✠ Imperial Decree on Fools ✠

Imporium

Imporium

Stinky Spanish
[!] A missive is posted throughout the Empire, with one copy being sent to Al-Khadir. [!]


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IMPERIAL DECREE
Moonday 9, Newdawn, 1554


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To the People of the Empire,

With the recent victory over the forces of the void at the Battle of the Rotten Sea, we announce the formal termination of our temporary alliance with the Sultanate of Anjyarr. The agreement forged between our nations was established with the intent of mutual cooperation, ensuring a unified front against the dark forces that threatened our land.

However, it is with great disappointment that we must also acknowledge the Sultanate's failure to fulfill their commitments within this alliance. Despite a carefully devised plan and mutual understanding, the forces of Anjyarr chose to deviate in the midst of battle, disregarding their agreed-upon responsibilities. This reckless change cost us dearly; countless lives were lost on our side due to their disorganization and lack of regard for our shared strategy. Given this unacceptable breach of trust, the Empire had no choice but to call a retreat in order to preserve the lives of our remaining soldiers.

Thus, the alliance concludes here, as the Empire cannot continue to stand with a Sultanate too foolish to understand the gravity of their own ineptitude and too shameless to honor their commitments. The Empire shall stand unbowed, stronger and wiser, but we will never again stoop to such humiliating partnerships with those unworthy of our respect.

May this stand as a warning to all who would ally with our Empire only to defy our trust.


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By the authority of the Kaiser Diederick-Gobel von Lichtenfelts,​

Signed and Stamped,
Wilhelm II von Lichtenfelts,
Krönfürst des Hadrianisher Reiches,
Herzog der Krönlanden,
Markgraff von Brandenhafen,
Kaiserliche Erzsteward.

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bangs fist on table

THAT WAS MY WIN, GIVE IT BACK!!
 
A female Cultist of Mortius would read through this pamphlet in the Al-Jabrid tavern. She snatched it from the Konigstein notice board earlier. "What.. This ist fucking outrageous.. Ich witnessed ze Anjyarri first hand as zhey fought.. Ze empire ich serve ist ein dissapointment.. Zhey are ze one that fled!" She pinned the pamphlet to the Al-Jabrid tavern wall with a written message under it.

"Hadriana has disappointed me ein too many times.. Ich am sorry if meine presence here makes anyone uncomfortable, especially after zhis news. But do nicht fear.. Even if I speak Attian und wear ze uniform that represents Mortius, an Alder god. Meine loyalties are with Mortius Nicht with ze empire. If du's wish to arrest me or expel me out of Anjyarri territories.. Ich will understand and ich will nicht resist."
-Reyna Havenbloom, Watchmaster & Loyal servant of Mortius
 
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Gobbleglorp's eye scans the letter, a loud laugh escaping his throat."Ah, man... We saved der asses, and dis is how ya treat us? Sure, I didn't like da alliance to begin with, but at least be honest about yer inability to fight. Mighty Empire, my left nut."
 
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[!] Saffron eyes dumbly stared at the pamphlet, flicking over the whole lotta of... yeah. Cadieux was literate, very much so, but she couldn't help but feel like whatever she was reading had been written by individuals who either weren't at sea when the whole battle had gone down or were delusional. The whole thing seemed to have been pulled out of someone's arse on a whim's notice. Golly, the Imperial Fleet had fled first! They'd struggled with a single boat— the Anjyarri could have lured it to Cerils if the Hadrians had just stopped dragging their feet through the water. Dancing in little damn circles on their boats as they sailed off, while her damn boat stared at the serpent straight in the face...

"Is this the same battle we fought the other day?" She muttered, turning the paper upside down to see if it'd make more sense.
Nope. It still didn't line up with anything she'd seen and experienced that day. So, what were they flailing around about?
"Huh???"

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

menmapsy_
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"Well this wasn't what I signed up for."
[MAIN] Esme Cadieux | ALIVE |​
 
Palmira approached the newest notice, upon reading it, her hands curling into fists, breaking into a mix of Anjyarri and Notre Viox swears "Ces mesquins... Jeygeza ati Muna!!" she huffs, "'Unacceptable breach of trust' mon cul! How can one be so petty to break off the treaty so quickly after a victory!?" she huffed, storming off to the nearest tavern for a drink.
 
Richard Vianden, Markgraf of Veronia smiles as he reads the missive "Guards close all gates towards Al-Jabrid. The alliance is over." As soon as the order was given the clanking of cogs could be heard throughout Ceril's Keep as the three portcullises towards Al-Jabrid began to be closed.
 
OOooooOO a new notice in the tavern? How strange- I'm sure this has nothing to do with...
"Ye gotta be fuckin kiddin me. They do not get to call dis a victory. They fled with thar tails undar thar legs at the first SIGHT of danger. Lives lost.. me fucking ass. Do they not realize dem fleeing cost us more lives as well? Or are they dat fuckin tunnel visioned in thar self righteous reasons? How fuckin pathetic. It was a single ship. One. Single. Ship. And they could not even handle that." Recognizing the name underneath the message written underneath she smiled, and crossed out the words arrest or expel, quickly jolting down the message underneath.

"All will forever be welcome within these lands. Race, religion, or otherwise."
-Cuandi Jawlhart, Captain of the Ram's Head
ElectronicGuitar said:
A female Cultist of Mortius would read through this pamphlet in the Al-Jabrid tavern. She snatched it from the Konigstein notice board earlier. "What.. This ist fucking outrageous.. Ich witnessed ze Anjyarri first hand as zhey fought.. Ze empire ich serve ist ein dissapointment.. Zhey are ze one that fled!" She pinned the pamphlet to the Al-Jabrid tavern wall with a written message under it.

"Hadriana has disappointed me ein too many times.. Ich am sorry if meine presence here makes anyone uncomfortable, especially after zhis news. But do nicht fear.. Even if I speak Attian und wear ze uniform that represents Mortius, an Alder god. Meine loyalties are with Mortius Nicht with ze empire. If du's wish to arrest me or expel me out of Anjyarri territories.. Ich will understand and ich will nicht resist."
-Reyna Havenbloom, Watchmaster & Loyal servant of Mortius
Click to expand...
 
The Sultan eventually got his hands on the notice firsthand. Reading it, Asif, broke into a hysterical laugh. A laugh that anyone who stood by the notice could hear loud and well.

"The fucking audacity of these lowly cowards. They ran when they didn't even lure the enemy to begin with. Close any and all access to them. Ana will not break bread for the weak minded and the ignorant. This was not a victory for them. This was Our victory. The other nations will know the truth."

Asif would go ahead to bring orders to have Al-Jabrid's gates closed. For now, his nation will celebrate. Though concern hit behind the porcelain mask of confidence he wore strong.
 
With a cigar perched between his fingers, Aloysius scanned the decree, his gaze cool and detached. The faint plume of smoke curled around him, lending an air of calm defiance to his unflinching expression. Each line he read seemed to pass without stirring so much as a flicker of emotion, his face as composed and steady as stone. The ember of the cigar glowed softly, reflecting a quiet resilience.
 
A mares trot started to slow on beaten roads until it's rider was met with a closed gate... It was only when she retreated herself back into Königstein that she read over the news, her hands plucking a missive off Hadriana's notice boards.

Behind a purple hood and snowy hair did her eyes scan and scan. Two, three, four times she read, until her hands started to crush the missive into a worthless ball of scrap. A wordless thought escaped her, lost in the wind for no one to hear.

May Alder guide these sweet fools.

A mare sped to the northwest edges of Hadriana, her next missive practically writing itself in her mind. She'd need more terns.
 
Virgil rose to go see what the commotion outside was about, enjoying a simple evening in the Anjyarri sun with a fruity drink in hand- Though not as pleasant as he'd wish being unable to rest his back properly against anything. Though once he got to the board and read the missive he forgot about his injured back all too quickly. He was left needing to hold a hand against the board to keep himself upright as he broke into a hearty laugh. "It's like a child saying they don't want to be your friend anymore after you got a better toy than him for your birthday. Who would've thought some imaginary stolen valor would cause the fall of an entire alliance." He sauntered off to go get himself another drink from Os' bar, though had to give an 'Ack' and an 'Oof' every time his shirt brushed against his back, tip-toeing to prevent further harm.
 
"What does it matter if the plan was broken, plans often are" Minna holds the missive before tossing it to the side letting it fall to the ground. She did not like how things happened, she did not like they ran at the first sign of danger even if for her own sake and her child's she should've been advocating for fleeing. What does Hadriana stand for if a voidal threat costs too much that we allow it to kill others innocent or not. It was cowardly and against our own beliefs.
"There goes mein hope of sharing information of mein works with the Anjyarr, ich have to learn everything meinself and take extra time to do so" She rolls her eyes walking off to head back home. Her hope of a peaceful resolution, gone. Her hopes of advancing medical knowledge by sharing with other nations, gone. Her hopes of simply sharing another drink with the Anjyarr peoples, gone. But what was a lowborn to do in a world run by royals and nobles. Nothing she could do could truly help or hinder what the lofty nobles and royals wish to do. She loved her country, but her love for her country would not override her fear of seeing people hurt or killed over fickle ideals.
 
It wasn't often she lingered on the words of the incompetent, the droning of their words nothing more but a weak attempt at inflating an ego that could so easily be pierced with a sharp tongue. And yet, sometimes, just sometimes, that most incredulous and hilarious nonsense could be made out of the baseless sputtering. And it was in those moments alone, she lingered. Os sat in the Keep of Al-Jabrid, nestled on the giant chair settled in the center of her small meeting hall. Idly she scratched the head of one of the parrots that called the simple chair it's perch, in her other hand was a copy of one of the imperial's funny little missives. Again and again, she read it over; and each time, she couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle. Eventually she let the letter go, it's light paper fluttering to the ground and resting on the colorful floors of her hall. "Burn your bridges, mighty Hadriana... I hope your false self righteousness can feed the starvation you'll isolate yourselves on." She stood from her seat, her boot crunching against the paper as she casually strolled away from the chair, leaving the missive forgotten and for someone else to dispose of. As she left the hall she picked up a stack of papers, the ink dried and papers decorated as always with great care. "Perhaps honesty can cast a light on the shadows of your incessantly loud voices." She smiled softly to herself, leaving the keep to spread the golden truth.
 
Konrad watches the letter burn, a bitter smile creeping onto his lips as he reflects on the Empire’s actions. He mutters to himself, his tone dripping with mockery, "Ah, the Hadrian Empire, so eager to point fingers and assign blame while abandoning their allies. Pathetic." He straightens, an air of self-satisfaction settling over him. "I left for a reason. Perhaps it's for the best that I'm no longer part of this farce. They will continue to stumble in their pitiful displays of leadership while I carve my own path." With a deep breath, he turns away from the fire, confidence brimming as he strides out, knowing he will no longer be part of their shame.​
 
Waves crashed against Jabrid’s dunes walls, and Denevir perched atop them, watching. A light hum escaped his lips as he crouched in a foetal position, hands clasped tightly around his knees. His gaze was fixed on Ceril’s Keep, thoughts circulating in his mind. He imagined a multitude of scenarios: how many spells it would take him to bring down the fortress, or how many fewer Atticus might need to do the same. And if they were to combine their powers—how many seconds would it take to level the place?


Yet these musings were but minor details in the grand scheme of things. After all, he didn’t wish for war or even conflict. But the way events had unfolded made it seem he had little choice in the matter.


Beside him, a notice rested, pinned down by a heavy pen to keep it from being swept away by the Anjyarri wind. Occasionally, he glanced at it, chuckling softly as he finally read it through. With a flick of his finger, water seeped from his skin, lapping up onto the parchment until it dissolved. “What a mess,” he muttered, eyes once more fixed on Ceril’s Keep. “I’d almost thought they’d changed.”


He slumped back, letting his back press against the wall he’d come to think of as his sanctuary. A deep sigh escaped him, followed by a barely intelligible mumble. "Well, maybe it could at least be fun, right?”
 
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