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A Reclamation of the Hanged
To the filth-covered leeches who see fit to take our homes, to mark our churches in their disgusting tongue and splatter innocent blood on our streets,
Good riddance. And don't come back.
You can claim our home as yours in the written word, but it means nothing if you don't back it with action. And I ask you, Donald and his sickening kin: what have you done to back it? Graffitied a Church and attacked its monk? Angered everyone who calls themselves Unionist on one fell swoop? The people of Hangroad have yet to bend the knee, and the powers that reside within it have raided you to no end. You try desperately to fight us, yet in turn your men are bloodied and torn. And now you remain, cowering in your tunnels yet again, terrified of the mere prospect of charging upon the residents of the Hangman district.
Go back to the darkness, bloody fiends. Slither back in your pitiful holes and never step into the light, 'lest you find yourself blistering in the sun. Don't dare to take a step in our district again, or I guarantee to you that we will be waiting, with grey fire and lime lightning. Hangroad is "neutral" ground. For good.
And don't worry about food; I'm sure you can nibble on the rats skittering about your cistern.
The Vicar,
On behalf of the citizens of the Hangman District.
@Lord_Immortal @CRASHIR (there's probably more people to tag but im already spamming everything so itll be fine)