LittleBoots
The Bloody Banner
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2006
- Messages
- 1,979
From: Hampstead Godwin, Provisional President of the Republic of New Albion
TO: The Free Nations of the World
It is a bitter day in New Albion. As I write this, I sit surrounded by weary men, good Christians all, worn down by the over-polished boot of foreign oppression. Heretics invade our sovereign land and befoul our sacred places, scatter our families to the wind, and, clothing their barbarity in regalia, make fine speeches, citing Holy Verse. Yea, well we know that Satan quotes the Scriptures, and a demon's word may well sound sweet to unguarded ears. I, however, am no king, no man of noble blood, nor heir to throne or title. Little schooled am I in those arts of rhetoric reserved to that caste of lords and princes. I know only that my homeland, unwilling, suffers bloody trespass, groans beneath transgression, cries out for relief, but not at any price.
Bloodied, broken though we've been, we've not yet been beat. Downtrodden as we are, we are not yet defeated. Though the very ground shakes at the host which stands against us, still yet unshaking stand we our ground. We poor farmers and freeman, what our souls may lack in gold and silver, God did repay in steel and iron. We are no weak-willed men, resplendent in our royal chambers, but wary lions, jealous of our rugged pride; for, indeed, we sought out this land, and tamed it, poured out our very blood and in no small measure. This land is indeed my brother, my father, for in my veins run scarce as much Godwin blood as lies in the soil of our sweet Republic, this first birthplace of democratic liberty.
And now vile heretics from a bastard throne make wild claims, first of restoration, then, with their liars' scheme revealed, of brutal annexation. They speak, in arrogance and ignorance, of some familial dispute, yet no such dispute is had. They are no brothers of mine, nor of any true Catholic. They claim no quarrel with the Holy See in Rome, yet they have committed damnable schism, vile in the eyes of the Lord. I say this once and for all, the Lords of Arcadia are no Christians, but heretics all, servants of Mammon, and damned to everlasting fire. They have no place at the table of Christian lords, having turned their backs on God long ago and led astray a pious and godly people into abomination, wickedness, and utter destruction. No Catholic king, nor any friend of liberty may, with right, assist them in their suppression of ancient freedoms.
In short, we will not submit to annexation by a foreign crown, and at that a heretic, not now, not ever. Though starved and lonely lions we be, we be yet lions, and shall in all things choose death before dictatorship, roaring down the hyenas with our final breath. Assist us if there be in you any fervor for human liberty, any sympathy for poor men trampled down by greedy lords, as unsated in their lust as they are enormous in their gluttony, or any love for God Almighty. Do not stand idly by, as the hypocrites of Levi and Judah, but aid we ravaged Samaritans, or risk your very souls.
TO: The Free Nations of the World
It is a bitter day in New Albion. As I write this, I sit surrounded by weary men, good Christians all, worn down by the over-polished boot of foreign oppression. Heretics invade our sovereign land and befoul our sacred places, scatter our families to the wind, and, clothing their barbarity in regalia, make fine speeches, citing Holy Verse. Yea, well we know that Satan quotes the Scriptures, and a demon's word may well sound sweet to unguarded ears. I, however, am no king, no man of noble blood, nor heir to throne or title. Little schooled am I in those arts of rhetoric reserved to that caste of lords and princes. I know only that my homeland, unwilling, suffers bloody trespass, groans beneath transgression, cries out for relief, but not at any price.
Bloodied, broken though we've been, we've not yet been beat. Downtrodden as we are, we are not yet defeated. Though the very ground shakes at the host which stands against us, still yet unshaking stand we our ground. We poor farmers and freeman, what our souls may lack in gold and silver, God did repay in steel and iron. We are no weak-willed men, resplendent in our royal chambers, but wary lions, jealous of our rugged pride; for, indeed, we sought out this land, and tamed it, poured out our very blood and in no small measure. This land is indeed my brother, my father, for in my veins run scarce as much Godwin blood as lies in the soil of our sweet Republic, this first birthplace of democratic liberty.
And now vile heretics from a bastard throne make wild claims, first of restoration, then, with their liars' scheme revealed, of brutal annexation. They speak, in arrogance and ignorance, of some familial dispute, yet no such dispute is had. They are no brothers of mine, nor of any true Catholic. They claim no quarrel with the Holy See in Rome, yet they have committed damnable schism, vile in the eyes of the Lord. I say this once and for all, the Lords of Arcadia are no Christians, but heretics all, servants of Mammon, and damned to everlasting fire. They have no place at the table of Christian lords, having turned their backs on God long ago and led astray a pious and godly people into abomination, wickedness, and utter destruction. No Catholic king, nor any friend of liberty may, with right, assist them in their suppression of ancient freedoms.
In short, we will not submit to annexation by a foreign crown, and at that a heretic, not now, not ever. Though starved and lonely lions we be, we be yet lions, and shall in all things choose death before dictatorship, roaring down the hyenas with our final breath. Assist us if there be in you any fervor for human liberty, any sympathy for poor men trampled down by greedy lords, as unsated in their lust as they are enormous in their gluttony, or any love for God Almighty. Do not stand idly by, as the hypocrites of Levi and Judah, but aid we ravaged Samaritans, or risk your very souls.
