Sun Jan 09, 2005 12:36 pm
Now it is time for some roleplay to celebrate my win!
King Jacob walked into the grand hall on Planet New London, amid the cheers of the Bretonians. His guard accompined him into the hall. The Bretonian Navy had won great victories, at a minimum loss. The survivors from the fleets were in the front, dressed up in formal military attire for the great day of victory.
"Countrymen, the day is won! Agianst unstoppable odds, our men destroyed the enemy fleets in a brilliant manuever. While our ships were lost, their lives were preserved, and our enemies were crushed! And now, for the dead, a few words:
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valient never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Such is the price of victory, and we paid it, but not so dearly as our enemies, who gather round far larger funeral pyres, to bury their own.
And as a final word of praise for these warriors, living and dead, who saved our great nation, I say:
O God of battles, steel my soldier's hearts,
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them.
That, is the tale of these brave men, who fought terrible odds, and gave us victory.
King Jacob walked into the grand hall on Planet New London, amid the cheers of the Bretonians. His guard accompined him into the hall. The Bretonian Navy had won great victories, at a minimum loss. The survivors from the fleets were in the front, dressed up in formal military attire for the great day of victory.
"Countrymen, the day is won! Agianst unstoppable odds, our men destroyed the enemy fleets in a brilliant manuever. While our ships were lost, their lives were preserved, and our enemies were crushed! And now, for the dead, a few words:
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valient never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Such is the price of victory, and we paid it, but not so dearly as our enemies, who gather round far larger funeral pyres, to bury their own.
And as a final word of praise for these warriors, living and dead, who saved our great nation, I say:
O God of battles, steel my soldier's hearts,
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them.
That, is the tale of these brave men, who fought terrible odds, and gave us victory.
heehee