As expected, long winded RP thingy. Please do not read as it may cause your eyes to bleed.
"Dirk! DIRK!!" screamed Bryggan, grasping the bar table to keep himself upright.
"What's up," asked Dirk.
"How many of them rotten dumb ass jerk hole Acre Lords dropped James and come joined me?"
"So far, none."
"Damn their eyes. It don't matter. I got me a guy who's accepted my claimant quest. With his forces and ours together, I will get that bloody chadz-forsaken throne."
Dirk rolled his eyes. "I'm sort of wondering about the religious aspect. The Knights of Acre are quite a pious lot, whereas you have a reputation of being.. well.. sort of not so pious."
"By bloody chadz' balls, I am damned pious!" Bryggan roared, "if them Armagon-forsaken assholes don't see that, well bugger them all!" Bryggan rubbed his temples in deep thought, then downed the rest of his tankard of cheap ale. "Screw them all," he mumbled, "screw them and the horses they rode on, which they probably screwed as well. I'm gonna get a pope's blessing on this, and that proves this fucking enterprise is a fucking holy fucking one."
"Um, Bravo is back," Dirk answered, "and he still seems to be loyal to Acre."
(The next three paragraphs have been censored due to graphic language, but they are basically Bryggan venting his anger. In the fourth paragraph, he calms down a little so we'll allow it)
"Fucking cheese-wad fucking fuckity-fucks! If that whore-mongering whore-master son of a whore Bravo won't bless our campaign, I'll make our own pope. Albus seems religious. He's always praying when he plays dice, I'll make him pope. Where is he?"
"He got caught cheating in a dice game and ended up stabbing his opponent, then the three bartender's sons tried grabbing him but he laid them all low. Last I saw him he was carrying one of the barmaids to the upstairs bedroom."
"Ah, well, tell him when he's done he's the new pope of the Holy Calradian Catholic Church of chadz. Now go get your army and besiege Curaw. We take out James' stronghold the rest of Acre will have to bow to us. If they don't, we lay waste to all of the Acre lands, slaying man, woman, child and beast until they accept me as king. Armagon wills it."
"Hmmm," Dirk pondered, "I have the men and the weapons but roster support is sketchy at best in these terrible times. With a bit of bad luck I could lose my entire army."
"No worries," answered Bryggan, "if my loyal soldiers all get slaughtered without a chance to fight back, I'm not concerned. We have allies on the way who can finish the job. As King, I need to protect my people, and I am more than happy to see them all get killed to make it so."
Dirk sighed. His boss was a dumbass, but he did provide a chance at glory. And beer. Lots of beer.
So the thing is, we're moving on Acre. Yeah, our old buddies. Bit of a dickass move, but we never claimed to be polite. Quite frankly, we were running out of factions to fight. We've fought G-Force, Squids, Astralis, Black Company and LCO, plus a few independents and some Euros when we were sent there. So far all the fights have been great, and I'd like to thank my enemies for being so cool about it all.
I was given the impression that people whined and bitched when you fought them, but I haven't seen that yet. The Squids kept trying to talk us into joining them, Black Company really wanted to buy our next contract when we were fighting them (sorry guys, had to halt the merc thing when Goretooth attacked our caravan- hopefully next strat). LCO sent me cheery messages, Astralis remains good friends, and the indies all had a good laugh.
But not as good of laugh as AA. The scoundrels who defeated my 950 men with 150. They themselves were surprised too, and were awfully nice about it in our pms, but I swear, if we get shitty roster support on our upcoming battles, I will no longer be friends with any of you. Yeah, I mean it.
So sign up, either for us or Acre, but preferably us. If these turn out to be shitty battles, I will personally insult each and everyone of you in NA1. And I will make it hurtful.
