The Trety on Gloriouse War aginst the corruptid Whora of Babylonia Here begynneth a tale of great perill. Aginst vast nombre of Babylonians, Arethanien Warrlords invaidid in thre armees. There were certeyne evydences that the corruptid Babylonian envoys giveth us a parfitly good reason to tear their worrisomm serpentain nests asounder as soon as the nearest casus belli emergeth oute of the shadows of the Darkest Easte. The wickid Babylonian behaviour was oute of proporciouns of any sein Arethanian, and could not go unpunisht. There was litel to no interest in so-calleth mediacioun, as their words was not worth a Yenarii, not even worth the feces from our Elephants a most potent fertilizer and not worth merely uttering the worde. I aperceyve wel by thyn abilite to lerne from Samurai Honor and our praud military histori, or ellys you can simply bugger off, as you do not recognize true greatness unknowe to eny mortal man in this regioun, as I suppose. Somme of the terrible events of hem ben to harde to thy tendir age of ten to twelveish yeer to conceyve. This tretis wol I shewe the under full light reules and nekkid wordes in Arethanian, for Babylonian ne canst thou yit but small, my litel sone. But natheles suffise to the these trewe conclusions in Arethanian as wel as sufficith to these noble clerkes Spanich these same conclusions in Spanich; and to Inca in Incish, and to Maya in Mayhem, and to the Viking folk in Berserkish; whiche Viking folk had hem first out of othere dyverse langages, and writen hem in her owne tunge, that is to seyn, in Viking. And God woot that in alle these langages and in many moo han these conclusions ben suffisantly lerned and taught, and yit by diverse reules; right as diverse pathes leden diverse folk the righte way to Babylon. Now wol I preie mekely every discret persone that redith or herith this litel tretys to have my rude endityng for excusid, and my superfluite of wordes, for two causes. The first cause is for that curious endityng and hard sentence is ful hevy at onys for such a child to lerne. And the secunde cause is this, that sothly me semith better to writen unto a child twyes a god sentence, than he forgete it onys. And preie God save the king, that is lord of this langage, and alle that him feith berith and obeieth, everich in his degre, the more and the lasse. But considre wel that I ne usurpe not to have founden this werk of my labour or of myn engyn. I n'am but a lewd compilator of the labour of olde Samurai, and have it translatid in myn Arethanian oonly for thy doctrine. And with this swerd shal I sleen envie. The Warr on Durr Khuzzur The very name Durr Khuzzur in itself do not giveth mochel inspiration to trust, does it? This ghastlie name lends itself of being of dark serpentain origin, with theire beliefes in a swirling void of darkish and whiteish feces from birds, namely guano, as their core religious symbol. Because Durr Khuzzur had some wine, they thought themselves better than us. Well, now the wine is in our bellies, their mens blood in their streets and our seeds well plantid in Durrian women! From their darkest corner, they could only utter their superflucious praiers, before our gallant Samurai lobbid their heads off with a gentlemans precision, before our Elephant feet gaveth their corpses our morbide footprints of total victory, before our Elephant trunks whackid them good, reallee good, like flies on our solemn back.Before our horsed archers let their volleys of arrows form a dark rain of utter death on their corruptid, yet penetritid heads. Before our stalwart spearmen trust their pikes into their insolent and vain templars of questionable origin. Before our archers sent a hailstorm of fiery arrows over their ramparts, even turning their mud-huts into a terrible inferno man shall not forget. Before our Trebuchets and catapults tore down their walls, their towers, their gates and their pride and honor. Before our own new knights, from where gallantry came, trust their longe lances through their puny bodies. The Warr on Nippar Litel Nippar was a terrible oasis in the Blastoid Desert. The people there was lewd, engagid in bodily closiness with serpentain creatures in locations I do not daresay. Litel Nippar had a marble quarry, which we would need anyways, but except for that Quarry, we simply could not understand why the treacherous Babylonians would build a city in such a godforsaken spot. Maybe to spite us, maybe to dishonor Blastoid or maybe because these Babylonians were so foul, that they were living as outcasts from Babylon proper. We almost razed the city, were it not for the marble, which we need for more nekkid statues to please our sore eyes. From their hottest corner, they could only utter their superflucious praiers, before our gallant Samurai lobbid their heads off with a gentlemans precision, before our Elephant feet gaveth their corpses our morbide footprints of total victory, before our Elephant trunks whackid them good, reallee good, like flies on our solemn back.Before our horsed archers let their volleys of arrows form a dark rain of utter death on their corruptid, yet penetritid heads. Before our stalwart spearmen trust their pikes into their insolent and vain templars of questionable origin. Before our archers sent a hailstorm of fiery arrows over their ramparts, even turning their mud-huts into a terrible inferno man shall not forget. Before our Trebuchets and catapults tore down their walls, their towers, their gates and their pride and honor. Before our own new knights, from where gallantry came, trust their longe lances through their puny bodies. The Warr on Sippar Litel Sippar was a wart on the cheek on Pretty Venice, our beautiful lady of the East, a terrible wart and not a sweet pimple at all. Allegedly, they used a spurious and fakeish faith, ""Taoism", as an assumed moral shield for their wicked ways, their very symbol suggesting copulation of angel and devil and the mutual injection of the very seeds of life. Such a corruptid way could not go unpunished, so we stole their so-called workers, lazy buggers of infernal origins that were only good for filling the moats around corruptid Sippar. We began to cut down all forest around Sippar to help the siege, for siege towers, for firewood, for spears and arrows and for wooden horses to train the litel children in mountid combat and finally we used the cutting of wood as a training excercise for our many men. After the siege, there was litel forest left, but even less of corruptid Sippar, which was now a smoldering ruin in which many perverted corpses of corruptid priests rightfully burnt to please the nostrils of our many inhaling Gods. Warcrime somesay? Too early for that, and we would be dead and buried, even celebrated, before some treacherous lawcrafters develop such a fickle, immoral and impotent law, that one day would ensue to ruin the livelihood of fighting men and bring women, beggars and cowards on an undeservid pedestal. Not to forget to mention the Greateste General, Gustavus Adolphus, that came out of the ruins a borne hero, having taken and razid Sippar, that Gods Armpit of serpentain vermin and ghastly worship of questionable gods that are reminiscient of wrapped guano from two birds. Our greatest Gustavus, that against overwhelming odds and at great risk conquered Sippar, and made a lasting example of it for eternity! The Warr on Babylon The Whora of Babylon was the northern metropolis of horror. We reallee did not want to go to this cold abomination of man, but the greedy harbormasters wantid this port for their misterious ways, so we could only comply as the faithful servants of Arethanien we were. Rape, pillage and plunder, as well as the crabs was also a most welcome, yet required bonus to motivate our men weary of battle. King Cyc whispered in the background we should stop, as our time was up, but we really had to get to Babylon, as people expected. What if we came home withaut harlots, gold, crabs and Babylonian heads on pikes, would our wives leave us, would our children condemn us, would our dear King Cyc think we were weak and fallible men? In the long run, we had to get the head of Lincoln, the usurper, the slaver, the corrupter, the fornicator, the vandalizer, the man without honor and the darnest impostor of King Cyc. He had to go, and we helped him well on his way, as he was sunk into the sea of crabs, wearing a manacle made of foreskin from our biggest elephant. Rich in plunder, great in honor, with bloodied arms from inconsequential and rather funny slaughter, with our slinky bullocks emptied into the wombs of more and less willing Babylonian maidens and a fume of burnt urban landscapes we felt happy with our plight, and were treated as the true heroes we were by our dear countrymen deep south. I would in particular like to mention that the crabs in Babylonia smell and taste real good, and the residual claws can even be used for small entertaining games with Babylonian maidens, that seem to offer no objection at all to such a daring proposition.