09-04-2023, 06:14 PM
![[Image: Blood1.png]](https://i.ibb.co/2nCHBTg/Blood1.png)
Broken.
Defeated.
Maimed.
Attacked within his own home by the scourge itself, whose blade of stories wove through his ribs and punctured his innards as any tale of woe.
Despite the rushing medical magi around him, the scattered paperwork of all he had poured his life's work into completing, the Baron of Blood Rose stood firm upon his desk, lips pressed tight, writing to all whom his pen could reach - When that failed, missives on the tongues of man worked just as well. The words he had offered everyone throughout his youth were now bearing fruit, as it had become time to come together against the dark forces; antagonistic and hostile instruments of phobias made manifest, whom believe a weak and lonely island was for anyone with enough Power to grab, if but they hold any want for it. How often had these foul fel creatures imposed their bloody wants and wills onto those weaker than themselves, communities still budding in their attempts on founding their own little worlds, each left bare and broken beneath the heaving chests of Demons and Monsters.
No more.
Skarnfel had heard the warnings - Had scoffed at the very notion of the good people collecting arms as one against them. Dawnstone - Aphros - Fortune - The Enclave - Delphina - The Frontier. Letter after letter would writhe through the air on the fuzzy backs of exceptionally tiny bats, even as orders temporary evacuation of the non-Magi refugees to Aphros would be passed along.
No more hurt - No more sorrow for those who had already lost so much. Even if he had to bleed himself bare - He would stand on an injured frame to defend the legacy of the Batkin.
Objective: Defend his People, and strike a true injury upon the forces of Evil - Gather together the forces of light, to oppose the dark.
Defeated.
Maimed.
Attacked within his own home by the scourge itself, whose blade of stories wove through his ribs and punctured his innards as any tale of woe.
Despite the rushing medical magi around him, the scattered paperwork of all he had poured his life's work into completing, the Baron of Blood Rose stood firm upon his desk, lips pressed tight, writing to all whom his pen could reach - When that failed, missives on the tongues of man worked just as well. The words he had offered everyone throughout his youth were now bearing fruit, as it had become time to come together against the dark forces; antagonistic and hostile instruments of phobias made manifest, whom believe a weak and lonely island was for anyone with enough Power to grab, if but they hold any want for it. How often had these foul fel creatures imposed their bloody wants and wills onto those weaker than themselves, communities still budding in their attempts on founding their own little worlds, each left bare and broken beneath the heaving chests of Demons and Monsters.
No more.
Skarnfel had heard the warnings - Had scoffed at the very notion of the good people collecting arms as one against them. Dawnstone - Aphros - Fortune - The Enclave - Delphina - The Frontier. Letter after letter would writhe through the air on the fuzzy backs of exceptionally tiny bats, even as orders temporary evacuation of the non-Magi refugees to Aphros would be passed along.
No more hurt - No more sorrow for those who had already lost so much. Even if he had to bleed himself bare - He would stand on an injured frame to defend the legacy of the Batkin.
Objective: Defend his People, and strike a true injury upon the forces of Evil - Gather together the forces of light, to oppose the dark.
Discord: Heimdalic Dreams
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![[Image: Sig3.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/Xq1sBHqK/Sig3.png)
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