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Really? I have to say I find this aar to be a better read than mine, although it was a lot of fun writing it.
oLooks like Poland is kicking butt, although until that large Teutonic army is wiped out there's still some risk.
Polish Court, the Golden Circle Regents
May, 1453
“As you all know,” started Urban Cyryl with a touch of omniscience in his voice, “the assault against Prussia has gone exceedingly well. The Teutonic’s are now in full retreat, and their armies are hiding out in the country sides while every major city has fallen under siege. Marienverder, Memel, Danzig, Konigsberg, and Heilsberg are surrounded. They are without morale and honour…”
“Yes!” interrupted the Senior Regent. They had taken to merely calling him El Regento because of his Spanish origins, as he had a long name that nobody could properly pronounce. “We understand, get on with the important parts!”
“Such an outburst,” Jarek said.
“Nonsense, I’m growing old here! We have things to do! Get to the gist of it, old boy!”
Urban eyed him down angrily and continued with his lecturing.
“So far, this is what our maps are displaying. They do not show the Livonian front.” He lay out visuals upon the meeting table:
“Are you telling me,” started El Regento, “that the war has already been won?”
“Essentially. But we must not underestimate the Livonian Knight Brothers; it is said that the city of Riga is preparing to surrender to their siege, and the good Archbishop Stodwescher’s attempts have been in vain, for they have not managed to capture any Livonian provinces.”
“Does this include the Lithuanians? What do we pay Aras Dapkunaite for?”
“Aras Dapkunaite can only do so much when we only provide so much for them. He is deep within Wendenskie as we speak, attempting to fend off hordes of the Livonian troops until relief can arrive.”
“Then send the other Lithuanian General! The one whose name I cannot recall.”
Urban chuckled at the irony. “Then the concentration of our Lithuanian forces in the east is too strong, and the western front becomes destabilisied, and there is the potential that Memel could be relieved by Livonians.”
“Better than to lose a Senior Commander, I can tell you that.” El Regento shuffled about in his seat. He was a bit pot-bellied, so it was rather repulsive.
“No, good noble, sacrifices must be made for the country.”
“Nonsense! The country needs to work together; needs to save each other.”
“What would you know about the country?” Jarek protested, standing up to face the Regent. “You are bloody Spanish! You can’t even speak Polish properly without that ridiculous accent!”
“Don’t you stand up at me,” the Regent warned. “This isn’t how you’re going to win any wars.”
“We’ve already won the war, you blundering moron, it is now just a case of solidifying our hold over enemy lands.”
“Hush, child. I am a Senior Regent. I could have you expelled from these chambers, and from the Golden Circle, should I so choose.”
“Hold fast,” Urban said. “That is where you are wrong, Andalucian. The laws of the Golden Circle agree that a majority of Senior Regents must agree on a decision before it is implemented.”
“This is nonsense,” he growled in defeat. “This is why the Golden Circle is utterly useless in these times that the King is away. All these implementations are put in place to strip us of all our powers. We can’t do anything with this bureaucracy-choked nonsense.” The Regent’s nostrils flared up as he spoke.
“What do you propose then, my good Andalucian?”
“Don’t butter-coat me, equal.” The Regent drew his long-sword. It was flimsy, but still strong, and made of Toledan steel. He pointed to Mazuri, and then slowly traced a lineinto Ostpreussen. “Send the word that these men are to break off. Tell Kazimierz that we have overviewed the situation, and that the best course of action is to split the Grand Army into a Relief force. We can title it Support, if you so wish.”
“What will the purpose of this be?” Jarek asked.
“While you lot have all been doing absolutely nothing, my scouts are reporting that the Teutonics are massing forces in the hills. It will only be so long before they overrun the Mercenary Division at Konigsberg.”
“That is nonsense,” Jarek said. “The Mercenaries are highly trained. They can easily repulse them, just like the rest of our armies have done.”
“No.” El Regento slapped Jarek on the cheek lightly with the flat of his sword. “Listen boy. You are not listening. I ask you to listen, and I expect you to listen.” He pointed to each of the battle-sites; the Battle for Danzig, the Ambush at Mazuri, the Memel Chevauchees, and the Defence of Ostpreussen. “All of these locations, all of these battle-sites have one thing in common. We all won, and we had superior numbers every time. Do not try to deny the fact that this has had something to do with our victory. I’d vest that it had everything to do with our victory, and so I would suggest you send message to split the Grand Army, and to move it deeper into Teutonic territory, and closer to the Livonian front, so that we can support the troops better. We don’t need a mass congregation of men in one province on the outskirts where we can easily hire Mercenaries or conscript Peasants to reinforce our men just over the border.”
“A long-winded soliloquy,” Urban said. “But you speak some truth after all.”
“Were you expecting otherwise?”
“Yes, I was, you crazy Andalucian.”
“For your information, I am from Toledo. Toledo and Anadalucia refer to different areas of Spain, you ignorant man.”
“Nobody is concerned with Spain, El Regento,” Jarek said mockingly. Ever word dripped with sarcasm. “Once we’ve conquered all of Europe, and we’re knocking on Spain’s back-door, then we can worry about your people. Until then, we just have some funny Spanish-man serving in our court.”
Urban stood between the two to avoid any conflicts.
“I think it is best that we go to dinner now. Wake up the rest of the Regents, if they are not already. I’m sure cutting their afternoon naps early will help prepare them for when the King gets back.”
Polish Camp, Marienverder
Tent of King Kazimierz IV,
28th May
“I would like to know the meaning of this intrusion.”
“I am a messenger, and I have come from the Golden Circle.”
Kazimierz inspected the man. “Yes, that much is apparent. You bear their seal, so your authenticity has been verified. What business does the Golden Circle want?”
“They are saying that you should…”
“They are saying I should what now?”
The page re-worded the letter. “They are suggesting that the Grand Army break-off into two sub-divisions, and that the other sub-division mobilises to reinforce Captain Johann and his men immediately.”
“Why is this? Surely, there must be some reason behind it?”
“In order to spread our troops more evenly among the provinces, and because… well…”
“Out with it, child.”
“There have been… rumours.”
“Rumours?”
“Yes. Rumours – that von Erlichschausen has been sighted near Konigsberg, and that his men are massing in secret.”
“Erlichschausen is a fool, and I will be the first to claim his head. Not Johann.”
“Then now is your chance, my King. You should leave someone in charge of the Grand Army, and take a company of your best men North to help relieve any conflicts Captain Johann has fallen into.”
“Nothing major,” Kazimierz stated, dismissing the page with his hand. “Get out of my tent now. I wish to urinate.”
“My King! Surely even you cannot be ignorant to the dangers posed by neglecting the Northern Front!”
“What in the dawn of Azazel are you talking about?”
“The Livonians are so close to Memel and Konigsberg; they can easily swoop in across the Lithuanian border, raid our main camps, and then swoop back out before we can retaliate. We need solid, permanent, maintainable defences.”
“Are you trying to convince me otherwise?”
“What?”
“I understand that we need a good defence if we are to starve out the enemy! But we can’t do that just by running all willy-nilly around the country, mimicking and mocking our enemies.”
“It is not a matter of mocking our enemies nature.”
“If we split, the small, degenerate pockets of resistance can easily overwhelm us.”
“They are nothing; they are all focused in the North, around Konigsberg, where they are going to attack Captain Johann, and where they are going to rout his men.”
“Hold fast.” The King raised a finger in protest. “Just before, you stated these were rumours.”
“Uh,” the page struggled, “We have significant… evidence, to reinforce these rumours…. but they are not totally verifiable!”
“So this is just more lies formulated by my own circle of nobles to detract me from what is important?”
“No….”
“Yes, I believe it is, page. Begone.”
“Very well, sir. Just no that the longer you put off reinforcing your own men, the faster they will die, and the worse this war will end for you.” The page stormed out, leaving the King there red-faced, and in contemplation.
Somewhere in the Konigsberg Foothills
29th May, 1454
“Is there any news on the whereabouts of Martin I?”
“No my lord. Intelligence is limited.”
“Yes,” sighed Erlichschausen. “Thank you, squire. I have gathered that from the fact that we are hiding in these foothills.”
“Sorry my lord, I only meant it as a jest.”
“Your next jest will be your last, at this rate.”
“Is that a threat my lord? You do NOT want to see me when I’ve been threatened.”
“Yes,” sighed Erlichschausen. “Thank you, squire. We could have done without the counter-threats.”
“Sorry my lord, I only meant it as a jest.”
“Stop you,” the Grandmaster said. “How many able-men have we amassed in the past three weeks?”
“Less than the enemy has.”
“That’s not what I asked, squire.”
“Well, milord…”
“…”
“…”
“Yes?”
“I’m still thinking?”
“Thinking about what, squire?”
“How many men we’ve amassed.”
“I don’t want your personal opinion on it, I want a number.” The Squire sat there, clutching the beard at his chin in deep thought. The Grandmaster sighed, and rubbed his temples painfully. “I miss the comforts of home.”
“Me too, milord. I miss my sister.”
“You what?”
“I miss my sister.”
Erlichschausen was quiet.
“Yeah, we lived together. It’s a lonely life for siblings without parents.”
Erlichschausen was quiet.
“She’s so young too. Nobody wants to take her in.”
“Squire, I demand to know how many men are in our camp.”
“I’ll grab the paper-work.” The Squire rifled through a bunch of parchment in the chest laying in the far-corner of the tent. He placed some in a pile, re-sorted the parchment it again, tied it up, and flung it back into the chest. “We should have roughly 4000 men, if I’m not misreading this. Also, this is of note. This is what we predict the Polish forces to be at this time:”
“You are literate, squire?”
“Yes, milord. Von Ampringen taught me at a young age. He was a noble man.”
“And a gracious fighter… I only wonder how his head was taken without anyones knowledge. We hadn’t even charged yet, and already he was dead…”
“Perhaps it was a ruse, milord?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” the squire started, “In my study of the histories of the world, there have been many ruses where the enemy has been tricked. They can demoralise an army.”
“I see. That is intriguing.”
“Yes. Entire battles have been won thanks to these so-called ruses.”
Erlichschausen stroked his beard. “You have given me an idea, squire. What is your name?”
“Adawulf Nolan.”
“Adawulf Nolan? That is an odd name.”
“it’s a funny story, actually,” the squire began. “Me father was an English-men, me mother German….”
“I said it was odd. I did not ask for its origins. You serve me now, and you will be one of my acting advisors. Is that made clear?”
“Really? I take Martin’s position?”
“No,” Erlichschausen stated. “You are Martin’s fill-in. We are going to re-take Konigsberg, though it may cost us our life.”
“WE are going to re-take Konigsberg? I don’t want to be apart of this…”
“Nor I, but the Poles invaded our lands, raped our women, burnt our crops, all over some imagined altercation. We don’t have an imagined altercation. We have a casus-belli for their heads.”
“Very good, milord. You’ll make solid rhetoric yet.”
Erlichschausen looked at the squire. “Yes, write this down. We are going to defeat the Konigsberg menace.”
demokratickid: Aye, the war is well. Likewise, Mr. Demokratickid
Enewald: Nooo! The Teutons will die!
Zimfan: Nah, it's just different styles, really. This one is more lengthy, so people will automatically assume you put more effort into it.
Enewald: Nooo! The Teutons will die!
Zimfan: Nah, it's just different styles, really. This one is more lengthy, so people will automatically assume you put more effort into it.
The Second Battle of Ostpreussen
8th June, 1454
For a week, the Teutonic Resistance in the Ostpreussen foothills have been amassing troops, arms and rations. The occasional messenger has slipped through to the city of Konigsberg, where peasants are arming themselves for a battle with their Finnish oppressors. One of the pages who returned successfully even commented that a young boy was willing to step in for his father, which only outlines how noble our cause is. Perhaps the Finns are suspecting something; they have doubled the amount of patrols they have at any one time, and are inspecting the roads more than over, forcing us to stick to the forest. While this gives us greater concealment, it is a difficult trek through the woods, and cholera outbreaks in recent months have made the men paranoid at every sign of disease. It is the 8th of June today; on the eve of our recapturing of Konigsberg. We are to meet the Finnish forces at Gollau, a well-forested, hilly location just on the outskirts of the Ostpreussen suburbs. We outnumber the Finns, our resistance numbering 4000 men, with the peasants supposedly being able to amass roughly 1500 soldiers to reinforce us once the battle is underway. They are fully aware of the plot; once the Finns are drawn away from their main camp, they will sally out from the city gates and initiate a full-on charge towards their commander. We don’t know much about him, but his name is Captain Johann, and he is a tyrant.
Adawulf Nolan has been at it, making speeches in my absence due to sickness and disease. It is very difficult to maintain your strength in times of war, and I cannot let the plague get in the way at the moment. Hell can wait; I’ve yet to settle the score with the Poles. Later on in the day, we marched away leaving a few men in charge of our camps high up in the foothills. We chanced upon some meractors. They could not speak German; instead, they claimed to be on the way to Lithuania. We removed their beard from their head, and then their head from their shoulders for their insolence. Nolan had the idea of throwing their severed heads at the enemy as a taunt and insult, to demoralise the enemy and provoke a laugh from our bruised men who still remain from Danzig at the dripping irony. And to be honest, I cared not for morals at this point, so I allowed him to do as he wished. Nolan and I rode ahead, with a few guards, and we scouted out the paths. Once our armies had come into contact, three of the enemy rode forward to parlay, while Nolan and I, along with one of our most favoured bodyguards each went to meet their terms. Nolan informed me that he had brought the head, and that he was about to insult the Finns gravely.
~~~
“Erlichschausen? Isn’t he the Grandmatser?”
“Yes, Gunther. Now is our opportunity to crush all forms of Teutonic resistance. Erlichschausen is a fairly competent man, and without him, they will falter.”
“I hope you are correct. Svein and I want to go home as soon as this war is over.”
“As do I,” Johann said back to him. “But we lack the funds, and aren’t going to get paid until we finish our job.”
“Does our job entail fighting armies that have almost half as many more men than us? This is nonsense.”
“You would rather flee?” Johann turned around in his saddle and leant in to hear Gunther’s response.
“Of course not. Not to Germans, anyway.”
“You hate Germans?”
“No, but that’s who we’re facing, so we might as well act stoic in the face of bitter resistance.”
“Fine by me,” Svein shrugged, looking away and the leaving the two to their bickering.
“Likewise,” said Johann, stopping the conversation there and then. The trio slowed to a trot once the enemy commander had reached them, and they began to circle the Germans.
“Hail,” Johann stated. “What terms of surrender have you come to discuss?”
“How droll,” Adawulf replied. “Are you always so amusing? A job in the amphitheatre would do you.”
“I could say the same of you, little one. Look out for your head on the battlefield.”
“Look out for your own kindred’s head outside of it.” He held up a leather pouch, and removed from it a severed head that had caught an expression of ghastly horror.
“What is this?” Svein asked, hand on his hilt.
“You are too callous,” began the Grandmaster. Johann had never heard him speak before, or even seen him, but his voice was deep and cackled with all the masculine burl of a lion. “And you are oppressors of the free people. By God, the Teutonic Order will dispose of your Polish allies, and anyone who stands with them, mercenaries included. Stand down your arms and you will be spared. Our terms are that you disband, and leave Konigsberg.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Johann said. “We lack the funds required to get home, and unless you’re willing to pay, we’re fighting for our money.”
“We could gladly pay.”
“You’ll pay in blood in a second.” Gunther had circled to right beside Adawulf, and the Germans looked directly to their left to meet the upstart Finn who just threatened them. “Cut out the nonsense, and be realistic for once.”
“Who are you?” Erlichschausen asked. “I am Gunther of Ulvila. Who are you?”
“Grandmaster Ludwig von Erlich-”
“Entirely irrelevant. Now, we’ll be off to plot your death, if you don’t mind.” Gunther nodded at Svein and Johann, both who started back with an indignant look on their face. Adawulf motioned to the head.
“Have you anything to say to your dead comrade before we piss on his ashes?” Gunther gave him a defiant look, and spat on the head, before turning to rejoin the army.
~~~
“So what is our plan?”
“Were we supposed to have one?” Svein chuckled to himself, but Gunther looked on in stern disapproval.
“Now is not the time for jesting.”
“My apologies, lord seirous.” Gunther frowned yet again, and turned to Johann. He began to scribble some quick drawings and writings on paper messily.
“This is the battle arrangement, milord. We have noticed increasing movement within the castle walls, so it is not foolish to suggest the enemy may be plotting a double pincer attack. We need to counter this, but assert ourselves at Gollau. How can this be done?”
“There is very thick wood. Perhaps we should lure the enemy inside and ambush them.”
“Svein, my dearest Svein, did you not read on Danzig? We can’t repeat our tactics. The enemy will be familiar with such manoeuvring, and they will counter easily and effectively. We need an original idea.”
“Do we have many options?” Johann interrupted. “The enemy outnumber us by a fair few amount, and they have the majority control over Gollau, not to mention they can just flee within Konigsberg, and come out whenever they want to. It seems they are able to control the tide of this struggle.”
“Then, are we to rely on superior manoeuvring and commanding?”
“It may seem so, Gunther.”
“In that case, I recommend spreading our Pikemen three-rows deep between the wooded thickets that overlook Gollau. We will post archers in the trees, while at the same time, Svein will make the best of the fortress.”
“What do you mean?”
“He will stay within the fortress, but post archers along the southern ramparts. When the enemy engages our troops in melee combat, you should be able to hit them.”
“Will we not hit our own troops?”
“Not if you fire properly. Shoot over them. If you miss, re-adjust your aim. Simple as that. We don’t have any room for cock-ups, so make them count. Johann and I will hold the front-line. If the enemy sallies out, looking for trouble, reposition your troops to deal with them accordingly.”
“I agree with your plan, Gunther. We need to pray that the messengers have reached Kazimierz, and that he is sending support in the form of a few-thousand men. We could truly do with August Olesnicki, about now, if he is sparable.”
“Highly doubtful; they don’t know Erlichschausen is up here. If they did, Kazimierz himself would be charging to Konigsberg immediately.”
“Perhaps he is. We don’t know. We can only wait and hope for the best.
8th June, 1454
For a week, the Teutonic Resistance in the Ostpreussen foothills have been amassing troops, arms and rations. The occasional messenger has slipped through to the city of Konigsberg, where peasants are arming themselves for a battle with their Finnish oppressors. One of the pages who returned successfully even commented that a young boy was willing to step in for his father, which only outlines how noble our cause is. Perhaps the Finns are suspecting something; they have doubled the amount of patrols they have at any one time, and are inspecting the roads more than over, forcing us to stick to the forest. While this gives us greater concealment, it is a difficult trek through the woods, and cholera outbreaks in recent months have made the men paranoid at every sign of disease. It is the 8th of June today; on the eve of our recapturing of Konigsberg. We are to meet the Finnish forces at Gollau, a well-forested, hilly location just on the outskirts of the Ostpreussen suburbs. We outnumber the Finns, our resistance numbering 4000 men, with the peasants supposedly being able to amass roughly 1500 soldiers to reinforce us once the battle is underway. They are fully aware of the plot; once the Finns are drawn away from their main camp, they will sally out from the city gates and initiate a full-on charge towards their commander. We don’t know much about him, but his name is Captain Johann, and he is a tyrant.
Adawulf Nolan has been at it, making speeches in my absence due to sickness and disease. It is very difficult to maintain your strength in times of war, and I cannot let the plague get in the way at the moment. Hell can wait; I’ve yet to settle the score with the Poles. Later on in the day, we marched away leaving a few men in charge of our camps high up in the foothills. We chanced upon some meractors. They could not speak German; instead, they claimed to be on the way to Lithuania. We removed their beard from their head, and then their head from their shoulders for their insolence. Nolan had the idea of throwing their severed heads at the enemy as a taunt and insult, to demoralise the enemy and provoke a laugh from our bruised men who still remain from Danzig at the dripping irony. And to be honest, I cared not for morals at this point, so I allowed him to do as he wished. Nolan and I rode ahead, with a few guards, and we scouted out the paths. Once our armies had come into contact, three of the enemy rode forward to parlay, while Nolan and I, along with one of our most favoured bodyguards each went to meet their terms. Nolan informed me that he had brought the head, and that he was about to insult the Finns gravely.
~~~
“Erlichschausen? Isn’t he the Grandmatser?”
“Yes, Gunther. Now is our opportunity to crush all forms of Teutonic resistance. Erlichschausen is a fairly competent man, and without him, they will falter.”
“I hope you are correct. Svein and I want to go home as soon as this war is over.”
“As do I,” Johann said back to him. “But we lack the funds, and aren’t going to get paid until we finish our job.”
“Does our job entail fighting armies that have almost half as many more men than us? This is nonsense.”
“You would rather flee?” Johann turned around in his saddle and leant in to hear Gunther’s response.
“Of course not. Not to Germans, anyway.”
“You hate Germans?”
“No, but that’s who we’re facing, so we might as well act stoic in the face of bitter resistance.”
“Fine by me,” Svein shrugged, looking away and the leaving the two to their bickering.
“Likewise,” said Johann, stopping the conversation there and then. The trio slowed to a trot once the enemy commander had reached them, and they began to circle the Germans.
“Hail,” Johann stated. “What terms of surrender have you come to discuss?”
“How droll,” Adawulf replied. “Are you always so amusing? A job in the amphitheatre would do you.”
“I could say the same of you, little one. Look out for your head on the battlefield.”
“Look out for your own kindred’s head outside of it.” He held up a leather pouch, and removed from it a severed head that had caught an expression of ghastly horror.
“What is this?” Svein asked, hand on his hilt.
“You are too callous,” began the Grandmaster. Johann had never heard him speak before, or even seen him, but his voice was deep and cackled with all the masculine burl of a lion. “And you are oppressors of the free people. By God, the Teutonic Order will dispose of your Polish allies, and anyone who stands with them, mercenaries included. Stand down your arms and you will be spared. Our terms are that you disband, and leave Konigsberg.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Johann said. “We lack the funds required to get home, and unless you’re willing to pay, we’re fighting for our money.”
“We could gladly pay.”
“You’ll pay in blood in a second.” Gunther had circled to right beside Adawulf, and the Germans looked directly to their left to meet the upstart Finn who just threatened them. “Cut out the nonsense, and be realistic for once.”
“Who are you?” Erlichschausen asked. “I am Gunther of Ulvila. Who are you?”
“Grandmaster Ludwig von Erlich-”
“Entirely irrelevant. Now, we’ll be off to plot your death, if you don’t mind.” Gunther nodded at Svein and Johann, both who started back with an indignant look on their face. Adawulf motioned to the head.
“Have you anything to say to your dead comrade before we piss on his ashes?” Gunther gave him a defiant look, and spat on the head, before turning to rejoin the army.
~~~
“So what is our plan?”
“Were we supposed to have one?” Svein chuckled to himself, but Gunther looked on in stern disapproval.
“Now is not the time for jesting.”
“My apologies, lord seirous.” Gunther frowned yet again, and turned to Johann. He began to scribble some quick drawings and writings on paper messily.
“This is the battle arrangement, milord. We have noticed increasing movement within the castle walls, so it is not foolish to suggest the enemy may be plotting a double pincer attack. We need to counter this, but assert ourselves at Gollau. How can this be done?”
“There is very thick wood. Perhaps we should lure the enemy inside and ambush them.”
“Svein, my dearest Svein, did you not read on Danzig? We can’t repeat our tactics. The enemy will be familiar with such manoeuvring, and they will counter easily and effectively. We need an original idea.”
“Do we have many options?” Johann interrupted. “The enemy outnumber us by a fair few amount, and they have the majority control over Gollau, not to mention they can just flee within Konigsberg, and come out whenever they want to. It seems they are able to control the tide of this struggle.”
“Then, are we to rely on superior manoeuvring and commanding?”
“It may seem so, Gunther.”
“In that case, I recommend spreading our Pikemen three-rows deep between the wooded thickets that overlook Gollau. We will post archers in the trees, while at the same time, Svein will make the best of the fortress.”
“What do you mean?”
“He will stay within the fortress, but post archers along the southern ramparts. When the enemy engages our troops in melee combat, you should be able to hit them.”
“Will we not hit our own troops?”
“Not if you fire properly. Shoot over them. If you miss, re-adjust your aim. Simple as that. We don’t have any room for cock-ups, so make them count. Johann and I will hold the front-line. If the enemy sallies out, looking for trouble, reposition your troops to deal with them accordingly.”
“I agree with your plan, Gunther. We need to pray that the messengers have reached Kazimierz, and that he is sending support in the form of a few-thousand men. We could truly do with August Olesnicki, about now, if he is sparable.”
“Highly doubtful; they don’t know Erlichschausen is up here. If they did, Kazimierz himself would be charging to Konigsberg immediately.”
“Perhaps he is. We don’t know. We can only wait and hope for the best.
"Crush you?"
With what, snow and pine forests? :rofl:
Just kidding...
Good work, sir! Can't wait for more!
With what, snow and pine forests? :rofl:
Just kidding...
Good work, sir! Can't wait for more!
Two weeks and two pages, and you're only a year into the game? This may take a while.
Seriously, great thread. I'm loving the narrative.
Seriously, great thread. I'm loving the narrative.
Parsley Magnet: Well, it's likely this will stop as soon as school resumes, so it likely won't last THAAT long >.>