The Pelt of the Lioness is Ripe for the Taking

[Deleted]

Travelling through cracks and divots, through dirt and muck, beneath window frames and under drafty doors, between men and women of various ilk, floating through noble houses, or approaching unseen in the night, cavorting, or growing, like a gas...three poems spread their talons on the Winds of Time. Perhaps a multitude of factors coalesce...

Robberies in Aringill increase...murmurings, murmurings in the hidden places...

While the Children of the Light seek to hunt down this poet, or poets...and the manner of their spreading, and no doubt do also the Queensguard, no solid evidence can yet be found of who is behind this treachery...as if something 'fell' covers all tracks.


[[All written by hearmeroar]]

The puppet.

Strings dark as the darkest of nights,
from her back springs.
Like a puppet , they are pulled
all the way back to the ivory tower.
For generations and generations,
this bastion of abominations
has pulled the strings of the Lion's leash.

Perhaps a different approach is needed?
Instead of ribbons of red,
ribbons of white should be donned.
Together the white ribbons can make a flag,
and under that flag, poverty will diminish.

"Morgase The Horrible"

Morgase the horrible,
Morgase, the cruel.
Like a whip from a slaver's hand
she rends flesh from bone
of those unfortunate souls
that she calls her subjects.

Never has conditions been worse
than under her rule.
Gloriously selfish and cruel,
she never lets her whip stop
until the nation runs red with blood
and the people's coffers are empty.

The Shadow on the throne

A dark room, dim lights
In the corner stands an old throne,
Ancient and heavy, it stands there
Corrupted by the shadow seated ontop

Seeping down into every crack,
it blends into the woodwork itself,
down through the legs, and down into
the very foundation of life it fades.

What can uproot such darkness
corrupting our foundations,
our very lives with it's filth.

Rise, fight this monster,
this corrupt lion on the throne,
the pelt of the lioness is ripe.
Ripe for the taking.

[Powerthirstjunky]

~A small group as men in black coats take up residence at an inn in Aringill, word makes its way around the town that they have put up a small reward for any information on the thefts as they actively seek clues and information themselfs~

[Deleted]

~The group would note that Aringill, as a city state, seems to be reasonably safe...for now. It would appear that the thefts are being done from the Andor side of things, more properly, before they arrive down the river in Aringill~

[Powerthirstjunky]

~with the use of gateways the black coated men would start scouting the river and trade routes for clues or information~

[Deleted]

//Anything more specific for me to go on? Else hit me up when you're next in-game with Luke