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Unread 9th of May, 2006, 12:43
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Prologue: The Knights of Brey (IC)

MAKING, CYRE: 7th of Nymm, 986 YK - Dawn

Today, the citizens of Making woke to the smell of burning ashes and the faintest whiff of something else. Some stayed in bed, while others crept cautiously into the street, dreading what they would find when they gazed at their once familiar skyline. The Last War had certainly taken its toll on the citizens of the land once called Galifar, and most had become numb to the daily horrors as reported by the jaded editors of the Korranberg Chronicle. When the War strikes home, however, a fresh wave of terror washes over the afflicted community as their worst nightmares pass from paper clippings and word of mouth to cold, grim reality.

Tanar Ilyego stepped onto his front porch and looked up Spire Street. It would be a warm day for most of Cyre, because the storm fronts blowing in from the Thunder Sea had finally rolled out over Scion's Sound to the north. The sun wouldn't shine so much in Making, however, because the sky was now obscured by great pillars of smoke rising from the Industrial Sector and settling over the entire city like a dark gray shield. Tanar squinted at the distant pyres from which all of this smoke was emnating.

Where's the Foundry?

But at the crown of one of the hills, where the Cannith Foundry normally towered over the city like an ominous steel giant, there was only twisted steel and rubble surrounded by countless pinpoints of still-burning fires. He scratched his head disbelievingly. That Foundry had been supplying the beleagured Cyran West Regiment with ever-needed reinforcements for years. Without the well-trained, utterly loyal warforged platoons to bolster Cyre's faltering lines, how would they hold off the next Brelish advance?

And who could possibly destroy the Foundry without waking up the entire city? These questions and others raced through Tanar's mind as he went back inside to wake his wife and tell her what had happened, but he would never know the real answers to most of them. The people who had done this were quite good at keeping secrets of necessity, and destroying a Cannith Foundry was certainly a secret of necessity.

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AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION EAST OF VATHIROND, BRELAND: 7th of Nymm, 986 YK - Dusk

Leagues away, and later that day, a quiet celebration was just getting started in a camoflauged tent nestled among the sparsely wooded hills that covered much of eastern Breland. Word of the attack in Making was not yet widespread, but those who were here tonight could clearly see the distant plumes of smoke that marked the handiwork of true professionals. Tomorrow, the local rags would be completely dedicated to covering every aspect of this dreadful attack; who would do such a thing, and to a neutral party such as Cannith East, no less? Sometime tomorrow King Boranel, the sovereign lord of Breland, would publicly condemn the act of terrorism, even in the heart of his enemy's lands.

No one ever needed to know that Boranel himself had called the strike in the first place. War is a dirty business, but the separatists of Cannith East had it coming.

The politics of the situation probably didn't escape those who would celebrate tonight, least of all Jean d'Cannith, who was first to reenter their functional, comfortable tent. It was well lit, spacious, and clutter free; after all, they had only just arrived to drop off their light packs a few minutes ago. She turned and waited for her five companions, who were probably still enjoying the evening view.

[Even if you aren't done with your character, you may participate in this roleplaying thread as long as you have a character sheet posted with your name and some basic information. I'd like for you to all take the chance to get to know one another. This is also an opportunity for you to collectively describe the events that unfurled last evening at the Cannith Foundry in Making. We're leaving that vague on purpose, so be as creative as you wish without going outside the realms of plausibility. When you are ready to join the party, simply begin posting. Characters who are not participating, either because they do not exist yet or their owners do not wish to participate, will be assumed to remain outside until the Prologue is over.]

Last edited by treehouse; 9th of May, 2006 at 12:52.
  #2  
Unread 9th of May, 2006, 13:01
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Jean looked at her pack, thrown on the floor.

The events of the day had been weighing heavily on her, and she shuffled in the pack for a few minutes, coming up with a random trinket she had made a while ago.
She turned it - it was a smallish scene of a cabin, similar to a snowglobe, but it seemed to be constantly raining instead of the usual snow.

She frowned, tossing it back in her pack, and sat down at a table.

"This is stupid... why did they pick me to do this? Could I say my name any clearer? Jean d'Cannith??"

She got up, pacing around.
"Oh, simple Jean, it's Cannith east, why would you possibly care? Besides, you know that the Cyrans have been relying solely on Cannith east, and they've been taking sides - you should have qualms at all."

She sat down again.
"Hah. Bull. They should've picked someone else."

She looked out the tent flap at the smoke spires.
"At least they had the sense to tell us to not kill people.... I wouldn't want to have to defend myself in front of the dispatch. 'What do you mean, you thought it prudent to not injure civilians?? This is war!!'"

She pulled the "rainglobe" out again.
"Yeah, stupid war. Stupid wars just cause stupid deaths, all about stupid, pointless drivel. Ugh... I need to sleep...."
  #3  
Unread 9th of May, 2006, 23:29
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Dahai's pack is tossed -

You're more than a name Jean, you know that. Though, Boranel picked you because they, too, need to know who they can trust...

She sits at the table, looking at the scraps left... that hunk of bread is... good enough.

You don't have war without politics, Jean, and we did sign up for it. You and I both could have just sat out life, well, the lives of the unblooded. You could have sat in your cage and sang, but you didn't, because you wanted more. Well, there you go.

Dahai walks over to her bunk -

"I noticed that most of the workers had gone home, anyways, though..."

She waits, half expecting IED to comment-

"I wish I'd have made a better effort to keep the factory damaged, but save the 'forged. I hate running out of time."

She spits out a piece of mold from the old bread -

"Nine Hells, Jean, it wouldn't have mattered, would it? We'd have had to kill them eventually, had the Cyrans gotten them."

She stands, looking disdainfully at the remainder of the scraps -

"So, who saw us?"
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 00:01
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Rath enteres the tent, stripping off his pack, and setting it on the ground more carefully than Dahai or Jean did. He removes his coat, and begins to rummage through his bag.

"I'd imagine that those that saw us didn't survive the night, wouldn't you agree?"

Rath plucks a small bundle from his pack, and lays it out on the table, carefully unfolding the corners to reveal an unstale chunk of bread, some dry cheese, and a few thing slices of dried Cyran poultry.

"Oh, and good morning, ladies. Compliments of the Spire Street Bakery, and Tomm Cook's Farm Fed Hens."

Rath draws a knife from his belt, and begins slicing the fresh food into portions for the others. He motions for them to feel free to partake of the stolen food. He rocks his chair back, putting his feet up on the edge of the table, a respectable distance away from the food.

"It's amazing what those Cannith wizards can cook up, Jean. I'm truly impressed by their constant ingenuity. To be able to ... remove ... a building such as the foundy like we did, without so much as disturbing an exquisite bakery a mere 2 blocks away... well, thats nothing short of a miracle of the Host itself."

Rath takes a reasonable bite of his food, closing his eyes to savor the taste of the fine Cyran sweet bread. A slight smirk cross his lips as he chews.

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:41.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 02:29
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Aros walks in, shrugging off his pack and wiping soot from his face with the back of his hand. Tossing his helmet onto his pack, he moves toward the table where Rath has laid out an inpromptu meal.

"I hope you brought enough for everyone, Rath." He grins as he helps himself to a slice of cheese, along with a slip of cured meat from his own pack.

Aros removes his sword and sets it next to his chair, he sits, taking obvious pleasure in getting off his feet.

"One thing I'll say, I'm looking forward to a little sack time. These smash and destory missions sure have a way of making you feel your age; I don't think I've had to work tihs hard since front-lining in the infantry.

"At least this will make things a little easier on the boys back home. Those 'forged are relentless."

After sitting a moment, his brow furrows slightly. "How are you with all of this Jean? Still holding up?"

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:42.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 06:01
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"Eh. I'm not that sad, just..."

She shrugs.

"They should've picked someone else. Simple as that."


She gets up, somewhat restless.
"But then again.... wasn't totally without reward..."

She pulls out a scroll case, smiling.
"Heh, stupid Cannith East. Think they're so clever, with their 'oh, oh, look look, what I made, a frombagulatorator!' and their 'great innovations!' Yeah, great innovations of Jean d'Cannith, that is!"

She pulls out the scroll, glancing over it, grinning, and turns to the others, lightly waving the scroll.
"Almost makes it worth it. New boom!"

She moves back to her pack, giggling, and pulls out a shard.
She goes over the scroll, starting the usual transcribing process.


(scroll of whatever, some non-phb spell. this is just 'flavor.')
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 06:18
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Rath sits up, taking his feet of the table. he slowly stands, and stretches, his armor glinting in the light. Durring the mission, a silenced explosion from one of the devices that were caught with a stray arrow sent soot and ash bursting through the room. Thankfully for Rath, Aros' face had caught the brunt of the dirt, leaving Rath surprisingly clean.

"Yeah, lets not forget, Jean. There *are* more important things to our missions than just "new boom." Very important things."

Rath picks up another bit of the sweet bread, and chomps down on it.

"Things like authentic Cyran sweet bread."

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:43.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 06:22
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Jean glares at Rath.
"Nothing is more important than New Boom, Rath Sevari. No-thing."

She holds the glare for a second, then giggles again, going back to the scroll.
"Now what is this, anyway?"
  #9  
Unread 10th of May, 2006, 11:20
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Aros' eyes harden, but that seems to be the only response to Jean's remark. He stands suddenly, cracking his knuckles and hoping that no one noticed the way his fists clenched moments before.

"Has anyone talked to IED yet? Rath?"

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:43.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 12:05
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"I think I saw him a bit ago, watching the 'festivities.' Silly golem... I bet he'd make a good dancer."

Jean is completely oblivious to Aros' anger at her.

"What? Wow, this spell is strange.... I wonder what sort of retarded psuedo-maker thought this thing up."

She holds the scroll on its side.
"Or maybe he's just so clever, he had to obfuscate the symbols."

She rolls it up.
"Eh, inbred, more like it. Silly Cannith East."


She sticks the scroll back, distracted already by mention of IED.
"Back in a flash. I do wonder what the 'bot has to say about this matter."

She walks out, glancing around for the warforged's rather obvious figure.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 12:27
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"So how did you two make out? Both of you uninjured?"

Aros sinks back into his camp chair, following Rath's lead and putting his feet up on the table.

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:44.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 21:53
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"I don't get injured, mate," says Dahai as she hops off her bunk, heading toward the goodies.

"I just get souveniers."

Laughing, she takes a hunk of sweetbread and wraps it around some of the chicken, and munches heartily.

"Mmm... Now that's the good stuff. Hm? I'm good, Aros. No boo-boos to bandage."

She stretches, then sits down at the table with the two men.

Looking at Jean shadow leaving the area, and not hearing IED anywhere, Dahai looks toward Aros.

"Y'know she only does that 'big boom' crap to dig at you, mate. Wouldn't do it if she thought ye really minded - and you don't, because yer both alive - Ooh, cheese!"
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 22:58
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"Yeah. I'd say that its either because of that, or because she's oblivious. As far as IED goes, I have yet to see him. Thankfully, I think we all managed to remain relatively unscathed last night.. or, at least, our wounds were minor."

Rath's eyes close in concentration, and he starts to mouth words for a moment. He stops, opens his eyes and furrows his brow.

"Anyone have a good idea for a word that rhymes with 'Explosion?' I'm going to have to record this adventure in a fantastic story-poem for King Boranel, if I ever get to meet him. I'm sure he'd just love to hear about that sword of yours, Aros, or even your 'pets' (nodding to Dahai)."

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:45.
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Unread 10th of May, 2006, 23:25
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"I guess she's just my cross to bear. It won't affect my work though, I promise. Hmm...explosion, explosion...Erosion? Bah -- Jean would be the one to ask; it's her specialty."

He leans forward, taking a hunk of bread and another slice of cheese.

"I wouldn't discount your own actions, Rath. You did a good job of keeping everyone focused on their goal. I wouldn't hold out for any decorations though. Remember: this never happened, and we were never there."

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:45.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 00:48
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"We were never where, Aros?"

Dahai laughs again -

"Oh, I'll never tire from that joke. It's amazing we ever get paid, we have so many missions that never happened."

Dahai continues munching a bit, but stops, sipping on her cup of water.

"D'you know where, or when we're heading out again - we never get much of a break, and I think it'd do you some good to take some down time."

"Hm... Corrosion, erosion, implosion... Wow, those aren't very happy words. Yah... ask the boom girl about what goes with the boom word."

Thinking of Jean again, Dahai walks over to the woman's bunk, and sees the disorder and jumble. She starts to clean it up, again, but stops, and turns, her brow furrowed.

"Rath, why d'you always leave yourself out of those tales, like you were some... scribe just in the back? I mean, come on - y'danced around that Charger, and dove through his legs, the whole time keeping tempo, event he landing was on the beat! I mean - talk about about dramatic effect. That's the sort of thing that keeps a girl going..."

She looks plaintively at the man -

"Why?"

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:46.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 01:16
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"If I'm not mistaken, we're due to head out tomorrow morning. No rest for the wicked, and that includes me. Besides, I don't know what I'd do with myself, knowing that you guys were all out having fun without me.

"You know Rath, she makes a good point. Do you think you're to good to be remembered with the rest of us grunts? You're not the only one that's decorated."

Aros winks, making plain his attempt to nettle the warrior-poet. As if to reinforce what he said, he buffs some of the grime of the night before off of the small badge pinning his cloak together.

"And make sure you mention how Dahai tore those 'forged to pieces. That'll make a good verse or two."

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:46.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 05:55
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Jean sticks her head in the tent.
"Exploson?"

She mock-grins for a second, winks, then shakes her head, looking back.

"Hah... I'll have you know, I have abilities far beyond your silly 'make it explode' stuff. Like.... umm...."

She drifts for a second.
"Hey, I'm not seeing IED anywhere. Odd."

She shrugs, going back out.


A second later, she pokes in again.
"Tellyawhat, Aros, nex' time we have a mission together, I won't cast anything you wouldn't want me to. Deal?"

She smiles.
"Regardless, gotta go. I'll try to find bolts soon. I also need to do some.... um...."

She drifts again.
"Oh! Bye."


She is, again, gone.

Last edited by zachol; 11th of May, 2006 at 07:51.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 11:05
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"Is she always like that? I would have figured someone from a family that successful would be a bit less...scatter brained. She certainly doesn't seem like she just came from demolishing one of her own foundries. Makes me wonder how she managed to get through her arcane schooling."

"At least you're not so flighty, Dahai. You give me hope that not all women are as crazy as our Jean." Aros offers a wry smile to the druid.

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:47.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 14:10
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"You know what it is? Its not that I dont like to get my fair share of attention, but I'd rather be remembered for my poetry than for any deeds of daring-do. And besides, I've seen my fair share of Warforged Chargers before. The trick, you see, is to know your enemy. These forged, strangely enough, had markings on them dating back a few years to another Cyran foundry that was destroyed by the Karrn's, near the north-eastern Cyran Border. Those 'forged were all trained in the same manner, and as such, their tactics were ... a bit predictable. Sure, they think independantly, but their core movements were easy to predict. Of course, I've *never* been to North Eastern Cyre, and i've *never* secretly worked with those zombie-loving Karrns."

Rath winks, smiling his knowing smile.

"Besides, the rewards I look for aren't just badges and medals. I'm interrested in the experiences! After all, how many times does a man find himself fortunate enough to be in company as fine as this? A woman educated in the ways of Olean the Greatpine, a warrior with a heart able to overcome a wizards fire, and, of course, our own spellcaster, scatter-brained though she might be."

His mind already tinkering away, Rath's gaze danced to the tent's entrance, hoping to catch Jean with the joke. Yes, these folks were quite the entourage. When I get back to Wroat, Rath thinks to himself, I'll have to inform our 'commander' about the effectiveness of this team. Even from the get go, when they used their combined efforts to sneak past the sentries on the outer wall of the foundry and get inside the inner core, the team worked like a well oiled machine.


"So, Dahai, what was the terrible creature you transformed into when you ripped those warforged sentries apart? If warforged could show emotion with their faces..."

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:49.
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Unread 11th of May, 2006, 21:44
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"What, that little Deinonychus? Just a cute little sauro. Me an' my sis and her mates get together in the warmer months and pack around 'shaped as 'em. Talk about the swift hunt! Oh, I love summer..."

She smirks, though, looking at Rath.

"So, what yer telling us is that it's glory, not fame, that y'want. I can agree with that, part an' parcel."

She then turns her attention back to Aros -

"I dunno... I can be pretty... Well let's just say that I know why someone with Jean's station would do things the way she does, and acts out the way she does. Houses are different than military station, Aros. There are... expectations. It's... it's different, an' we all cope. I mean, I turned into a wee sauro and ate 'bots fer lunch - we all have our thing.

She looks to wipe her hands off from the short meal, but finding nothing, dusts them off on her skirts.

Last edited by Mercutio; 11th of May, 2006 at 23:50.
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Unread 12th of May, 2006, 13:35
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The tent wall lifts slightly as the massivly framed warforged bearing the distictive brand of Brelend steps into it. Not noticing the silent stares at his back as he sheds a small bag of gear he turns to the group and sits in the oversized chair left at the table. IED rarely pays attention to the political aspect of the job. Not part of his, or any soldiers, SOP.

"Glory is not duty." IED Says as the group looks at him intently. "Unless that is the mission - to create fear and anxiety in the enemy."

"Where you been." Someone asks as his eyes focus on a small tarnished piece of metal in his hand.

"I was getting a lesson on the word 'genocide' by a pup of a soldier. He called me a race traitor." With a shrug he places the bit of scrap on the table. "Jeans tuning him in right now. He's the son of a lord so I hope she doesn't go too far. One day his lot will be running this outfit and I will be tried as a war criminal for collecting this."

Turning the metal over on the table he changes the subject as easily as if he were talking about the proper dismount technique for airship deployment rather than the core political belief held by some that forged have souls, a conversation he always avoided - it matters little to 'responsible execution of duty', the only philosophy that makes sense.

"See how its painted up to look like mine" he says. "It isn't though, its typical ore. I sense the Cyreans are running out of capital." Bending the material easily in his large hands until it snaps he says to himself "I'll pass it up to intell."

Looking at the pastry treats for the first time IED finishes with "I thought you said you were going to clear an evac perimeter by that bakery..."
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Unread 12th of May, 2006, 14:27
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"IED, glad you could join us. I have to say, if those enemy forged were as skillful as you, it would have been a different fight. Harder, for one.

"And while glory may not be duty, I'd say that you're accomplished in both: duty by your own merits, and glory by the exertions of our very own orator. A man of many talents, it would seem -- talents which include the ability to purchase baked goods while setting up a perimeter."
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Unread 12th of May, 2006, 21:32
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"Isn't purchasing such goods part and parcel of setting up said perimeter?"

Dahai smirks at Aros, then walks over to IED, also looking at the piece of, er, shrapnel. She squats down, so that she can see his face.

"Race traitor, eh. Didn't know that like couldn't fight like... Hey, Rath- did you know that yer a race traitor?"

She snorts, and stands back up, the humor is leaving her though.

"It's war, Bolts, an' the best weapon a person can have isn't a greataxe. We get bloodied, but the wars're won and lost by the ideologues. Race traitor..."

She looks to Rath -

"How can anyone call a person whose heart holds to responsibility and duty like some others hold t'the Host a traitor?"

She's, er, pacing now, with that look. You know - the one she gave to those Cyrean 'forged before she wrecked them.

She starts to stomp over to her bunk and then turns, her eyes brimming, full of fury - she's looking at Aros.

"Why do we even bother?! He's in the army, in the unit, one of the handpicked chosen few, an' he still gets shellacked by the grunts! By the Host I tire of these games!"

Tears are wiped, but Dahai can't find a place to settle. She keeps pacing, growling a little, clenching her fists and jaw.

Nothing to break - well, nothing to break that I won't get in trouble for later.
  #24  
Unread 13th of May, 2006, 00:24
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"Dahai, calm down. You can't get worked up over every gripe attributed to us. War's a dirty job, but it's our job. Wars aren't won by ideologies. They're won by good soldiers, like you and me and IED -- like all of us here."

Aros takes his feet of the table and leans forward slightly, fixing Dahai with a stare.

"Think of it this way: we were insulted, but the Cyreans had their foundry destroyed. Who do you think came out ahead in the exchange? IED doesn't seem too worked up about it, do you IED?"
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Last edited by Doombot; 13th of May, 2006 at 12:36.
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Unread 13th of May, 2006, 06:41
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zachol
Flesh Colossus [Epic GM]

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Jean stumbles into the tent, wiping off her brow.

"Oh wow, that guy is a jerk."

She looks at IED, then the others.
"You know what he called me? House traitor! Race traitor's bad enough, but to suggest that I'm doing something wrong in mercilessly destroying the very heart and soul of my kin! Hah! You'd think he'd have some silly notion of family loyalty beyond nations!"

She looks back at the smoke again, then to the others.
"Does anyone have any chocolate?"

She looks down at the chunk of metal on the table.
"Oh... that's what I think it is, isn't it?"

Last edited by zachol; 13th of May, 2006 at 06:45.
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