Monday, June 09, 2014


So it was that three companeros from Las Islas Filipinas --- the Barbado from the Noble and Ever Loyal City of Manila, the Exilio from the Land of Promise, and the Provinciano from a City in Seville --- traveled a great distance for the annual Turnieren where knights and warriors from Lower, Middle, and Upper Earths gathered to bottle aspirations and drop these on the cobblestones of a street called The Convention, only to discover that the parchment containing their credentials was hexed and clobbered to oblivion by hailstones as large as the ego of The Keeper of the Scroll who --- poisoned by the bitterness of its own spite --- has declared war against them --- its own knights and warriors --- and left them with incredible tales of conspiracy and retarded tools of war, which The General in His Labyrinth mercifully picked and handed back to the three companeros from Las Islas Filipinas, and with those fight their battles under the protection of his refuge.

And there are more, them Outcasts of Eburoni, seasoned warriors, accidental Fifth Columnists, turned traitors by the curse of The Keeper of the Scroll, as they can only helplessly watch the Turnieren raged, and watch more as their greatly decimated army heroically rushed into the battle lines, comforted with the pledge that the cherries will taste sweet when they ripe, that the sun will set but will rise again, of the day when their weapons will gleam for the pride and honor and glory of their great country, and the assurance of history that love, truth, and justice will ultimately prevail... 

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