yes?” His grip on the hilt of his simple woodsman’s axe tightened as he prepared for the worst, but it was in vain. “Come with us, we’re escorting the Princess to see a King, we could use more guards.” He relaxed his grip, but his heart beat faster. This could be the opportunity he was looking for! “Of course. Which King?” He knelt before his liege, listening in rigid silence as the Shark listed his targets. King Tobias of Courland, King Philip of Lotharingia, Duke Abdes de Savin; the targets of utmost importance. Then Morgan Keerie, Louis de Felsen, Charles and Sven Staunton, Romanos Palaiologos, and whatever absurd name the ‘High Priest’ had bequeathed on himself; not nearly as important, but still worthwhile targets. These men all had high bounties on their heads, and he was promised plentiful rewards for their deaths. “King Philip. We’re to take the Princess to see her.” These words sent a tremor of excitement through his body. This was his chance to prove himself to his Lord. A target like the King of Lorraine.. This was too easy. “Of course. Let’s be off.” It was him and two other guards, along with a little girl (presumably the princess) who was no more than eight or nine. They protectively surrounded the young Princess as they walked, escorting her to a cart which was chartered for Metz. In less than an hour, they were inside the palace of Metz, standing before the king. The regent was young, and surprisingly handsome. It was a shame what was to happen. He felt his adrenaline pulse, tuning out the conversations as he planned his next move. His target was just across the room, but there were too many Courland guards here. CRACK! His head whipped around at the sound of splintering wood, and he heard a shout. Someone else was coming for them. Another assassin? He moved by instinct, whipping his axe out and shouting directions to the other startled guards “Get the Princess out, now!” It only took a moment for them to recover from the shock, and they did, hurrying the girl away. He stayed behind, nodding to the young King and following him out to the courtyard. There were three--him, the King, and one other man, and looking through the garden doors they could see at least two assassins. The other guard cried out as a third assassin jumped down from over the roofs; as the two turned to face him, he knew it was time to make his move. He swung his axe in silence, no battle cry or call of righteous fury uttered from his lips, for this was not a valiant attack. He was no hero, and there was no glory in his act. His woodsman’s axe cut into the back of a defenseless boy of only sixteen years, pulling a cry of pain from the boy’s lips, and just like that it was over. The other guard turned and fled, running back inside the castle and slamming the door shut behind him, and then it was just the the Nikolai and the other assassin. “Kill him,” came the voice of one of the men outside “Quickly, before reinforcements come.” So he brought his axe up, sparing the boy a final glance, and then brought it down in one clean stroke, killing Philip Owyn, King of Lotharingia.

Nikolai sheds a tear at the man's inspirational speech, becoming invigorated with kingslaying fervor "So.. who's Courland supporting for the new King of Lorraine?"

Nikolai smiles, wiping the late Hornigold's blood off his axe

Jack von Johannesburg smiles

Give Haense the best legacy possible Find a was to get courland to leave us alone and stop searching for ways to hurt us I've done everything else lol