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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 27, 2015 7:32:18 GMT -5
Dustin: 166/145 Arthur: 132 Danner: 127
Dead: 76
The armies roll up the dead. The battle lays til nightfall but as the sun sets the pyres burn. The slaughter is great but necessary and the scent is beyond description.
North: 5100
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Post by Lord Lyonel Vikary on Aug 27, 2015 15:58:28 GMT -5
Arthur stood next to Lord Dustin and Danner Frey watching the dead burn his nose and mouth covered by a piece of cloth to cut out the stench.
"What now my lord? We are victorious here, but there must be other bands of undead roaming the north. Perhaps at Winterfell."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 27, 2015 16:59:36 GMT -5
"Aye, we march north until we hit the damn Wall and kill anything that should be dead that we see," he said. "Then we join the rest of the army at the Wall."
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Post by Lord Lyonel Vikary on Aug 27, 2015 20:37:07 GMT -5
Arthur reasoned that the best method of protecting his homeland was to take the war to the undead in the north, evne with them reportedly in the Iron Islands.
"North it is." replied Arthur. "I'll inform my men."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 28, 2015 6:56:32 GMT -5
The troops move out and after a few weeks are at the ruins of Winterfell. A few hundred people have come back, but the place looks like it was hit by a bomb. The walls are burned and scarred bland curiously melted-looking in places.
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