Search Results
7/23/2025, 3:42:06 AM
>>6279098
He shoves you violently back with his shield, putting distance between the two of you, and then you hear a horrific sound of metal crashing against metal. The blow from his iron club strikes hard enough to leave a dent in your hellforged plate armor. It knocks you off your feet and sends you tumbling through the line of your revenants until you crash into a tree.
For a moment, there's no pain. All you feel is a little woozy.
And then there it is. Cracked ribs, blood dribbling from your mouth, and a bleariness coming over your eyes as your vision slowly fades to blackened nothingness...
=================
Sup, bitch.
Hurts getting your ass beaten, doesn't it? Welcome to other side of the boot, enjoy the pain and misery!
Oh, and the copious amounts of rape, though this time you'll be on the receiving end for a bit.
But I've got good news.
You're not gonna die here.
Papa Bones has contingencies in place to make sure that his special girl makes it out, because despite fucking up his soul so much that he doesn't get an afterlife, he's a good dad. Be fucking grateful, that's a rarity among your shithole Empire's upper class.
But I've got a question for you: Is that what you want? Do you really want daddy's contingencies to go off, letting you live at the cost of your men and that sweet piece of milk chocolate ass that you're utterly wasting on that harebrained scheme to birth a few demons into the world? Seriously, she might be a cowardly, arrogant little shit, but did you see those fat-
Ahem. Sorry, getting off track.
The question is, is that what you want? Write it off as a freak incident, an unexpected Denizen of K'n-yan coming to fuck up your day like a randy bull that's gotten in with the cows? The stench of that sort of failure tends to cling to your career, bitch. Papa Bones will help get it brushed under the rug, no doubt, but it will be there. Routed and raped on your first command.
Now something tells me that you don't want no pitying looks. No easy posting where the worst thing you gotta deal with is a bunch of drunk commies throwing a few molotovs because they recognize that your shithole of an Empire is in fact a shithole, but are too fucking retarded to recognize that letting a bunch of bureaucrats micromanage the market would almost certainly make it an even bigger shithole.
You've got ambitions, bitch, and I can respect that.
He shoves you violently back with his shield, putting distance between the two of you, and then you hear a horrific sound of metal crashing against metal. The blow from his iron club strikes hard enough to leave a dent in your hellforged plate armor. It knocks you off your feet and sends you tumbling through the line of your revenants until you crash into a tree.
For a moment, there's no pain. All you feel is a little woozy.
And then there it is. Cracked ribs, blood dribbling from your mouth, and a bleariness coming over your eyes as your vision slowly fades to blackened nothingness...
=================
Sup, bitch.
Hurts getting your ass beaten, doesn't it? Welcome to other side of the boot, enjoy the pain and misery!
Oh, and the copious amounts of rape, though this time you'll be on the receiving end for a bit.
But I've got good news.
You're not gonna die here.
Papa Bones has contingencies in place to make sure that his special girl makes it out, because despite fucking up his soul so much that he doesn't get an afterlife, he's a good dad. Be fucking grateful, that's a rarity among your shithole Empire's upper class.
But I've got a question for you: Is that what you want? Do you really want daddy's contingencies to go off, letting you live at the cost of your men and that sweet piece of milk chocolate ass that you're utterly wasting on that harebrained scheme to birth a few demons into the world? Seriously, she might be a cowardly, arrogant little shit, but did you see those fat-
Ahem. Sorry, getting off track.
The question is, is that what you want? Write it off as a freak incident, an unexpected Denizen of K'n-yan coming to fuck up your day like a randy bull that's gotten in with the cows? The stench of that sort of failure tends to cling to your career, bitch. Papa Bones will help get it brushed under the rug, no doubt, but it will be there. Routed and raped on your first command.
Now something tells me that you don't want no pitying looks. No easy posting where the worst thing you gotta deal with is a bunch of drunk commies throwing a few molotovs because they recognize that your shithole of an Empire is in fact a shithole, but are too fucking retarded to recognize that letting a bunch of bureaucrats micromanage the market would almost certainly make it an even bigger shithole.
You've got ambitions, bitch, and I can respect that.
Page 1