Automagfreek
16-12-2008, 20:32
For days Dreadfire had shut himself into his chambers, plotting and constructing plans in secret with only his most trusted council as company. Many things were about to change, and indeed much had already changed in the months since the great campaign against Mediterranica was launched. The war thus far enjoyed unexpected success very early on with numerous nations within the region flocking to the banner of Gholgoth, a move that most Freekish commanders did not anticipate. It would only be a matter of time now before the meager resistance within Mediterranica was crushed and a Gothic presense cemented, and those from within who would help achieve this would be rewarded greatly for their services.
However things were also changing from within the Gothic brotherhood itself. Word had reached Damien that Sonya Volsung, the whore Empress from Crimmond had severed the bonds of brotherhood and withdrawn from Gholgoth with the intention of carving out a new destiny for Crimmond. Naturally this did not sit well with Damien, who cursed Volsung violently...for he knew that he should have dispatched her from the moment their paths crossed. It was a situation that Hartman was reluctant to handle, and thus the Supreme Warlord would personally pen a response to the recent events that had unfolded. His message was brief...and laced with venom.
~From the desk of Lord Damien the Destroyer, Supreme Warlord of the New Gothic Empire of Automagfreek~
Sonya, you disappoint me.
When first I laid eyes upon you I felt a great hatred building inside me, for your first words to me were nothing more than pure disrespect and contempt. Were we not present at a regional gathering I would not have hesitated to strike your head from your shoulders, and now I see that perhaps I made a mistake in staying my hand. You have made a great error in turning your back on a brotherhood forged in blood by those who came before you, and you dishonor Crimmond's sacrifice when first it strayed from Gholgoth... only to come back into the fold.
Your people shall always remain friends of the Freeks and of myself, but you....you shall receive nothing but scorn from me. Crimmond has been lead down a dark and dangerous path by your hand, and after past betrayals I am unsure the other Gothic Lords will be so welcoming as they have in the past. Automagfreek shall not come to Crimmond's aid, shall not answer Crimmond's call, shall not flock to Crimmond's side so long as you remain at the helm. I will not be satisfied until your severed head sits upon my desk, and only then shall the honor of your ancient nation be restored.
Shall you seek to steal from Gholgoth its trusted brothers and Lords for your own selfish ambitions there will be irreversible damage done to the relations of our two countries. Crimmond has tried in the past to make its own way in this world, and in the past it has failed because the world has fallen into order. No longer do numerous alliances from every background struggle for power, no longer does chaos envelop our planet, and no longer do any remain who can topple almighty Gholgoth. Through ages of brutality and bloodshed we have claimed our place at the top of the totem pole, and there can be no other great power so long as we exist.
Your efforts are in vain Sonya, and I forsee an era of unrest within Crimmond. There will be great discontent with you and your actions. Your name will be cursed by future generations and your legacy will be one of ruin. I have forseen this, and by the Winds it is what shall come to pass. No longer shall the fortress of Gholgoth provide Crimmond refuge against the wolves that roam the lands, and we shall not come to your aid when they strike. You have chosen this fate, and now you must suffer it.
http://img352.imageshack.us/img352/1818/signson6.png
With that out of the way, Damien retreated from his prior work and stole himself away to his private gardens where he had spent many a restless hour. The once lush vegetation that lined the stone paths were now crumpled and dry from the winter chill that had slipped down from the mountains, and the waters from the bubbling fountain at the center of the gardens were frozen. Sitting down on top of the snow dusted lip of the fountain, he looked upward towards the two statues before him; one of himself forged from stainless steel, and another of his long lost brother Bastien chiseled from pure bronze. His eyes were always drawn to Bastien's towering form, and he could never remove from his mind the ghastly image of his slain friend.
These are troubling times my brother, the waters are no longer still but bubble and churn with unrest. If only you remained here to share council with me...
After nearly an hour in the bitter cold Dreadfire returned to his chamber and lit a roaring fire to warm his chilled body. With a bear skin blanket draped over his shoulders he continued to shuffle through the various papers he had been examining earlier, papers that contained the blueprints for an expanded Gothic civilization across the globe. It was an ambitious effort the likes of which had not been attempted before in the modern age, and it could very well mean that a new age was about to be forged. Copies would soon be sent to each of the regional Lords for individual review, and if an agreement was reached then it would give birth to an expanded Gothic Empire....an Empire whos name was spoken long ago in ancient prophecy... Vorgoth.
It was a bold new idea that had not been attempted before by any within Gholgoth; expanding the alliance itself beyond the shores of the region to those abroad. There already looked to be several potential candidates for membership, mainly from Mediterranica where much conquesting and dealmaking had already taken place. It would be a good place to birth the new Empire and spread it worldwide, and those who flocked to its banner would reap the benefits of being apart of the powerful Gothic machine but still maintaining their individual cultural identities. The Vetalians, the Grestonians, Uirians, and others in Mediterranica who supported Gholgoth's invasion would all be the first to receive invites to join this new movement once a full resolution was adopted by the Lords.
The plan would need careful construction by the Lords if it was to succeed, and after sending out copies of the initial proposal to all of his brethren, the Warlord retreated to his bed and slumbered. Though his body was now at rest, his mind continued to race as more and more ideas about the future of the new Empire emerged, but time would only tell if the Lords would embrace or reject such a radical proposal.
However things were also changing from within the Gothic brotherhood itself. Word had reached Damien that Sonya Volsung, the whore Empress from Crimmond had severed the bonds of brotherhood and withdrawn from Gholgoth with the intention of carving out a new destiny for Crimmond. Naturally this did not sit well with Damien, who cursed Volsung violently...for he knew that he should have dispatched her from the moment their paths crossed. It was a situation that Hartman was reluctant to handle, and thus the Supreme Warlord would personally pen a response to the recent events that had unfolded. His message was brief...and laced with venom.
~From the desk of Lord Damien the Destroyer, Supreme Warlord of the New Gothic Empire of Automagfreek~
Sonya, you disappoint me.
When first I laid eyes upon you I felt a great hatred building inside me, for your first words to me were nothing more than pure disrespect and contempt. Were we not present at a regional gathering I would not have hesitated to strike your head from your shoulders, and now I see that perhaps I made a mistake in staying my hand. You have made a great error in turning your back on a brotherhood forged in blood by those who came before you, and you dishonor Crimmond's sacrifice when first it strayed from Gholgoth... only to come back into the fold.
Your people shall always remain friends of the Freeks and of myself, but you....you shall receive nothing but scorn from me. Crimmond has been lead down a dark and dangerous path by your hand, and after past betrayals I am unsure the other Gothic Lords will be so welcoming as they have in the past. Automagfreek shall not come to Crimmond's aid, shall not answer Crimmond's call, shall not flock to Crimmond's side so long as you remain at the helm. I will not be satisfied until your severed head sits upon my desk, and only then shall the honor of your ancient nation be restored.
Shall you seek to steal from Gholgoth its trusted brothers and Lords for your own selfish ambitions there will be irreversible damage done to the relations of our two countries. Crimmond has tried in the past to make its own way in this world, and in the past it has failed because the world has fallen into order. No longer do numerous alliances from every background struggle for power, no longer does chaos envelop our planet, and no longer do any remain who can topple almighty Gholgoth. Through ages of brutality and bloodshed we have claimed our place at the top of the totem pole, and there can be no other great power so long as we exist.
Your efforts are in vain Sonya, and I forsee an era of unrest within Crimmond. There will be great discontent with you and your actions. Your name will be cursed by future generations and your legacy will be one of ruin. I have forseen this, and by the Winds it is what shall come to pass. No longer shall the fortress of Gholgoth provide Crimmond refuge against the wolves that roam the lands, and we shall not come to your aid when they strike. You have chosen this fate, and now you must suffer it.
http://img352.imageshack.us/img352/1818/signson6.png
With that out of the way, Damien retreated from his prior work and stole himself away to his private gardens where he had spent many a restless hour. The once lush vegetation that lined the stone paths were now crumpled and dry from the winter chill that had slipped down from the mountains, and the waters from the bubbling fountain at the center of the gardens were frozen. Sitting down on top of the snow dusted lip of the fountain, he looked upward towards the two statues before him; one of himself forged from stainless steel, and another of his long lost brother Bastien chiseled from pure bronze. His eyes were always drawn to Bastien's towering form, and he could never remove from his mind the ghastly image of his slain friend.
These are troubling times my brother, the waters are no longer still but bubble and churn with unrest. If only you remained here to share council with me...
After nearly an hour in the bitter cold Dreadfire returned to his chamber and lit a roaring fire to warm his chilled body. With a bear skin blanket draped over his shoulders he continued to shuffle through the various papers he had been examining earlier, papers that contained the blueprints for an expanded Gothic civilization across the globe. It was an ambitious effort the likes of which had not been attempted before in the modern age, and it could very well mean that a new age was about to be forged. Copies would soon be sent to each of the regional Lords for individual review, and if an agreement was reached then it would give birth to an expanded Gothic Empire....an Empire whos name was spoken long ago in ancient prophecy... Vorgoth.
It was a bold new idea that had not been attempted before by any within Gholgoth; expanding the alliance itself beyond the shores of the region to those abroad. There already looked to be several potential candidates for membership, mainly from Mediterranica where much conquesting and dealmaking had already taken place. It would be a good place to birth the new Empire and spread it worldwide, and those who flocked to its banner would reap the benefits of being apart of the powerful Gothic machine but still maintaining their individual cultural identities. The Vetalians, the Grestonians, Uirians, and others in Mediterranica who supported Gholgoth's invasion would all be the first to receive invites to join this new movement once a full resolution was adopted by the Lords.
The plan would need careful construction by the Lords if it was to succeed, and after sending out copies of the initial proposal to all of his brethren, the Warlord retreated to his bed and slumbered. Though his body was now at rest, his mind continued to race as more and more ideas about the future of the new Empire emerged, but time would only tell if the Lords would embrace or reject such a radical proposal.