The War of the Last Laugh

[Sanguine415]

The year of 1751 rumbles through Theria not with a whisper, but a bang. The High Lord of Myllenoris had made a claim against the Task family; had made demands of Theria in its conduct. A press conference is called in the square before the statue of Garljing, already several imps scattering in the sidewalks with bulging, inhuman eyes. Dun Task, elder statesman of Theria, had this to say.

“The good Lord Finn has asked my confession, and in truth I have long been waiting to give it. My remaining time is short, but I think there’s still time for a good project, a last laugh or two. So I’ll tell you Finley, you want to know what’s funny?


I made Nox’s scythe; knew she was a lost puppy of my even more lost love Eudocia. The thought of Osrona, only fifty years after being plagued by the infestation of Moonfall’s coven, being infested by witches so deeply in high society amused me to no end. I thought it was hilarious, and I have no regrets. That it happened not once, not twice, but three times while the boy king clung to divine right like his mother’s teat was professional comedy even by my standards as a clown. Should have paid more attention in your history lessons.”

An old, withered ad of Slick Sicks going into bankruptcy shortly before his Felblooded death from old age is depicted in a sad ad as the column continues.

Duana Kurokaiyo was my niece, her earliest efforts of chaos before her demise sponsored by my guidance. Chaos is important for growth, conflict is key to ensure stagnation does not rot the spirit of the land after all. My sons have found friends with the demons as I did in my prime, for they are warriors with spines willing to fight for their lives day in and day out. The slimes, Nebula’s gift? Charmingly naive, but precious in a sense. And yet you murder them freely and claim them evil as witch blood flows through your veins.


I hate bullies. Always have. And I do love a good party. Like Atreus Ghede’s back in the day, sacrificing First Light knights for giggles. The first demon I’d seen summoned, but boy you can bet it wasn’t the last. I was around at the black spire, I saw their plans to sack Osrona. Lady Veles, Yalmavanta and Douma the spiders, the noble wolves and their royalty. Their shadow, the black spire’s, remained long after they were gone.

Another worn ad shows Sicks on his deathbed, the words “SAVE SICKS” in bold amongst otherwise tattered, pleading letters.

Their assaults aided my revenge. Eroded the once unstoppable Osronan empire to the state we found it in when my city was besieged. When the great war toppled and shattered that which had been the most dangerous threat to Theria’s sovereignty. That which held back the last great horde of those invigorated, chaotic harbingers of change and growth that are battle hungry demons.


So now my boy Finley, you question the intentions of me and mine? I lay them bare, the game was rigged from the start. Seeds of erosion to break the great alliance that could very well have wiped my people off the map. That was not only willing to, but TRIED to of their own volition out of arrogance and greed. Do you think I had forgotten? That I had forgiven?

Another, final worn note is not actually an ad. It’s an Obituary for Sicks Seven, a well esteemed proprietor of the lauded bathhouse of Theria.

You had your fun, now it’s our turn. Did you forget who let the demons in last time? I am of the first of the Fireblooded, demons are as much of the natural cycle, of our dark psyche, as any spirit. I did say you should have kept up with your history lessons. These lands have grown glutted and fat upon peace, stagnated by these meaningless diplomatic ties. No longer. Their dark armies have united, and march with us together. There’s no backing down now, there can be no compromises, and there will be no peace. Don’t bore me to death before I die of old age. No more talking it out, no more letters to be ignored. Rinn was my heart and soul, my mercy and patience, she was the best chance you had. And she’s dead.


You fucked up Finley Ghede. 

A series of statements by the warlords in assent to the matter appear to be listed steadily afterwards. Why did Theria reuse newspaper so much. Did they not have enough paper…

Dragonlord Sythaeryn Vartuul

You make these demands while much of Theria's army and the Alliance's forces act as a wedge between the forces of Barsburg and Esshar, while we spill blood and sons and daughters die young to keep some semblance of peace in this fractured nation. This was never an easy campaign, but now it's become so difficult... Surrounded by foreign forces to the north while our supposed allies turn on us from the south.


I'll make this brief: These demands remind me of similar requests our dear Alexander Petrakis made to Theria so long ago. Do I need to repeat what became of that? Should I go down the list of the many knights that met fire and brimstone? Do you want another city to burn to the ground?

Because it will not be our kingdom that is set aflame, Teraphim. No man or woman that threatens a true dragon should expect to live. No army has managed to tame the mountain Tarian.

Once upon a time, when the only thing between your jugular and the edge of my blade was your silver skin, you screamed that if I let you let live you'd hunt me until my final moments, Finley. Come, then, if you're going to be so brave and foolish to tell Theria how to govern itself. Or realize what you're up against and stand down.

Marzius Volgin, the Second Clown Prince

It's time we fucking kill every single noble and wannabe-noble asshole in this entire goddamn continent. I have been against the Nysean fuckers for a while now, and I know very well they're the kind that dwells inside their city because they're afraid. Because they know that every single time they leave this continent, their lives are going to get a smidge more miserable.


Remember one thing, Nyseans. Every single death, every single nightmare you have- It is caused by your king willfully saying your lives as a whole is worth less than his. That if he must use you as cannon fodder? He will. We all know he will- He did it once, and he'll do it again, and escape to the next city after that, and then the next, and the next, and the next...


And if some dagger-eared apologetic noble-minded fucker decides that their mouth is best suited for kissing an egocentric's king ass, and wants to get in the way because they feel guilty for killing an entire city without even saying so much as a public apology?


We'll know what burns first. A city covered in snow and protected by dragons...


Or a bunch of trees huddled up together.


The Underlady has her eyes on you. You will know fear.

Thalis Avitus, the Second Thunderlord

I’ll be honest, I ain’t ever been one for the king. There’s something about being broke in an alleyway that changes your perspective on things… You dance about with the Knights in the Order, finding out you don’t get paid for risking your life, and then the moment your life is hanging by a thread? The King abandons you. He looked right at me and walked away despite the years I spent serving Osrona.


So come on up Nysea. I don’t mind showing you the boot that kicked Del’s head into the ground. Hel, you’re free to join them under it. Myllenoris can come too - I ain’t got beef with the lot of you spiritual folk, but this is MY home. I refuse to lose it again to the grubby hands of the Teraphim and sure as FUCK won’t be losing it to the blue bloods.

Valero Robin Task, the Second Black Knight 

So! You're asking for Theria's statement, is that right Finn? Well, I got a real simple answer for you, but we can get to that in a moment. It's best to savor these sorts of moments. The last time I was within your city, I nearly lost my life. Don't think I've forgotten, or forgiven the bitch who ordered my death.


Yet, that's not where your transgressions end. Funny ain't it? First you try to take away my very life, now you come for Theria's freedom? It ain't going to fucking happen. I won't allow you to perform another fucking massacre. How quickly people seem to forget about how you ordered the death of innocent women, and children...


And you dare act like you have the moral high ground.


I've postponed my answer for long enough, so here it is.


Go fuck yourself. You won't even have the chance to reach the mountains. Your city, and your vale will be set ablaze. Myllenoris will fall, and Moonfall will rise once more. Enjoy your lives while you still have them. Oh, and if any of those self righteous pricks from Nysea come to your aid, we'll slaughter 'em just like you.


You do not fuck with Theria.

There messages differed in words, but not intent. The three warlords stand ready with the dragonlords, Theria and the dark horde have declared war on Nysea and Myllenoris.


:Flyers announce that demons and slimes are now welcome within Theria. Nyseans and Myllenorrans are open season.
:New Osrona and Alabastre are considered neutral parties until otherwise noted out of respect for King Basil and Queen Mars and nostalgia.


Pictured, stylized aspiring Dragonlord Redwood leading Therian soldiers on the front lines.

(War dates tba)