Warre
Establishing Nation
- Joined
- May 13, 2010
- Messages
- 1,384
- Nick
- Warr
The world is changing. There's thunder-cracks and gales; there's sunbursts and empty black skies. There's a thousand contradictions, cries for help and shouts of threats if one gets involved. The world is changing every day and there's a never ending war going on throughout it. There's no escape, and so we must make the choice: Stand in the mists of blood which what, weapon in hand, shouting for our enemy's death, or cower in a world of shadows and firecrackers, hoping like children that our enemies will leave, that they will simply be spirited away and the world set aright.
Forget government; forget pieces of paper talking about laws and trying to tell you, a living breathing person; what's right or wrong. This is about steel and blood; about bullets and brain matter. This is about those who have the will to take what is theirs and to do what must be done. This is about the savages painted by time in the blood of their enemies. This is about you and every other human being; if pushed far enough.
But right now; this is about consolidation, no matter if it's official or not. It's about the banners of Ochre and Azul flying over every land they rightly should fly over, reminding the people of who they are [regardless of government]. If the officials won't do it, we'll do it for them. This is our story, a story of men who bleed orange and blue. This is the story of a nation coming to fruition. Of the stagnancy of the past being brushed away like so much dirt and dried blood.
The banners of Ochre and Azul will be unfurled in defiance; against king and crown, against imperium and insanity. There is no choice; victory or death. Infinity or a moment. We are the Cu na Daonnachta, the wolf-hounds of humanity. And we are out for blood. Our howls will be heard like whispers in the wind, like the Bann Sidhe calling out our enemies deaths; they will be heard in between steely footsteps and rifle-fire. The time for silence is over.
The battle was met at dusk; when the enemy least expected it. For whom in these modern days joins battle at dusk? At the time of the moon's raising and the sun's setting? This was the time of firecrackers and shadows; and as the ochre and woad painted militants dumped out of their trucks, semi-automatic rifles and more brought to bear, hidden by shadows and by their dark camouflage and their mostly camouflage faces. Slowly, squads of the militants went about the town maps had called Nau Nurnberg since the capture of the Western Kingdoms; in the shadows of alleyways and streetlights. The clock struck 21:00, and that appointed number was called by the ringing of the town's church bell. Bullets were sprayed, doors kicked in, cars set aflame with molotov cocktails and houses set aflame with flamethrowers and grenades.
The Germeanis had to go; this was the mandate of the Cu na Daonnachta. For with the Germans still here, no proper gods fearing celts could ever properly call the Western Kingdoms their home; as their ancestors and cousins had in times passed. It was bloody work, made of machine gun fire and machetes; of flamethrowers and frantic fighting. But the clock struck 01:34. It was over, this place was awash with the azul chill of night, with the ochre flame of the remnants of battles, of houses and cars still aflame.
It had been a massacre, and a message. There would be blood; and their would be calls for these criminals and mass murders to be found and brought to justice. If nationialism or the way of right would prevail; these were the questions more profound in this all.
For we are at the dusk of man; a time of shadows and firecrackers.
Forget government
But right now; this is about consolidation, no matter if it's official or not. It's about the banners of Ochre and Azul flying over every land they rightly should fly over, reminding the people of who they are [regardless of government]. If the officials won't do it, we'll do it for them. This is our story, a story of men who bleed orange and blue. This is the story of a nation coming to fruition. Of the stagnancy of the past being brushed away like so much dirt and dried blood.
The banners of Ochre and Azul will be unfurled in defiance; against king and crown, against imperium and insanity. There is no choice; victory or death. Infinity or a moment. We are the Cu na Daonnachta, the wolf-hounds of humanity. And we are out for blood. Our howls will be heard like whispers in the wind, like the Bann Sidhe calling out our enemies deaths; they will be heard in between steely footsteps and rifle-fire. The time for silence is over.
The battle was met at dusk; when the enemy least expected it. For whom in these modern days joins battle at dusk? At the time of the moon's raising and the sun's setting? This was the time of firecrackers and shadows; and as the ochre and woad painted militants dumped out of their trucks, semi-automatic rifles and more brought to bear, hidden by shadows and by their dark camouflage and their mostly camouflage faces. Slowly, squads of the militants went about the town maps had called Nau Nurnberg since the capture of the Western Kingdoms; in the shadows of alleyways and streetlights. The clock struck 21:00, and that appointed number was called by the ringing of the town's church bell. Bullets were sprayed, doors kicked in, cars set aflame with molotov cocktails and houses set aflame with flamethrowers and grenades.
The Germeanis had to go; this was the mandate of the Cu na Daonnachta. For with the Germans still here, no proper gods fearing celts could ever properly call the Western Kingdoms their home; as their ancestors and cousins had in times passed. It was bloody work, made of machine gun fire and machetes; of flamethrowers and frantic fighting. But the clock struck 01:34. It was over, this place was awash with the azul chill of night, with the ochre flame of the remnants of battles, of houses and cars still aflame.
It had been a massacre, and a message. There would be blood; and their would be calls for these criminals and mass murders to be found and brought to justice. If nationialism or the way of right would prevail; these were the questions more profound in this all.
For we are at the dusk of man; a time of shadows and firecrackers.