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Current are we sure that kneecaps are real or has big ortho gaslit us all into believing in them
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1.5 oz gin, 1.5 oz sweet vermouth, 2 to 4 dashes orange bitters
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dra til helvete
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sometimes i like to talk to birds and pretend they're talking back
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"Oh, hell, late again. It's like they forget I have to walk everywhere."
This is in part because I think it's very funny if Callum has to keep piggybacking off of others to get anywhere super quickly.
I think it's funny if the varying levels of teleportation remain restricted to the more adept mages or to those at the top of society (or just really rich).
Fionn MacKerracher




Fionn shook his head at Tyaethe. "Why not something more masculine, though? Like...oh, how do they say it out west, over in Demet..." He looked down, unfocused eyes gazing at Echaid's mane as his brow furrowed deep in thought. "No, wait, Blodwyn is a girls' name too...ah, Linden, that would work! They have nice white flowers, too!"




Upon witnessing the duke's madness in person, Fionn quickly turned aside from the rest of the group, pulling one of the servants over. "Aye, could you go grab me another baguette and a large pot lid? The sort that's got a handle, not a knob. Need to look right, like." The bewildered servant nodded once, quickly leaving the duke's bedroom. Fionn quickly returned to contemplating the duke himself.

The man was acting madder than a serious suggestion that Tyaethe rename her fully-grown horse would be, but like Sir Aglan had said, it nearly seemed like an act. Like a game being played by a child that didn't understand how humans would actually be as they lost their minds to age, disease, or the like. Still, a man of Thedric's age engaging in such an act was mad in and of itself, so the worry remained fitting.

In order to solve it the quickest and easiest, they'd likely need to hunt down the source of whatever had gone wrong in the duke's head, but asking him normally wasn't likely to result in any useful information...

"S-sir?"

Fionn turned back with a small jolt of surprise. The servant girl had returned quite a bit faster than he'd been expecting...though the manor was smaller than Candaeln, and likely she didn't want to remain in the vicinity any longer than absolutely necessary. He took the offered loaf of bread and lid with a nod, stepping past the rest of the knights with a very clear aim.

Sorry, captain, but this might get something useful.

Right for the mad duke himself.

"Your highness!" he called sharply, coming to a stop a couple feet away from the bed that Thedric stood so proudly upon. "You're getting ahead of yourself! How can we march to war when our forces seem to have scattered to the four winds?" Nobody could ever accuse Fionn of being a good actor with a straight face, although in the face of such a childish play good acting was hardly necessary. His voice wavered slightly, hoping that he could manage to sound distressed for a moment, and not break out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

But, ever the dutiful soldier, he still held his lid-shield smartly at his side, giving a measured—if shaky—salute with his bread-sword to his sworn prince.

"And in your court dress, for the Goddesses' sake! Where's your marching uniform? Has the jester stolen it from you again?"
Fionn MacKerracher




"Why would you name a stallion something like 'Daisy,' Tyaethe?"
ghost sword ghost sword

who needs transient curses when you have a ghost sword (it cuts ghosts)
"Should I be concerned that the last member of Duke Corrin's household ended up in my hometown and you both found her there? I feel like I should be concerned."
Fionn MacKerracher




"I like forests," Fionn was grumbling to himself further back in the line, heedless of Gerard speaking about him just ahead. "But things just keep going wrong in this forest. Losing Rickert, Golden Boars all around Cae Mayl, and now this? The Duke of Brennan goes mad out of nowhere? I don't like it, Echaid." The grey-coated hobby gave a small shake of the head in response, not even bothering to give anything more. As far as Echaid was concerned, a forest was likely the same as any other forest—though he knew that his master was somewhat bothered.

"I mean, really, they named it Sorrow forest," he continued to grumble.

Echaid snorted. "Oh, I know, I know, probably named after somebody with that name, but still. You know what it's like back home, you know how things like to congregate to places with inauspicious names like that. Should we have brought Fiadh? That might have been a good idea."

Echaid whinnied agreeably at that thought; sometimes, Fionn thought his horse liked Fiadh even more than him. "Bastard. You just want to play with her more." Done griping to his horse for the moment, Fionn kicked at Echaid's flanks, riding up to where Rolan, Renar, and Gerard had all convened as the duke's keep loomed. He had to hope for the moment that Renar wouldn't decide to comment on the lack of stirrups, given the efforts that he kept putting in to get Fionn to ride more like the other knights.

"Any ideas on what we're going to be doing here, lads?"
that's just an obvious fact at this point, we know how he works
Hey, now, Callum doesn't know ghost king yet.

His dad probably is against the guy just because all three of the ducal families that the Prossers have been tossing their allegiance between for the last who-knows-how-long were all in agreement on the wizard queen front and Laurent just led the charge in telling him to piss off.

also man why the ghost king gotta be named Lamont, I blame the Campbells for this
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