Achaean News
And...well, this is mostly you, but the Sylvans too
Written by: Plague of the Whiskery Plague, Kuntar Semshan, The Kilted Menace
Date: Monday, October 16th, 2006
Addressed to: Pumpkin Bee Pimptress Oenone Mendacis, The Lollipop Queen
Oenone. You poor, poor deluded creature. It appears that in your utter
despair for the competition which you yourselves have arranged, you've
taken to spreading lies about the oncoming foes you fear the most.
Not that I can blame you.
A lesser person would have quailed and turned into a whimpering pile of
corned beef by now. But I see the normal measures we employ will not be
enough to subdue your feeble hopes. At least the Spirit Walkers were
graceful in their defeat by a single person. But I guess not everyone
can be expected to be as logical as a bunch of nuts who walk around in
circles for a living.
However, since you bring up the subject of rumors, let's address some of
the ones that float around about your illicit to-doisms.
Your civil duty, as you call it, is being neglected, for it is not
feeble attempts at heinous lies about other houses in the hopes of
making yourself look better. I should know, I've made a part of my fame
based on being the author of Achaea's foremost TRUTHFUL Achaean tabloid.
Perhaps you've heard of it, Armchair Adventures? You've appeared in it a
few times, though only twice by name.
While you're out having your "sexcapades" around Ashtan and any other
city that catches your fancy, what is poor Mendax left with? He comes
home after a long day of pimping and cavorting, and rather than finding
his wife in the kitchen cooking up a good meal, you're off being
promiscuous.
Since you've taken to mocking the supplies that have caused the downfall
of many key structures, including the ruler of the Butts-For-Hats
Brigade, prepare to have your feeble supplies mocked. Supplies that have
hardly succeeded in proper deodorizing throughout the years.
Humping trees and making crude faces out of treebark hardly counts as a
winning costume, and judging by the last bout of flaming flatulance that
took out a third of the forest, you don't believe in water either.
The patron of your house might be the Skylord, but the only thing up in
the air where you're involved is your heads in the clouds.
...I suppose, basically, what I'm trying to say is this.
NANNY NANNY BOO BOO, STICK YOUR HEAD IN DOO DOO!
-Kuntar Kissy Pants
Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Glacian, in the year 433 AF.
And...well, this is mostly you, but the Sylvans too
Written by: Plague of the Whiskery Plague, Kuntar Semshan, The Kilted Menace
Date: Monday, October 16th, 2006
Addressed to: Pumpkin Bee Pimptress Oenone Mendacis, The Lollipop Queen
Oenone. You poor, poor deluded creature. It appears that in your utter
despair for the competition which you yourselves have arranged, you've
taken to spreading lies about the oncoming foes you fear the most.
Not that I can blame you.
A lesser person would have quailed and turned into a whimpering pile of
corned beef by now. But I see the normal measures we employ will not be
enough to subdue your feeble hopes. At least the Spirit Walkers were
graceful in their defeat by a single person. But I guess not everyone
can be expected to be as logical as a bunch of nuts who walk around in
circles for a living.
However, since you bring up the subject of rumors, let's address some of
the ones that float around about your illicit to-doisms.
Your civil duty, as you call it, is being neglected, for it is not
feeble attempts at heinous lies about other houses in the hopes of
making yourself look better. I should know, I've made a part of my fame
based on being the author of Achaea's foremost TRUTHFUL Achaean tabloid.
Perhaps you've heard of it, Armchair Adventures? You've appeared in it a
few times, though only twice by name.
While you're out having your "sexcapades" around Ashtan and any other
city that catches your fancy, what is poor Mendax left with? He comes
home after a long day of pimping and cavorting, and rather than finding
his wife in the kitchen cooking up a good meal, you're off being
promiscuous.
Since you've taken to mocking the supplies that have caused the downfall
of many key structures, including the ruler of the Butts-For-Hats
Brigade, prepare to have your feeble supplies mocked. Supplies that have
hardly succeeded in proper deodorizing throughout the years.
Humping trees and making crude faces out of treebark hardly counts as a
winning costume, and judging by the last bout of flaming flatulance that
took out a third of the forest, you don't believe in water either.
The patron of your house might be the Skylord, but the only thing up in
the air where you're involved is your heads in the clouds.
...I suppose, basically, what I'm trying to say is this.
NANNY NANNY BOO BOO, STICK YOUR HEAD IN DOO DOO!
-Kuntar Kissy Pants
Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Glacian, in the year 433 AF.