- 1 2nd April
- 2 5th April
- 3 11th April
- 4 15th April
- 5 20th April
Summer Day -- Kail
Sitting in Kail, waiting for the orders to attack, the Baron of Astin was thinking about how to win this war:
"...now that I got some fine archers from Taselak all I need to win this war is to reinforce the Moutain Midgets with Cavalry.... but where to find so many goats? Maybe we can find some big dogs they can ride on..."
Summer Evening -- Kail
Isabella le Craint
Isabella was prepared. The campfire had be lit and her men had began to gather. Across the table, an assortment of weaponry was spread out. Melon Maces, Strawberry slings and even a banana bow. She had asked for her 3 bravest warriors to join her at her camp tonight for a competition of sorts. A battle of the fruits.
Many of her men had began to argue over which fruit was best for combat. This started as simple arguments but last night it erupted into a brawl. She devised the plan to settle this. The three warriors, including herself, gathered around the campfire. Others had arrived to watch, drinking beer and ale, cheering about different fruits.
Isabella climbed atop a nearby table, slammed her foot against the hard wood to get everyone's attention and threw her arms up in the air.
"Tonight, we settle these arguments. I have had enough with the bickering and infighting. We should be proud to wield all fruit but instead you have resorted to fighting. THIS ENDS TONIGHT."
There came a roar of cheers and applause from the group.
"The three who stand before you have taken up this challenge. Meridith, master of the slings. Drax, an expert marksman. And Grath, a monster with a Mace. They have each chosen their weapons and are ready to fight."
Another cheer from the crowd followed by the slamming of mugs on tables and chairs. Isabella jumped down from the table and approached the three.
"No hard feelings if you lose. Of course, the winner will be rewarded. Because wheres the fun if there is no prize." She laughed and approached her tent.
Entering in, she looked around for a moment, considering her options. Her eyes lit up at an idea and approached a large chest. Within, she pulled out a larger flail. Three heads of spiked apples, attached by chains, and a strong oak handle. She smiled and left the tent. None of them were wearing armour, for that is no fun. The four of them encircled the fire. Isabella lifted her flail and let out a might roar.
"LETS DO THIS!"
Riding on goats a delegation of Mountain Midgets from Astin at the Battle of Fruits. Unfortunately they were disqualified for eating their weapons.
Ammer and his men casually strolled the battlefield sifting through the corpses of the enemy. When the Captain of the Angry Peasants looked up to Ammer he frowned with curiosity.
"Sir?" he queried, "If I may ask, what is that in your mouth you are sucking on?"
"What? this?" Ammer pulled it out waved in around, "Just a finger I cut from the dead Ikkie over there"
The captain scowled.
"You ought to try it" Ammer encouraged, "Tastes like chicken"
Oswald looks out to the utter ruins, the massive amounts of arrows that are sticking out of the dead men of Ikalak there.
Oswald looks, looks and looks some more and then just rips off his marshal badge and practically yells.
"CURSE YOU TASELAK! IT SEEMS NO MATTER WHAT I PLAN YOUR UNITS ARE TOO STRONG! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
After writing a few letters, Oswald goes into a near coma state from the recent shocks to his life.
Summer Day -- Taselak
Brave Harte looked at the letters stacked up on his desk.
He careful placed his flagon down on a stack of books and picked up one of the letters from someone or other.
It read, Blah blah blahhh blah blah blah blahhh.
He added the parchment to the fire and grabbed another.
Blahdy blah blah. Blah.
Blah! Blah blah! Wahhhhhhhhhhh.
Blah blah. Blahhhhh blah blah!
All of them.
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah wahhh bah.
They made a nice fire and Brave Harte imagined the rolls of parchment as the bodies of the men and women who wrote them, writhing in pain.
He picked up his flagon and took a long haul before propping his feet up on the table and settling down into the cozy couch. Life was far better with fewer worries.
Summer Evening -- Taselak
Brave Harte stoked the fire with more scrolls filled with letters containing nothing but "blah blah blah".
Summer Day -- Taselak
He read the report and bellowed. "NOOOOO! GREAT BEPPO AND ALL THINGS GROWN FROM THE EARTH!"
He sunk to his knees. His men looked grim.
He saw their faces, covered with dried plum skins for camouflage, and found strength. They looked ridiculous, but they were his. They stood by him. As all Taselakians stood behind their banner.
He looked up. Taselak flash snapped in the wind.
We will be victorious, for him, our King. For Taselak.
Visit While you rot in your cell, Mithril Sword of Justice Ammer Soul visits you and says:
You brought me gold, that is well....Now did you bring me steak? or do I have to chew your fingertips my good lady?
Summer Day -- Taselak
Random Acts of Violence
Walking past one of the farmsteads in Saenna his eye fell on an unsightly scene. One of the peasants, by the looks of him the father of the bunch, was protesting. How absurd Adoran thought to himself. In reality pleading was a more fitting description as to what the aging farmer did. As he appealed to the warriors to not beat a young man blue and purple.
On the ground, cradling his face between his arms was a brawny youth of perhaps sixteen summers. His clothes freshly torn and his body rapidly collecting welts quicker than a greedy tax-collector could extort coin from unlucky prey. The elderly man clenched his wrinkled hands until they were fists and muttered under his breath as his eyes informed him of the futility of violence. Especially as the warriors bore weapons of steel and he had a broom at best.
Beholding the scene as it unfolded for a while, Adoran grew bored. Peasants declared for a foreign and hostile government, peasants declared.. that thought alone sparked the embers of fury within him. They had this coming to them. The makings of a hard and spiteful smile began to appear on his face as he strode off. Leaving the peasant family to their fate. A fate rich in pain, robbery and ultimately, misery.