Dothrak's vision was groggy from sleep as he was woken abruptly during the night.
"What's this?" he asked as he was handed two letters, one after the other.
"Sorry my lord, but these couldn't wait."
Is that right? He thought as he unfolded the first.
DECREE OF ESSALONIAN DOMINION
At the first line, he scoffed. Clearly the messenger heard it.
"What does it say, my lord?"
Dothrak thought on how to describe it, before settling on simply reading it aloud.
"Today, the few merciful leaders of our dominion have taken it into their hands to save the people of Essalonia."
"That doesn't sound so-"
"No longer must you worry if you could afford upkeep in your homestead, supply food for your family."
He scanned the letter for any more notable sections.
"For… for everyone will die."
Ominous, he thought.
"Should we surrend-"
"We do not bow to tyrants. Not now, not ever. So we fight."
The messenger considered that, though the look of fear on his face was still apparent.
"Can we beat them? Can we win?"
They were outnumbered, it was true. For the first time in a long while, Dothrak Stormheart had doubt.
"We may not win. But we still have to fight."
"But, why my lord?"
"Because they'll come for us. Nobody has forgotten Hadar, not yet."
The first letter had nothing more to offer him, but bold claims and ominous wording. He thought back to the recent battle against Wyvern- their disorganised formation, and their bodies littered across the fields of Argost.
"Give them some Humorrin steel, then see if they're still yapping." He muttered to himself as he folded the letter and handed it back to the messenger.
"The other letter, my lord."
"Oh. Yes, of course."
It was early. Too early.
He sighed slightly as he unwrapped the second, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk in his chambers. A black eagle, wings outstretched, stared him back in the gloom.
"More of the same?" the messenger asked tentatively.
"Unfortunately. Though this one seems addressed to someone else. The Imperials. Never heard of them."
The letter concerned the "Regalian menace", threatening to "crush" their presence in Essalonia. And if their Howlester alliance remained strong…
Maybe it was addressed to them after all. A war on two fronts was no small feat, he knew. Especially not with Argost's weakened, growing state.
"What would you have me do, my lord?"
Damn them all. They would come for Argost, eventually. No use delaying it.
"Send for our allies. A war is coming."
TL;DR We're not a big fan of the whole "I want claim esalonnnia for mi fraction" trend so uh yeah
No mercy 4 stoogez
"What's this?" he asked as he was handed two letters, one after the other.
"Sorry my lord, but these couldn't wait."
Is that right? He thought as he unfolded the first.
DECREE OF ESSALONIAN DOMINION
At the first line, he scoffed. Clearly the messenger heard it.
"What does it say, my lord?"
Dothrak thought on how to describe it, before settling on simply reading it aloud.
"Today, the few merciful leaders of our dominion have taken it into their hands to save the people of Essalonia."
"That doesn't sound so-"
"No longer must you worry if you could afford upkeep in your homestead, supply food for your family."
He scanned the letter for any more notable sections.
"For… for everyone will die."
Ominous, he thought.
"Should we surrend-"
"We do not bow to tyrants. Not now, not ever. So we fight."
The messenger considered that, though the look of fear on his face was still apparent.
"Can we beat them? Can we win?"
They were outnumbered, it was true. For the first time in a long while, Dothrak Stormheart had doubt.
"We may not win. But we still have to fight."
"But, why my lord?"
"Because they'll come for us. Nobody has forgotten Hadar, not yet."
The first letter had nothing more to offer him, but bold claims and ominous wording. He thought back to the recent battle against Wyvern- their disorganised formation, and their bodies littered across the fields of Argost.
"Give them some Humorrin steel, then see if they're still yapping." He muttered to himself as he folded the letter and handed it back to the messenger.
"The other letter, my lord."
"Oh. Yes, of course."
It was early. Too early.
He sighed slightly as he unwrapped the second, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk in his chambers. A black eagle, wings outstretched, stared him back in the gloom.
"More of the same?" the messenger asked tentatively.
"Unfortunately. Though this one seems addressed to someone else. The Imperials. Never heard of them."
The letter concerned the "Regalian menace", threatening to "crush" their presence in Essalonia. And if their Howlester alliance remained strong…
Maybe it was addressed to them after all. A war on two fronts was no small feat, he knew. Especially not with Argost's weakened, growing state.
"What would you have me do, my lord?"
Damn them all. They would come for Argost, eventually. No use delaying it.
"Send for our allies. A war is coming."
TL;DR We're not a big fan of the whole "I want claim esalonnnia for mi fraction" trend so uh yeah
No mercy 4 stoogez
