20-10-2024, 11:11 AM
Mémoire
Eroncourt, Lourenne - 1 November 5558
![[Image: image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fimages.alltrails...=3840&q=75]](https://www.alltrails.com/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fimages.alltrails.com%2FeyJidWNrZXQiOiJhc3NldHMuYWxsdHJhaWxzLmNvbSIsImtleSI6InVwbG9hZHMvcGhvdG8vaW1hZ2UvNjU0NjQ3OTAvMWIyMTNmNWM4MDAxN2MzNTY1ODZiMzAwMDMwNGM5ZDAuanBnIiwiZWRpdHMiOnsidG9Gb3JtYXQiOiJqcGVnIiwicmVzaXplIjp7IndpZHRoIjoxMDgwLCJoZWlnaHQiOjcwMCwiZml0IjoiY292ZXIifSwicm90YXRlIjpudWxsLCJqcGVnIjp7InRyZWxsaXNRdWFudGlzYXRpb24iOnRydWUsIm92ZXJzaG9vdERlcmluZ2luZyI6dHJ1ZSwib3B0aW1pc2VTY2FucyI6dHJ1ZSwicXVhbnRpc2F0aW9uVGFibGUiOjN9fX0%3D&w=3840&q=75)
They walked along the trail and soon found themselves on one of the bustling pavement streets. A battalion of secret service agents, Yeudi and Canrillaise, mingled with the people going about their business a few meters behind them.
Weather was cold; a wind that felt directionless touched their faces, here and there.
-
They spoke of Dovani and its subsiding and calming trance ever since that Vascanian short-lived hiccup. Xsampa, naturally found its way in the conversation, a mischiefing predisposition worthy of regional and global adversaries. Baeguk, undying, to the North.
Then they passed through Keris and Macon; the footprints of Dolgava and Hutori still lingering in a Northern Hemisphere that's still present in the shadows of legacy. Trigunia, the alternating figure between despair and unreason.
A short stop for a hot cup of cafe au lait as the conversation naturally shifted towards Seleya. The oxymorons of a relentlessly undying Kalistan and Ananto barely noticed by many. Lodamun, overextending its hand in the wrong neighbourhood and masking its heavyweight militarist soul behind trade and commerce. Baltusia, the confused and confusing one. All in all, a Seleya that seems hefty eager to embark upon Pan-Seleyanism but failing; failing only because of fearing of dreaming of unity, unlike Artania, which pretends to dream of unity.
The conversation shifted southwards, the clash of Luthorian and Canrillaise essences with identities lost in the wind. A Kanjor and a Dorvik working together under the umbrella of an anti-Dorvish Lourenne that's now ended, but not ended.
-
They stopped for breakfast. Naturally, Isaac Benowitz looked for omelette with cheese. They laughed together as he butchered the order.
-
As they joked about hummus and baguettes, their words lingered on Majatra's active cauldron and the relentless pursuit of foreign powers like Kundrati to exploit situations, twisting them to their liking. Benowitz choked when the Vivaldi-Vandams mentioned Istalia. A story about the Throne of Yishelem shifted the conversation to the Jelbic Empire and the 3rd Point. Unnoticed menaces, they said.
They were about to break off - a couple of SUVs were stationed close - when Artania came up, this time as a divided whole.
"Like nothing ever happened, nor changed", one said.
"We need leadership", said the other.
Eroncourt, Lourenne - 1 November 5558
They walked along the trail and soon found themselves on one of the bustling pavement streets. A battalion of secret service agents, Yeudi and Canrillaise, mingled with the people going about their business a few meters behind them.
Weather was cold; a wind that felt directionless touched their faces, here and there.
-
They spoke of Dovani and its subsiding and calming trance ever since that Vascanian short-lived hiccup. Xsampa, naturally found its way in the conversation, a mischiefing predisposition worthy of regional and global adversaries. Baeguk, undying, to the North.
Then they passed through Keris and Macon; the footprints of Dolgava and Hutori still lingering in a Northern Hemisphere that's still present in the shadows of legacy. Trigunia, the alternating figure between despair and unreason.
A short stop for a hot cup of cafe au lait as the conversation naturally shifted towards Seleya. The oxymorons of a relentlessly undying Kalistan and Ananto barely noticed by many. Lodamun, overextending its hand in the wrong neighbourhood and masking its heavyweight militarist soul behind trade and commerce. Baltusia, the confused and confusing one. All in all, a Seleya that seems hefty eager to embark upon Pan-Seleyanism but failing; failing only because of fearing of dreaming of unity, unlike Artania, which pretends to dream of unity.
The conversation shifted southwards, the clash of Luthorian and Canrillaise essences with identities lost in the wind. A Kanjor and a Dorvik working together under the umbrella of an anti-Dorvish Lourenne that's now ended, but not ended.
-
They stopped for breakfast. Naturally, Isaac Benowitz looked for omelette with cheese. They laughed together as he butchered the order.
-
As they joked about hummus and baguettes, their words lingered on Majatra's active cauldron and the relentless pursuit of foreign powers like Kundrati to exploit situations, twisting them to their liking. Benowitz choked when the Vivaldi-Vandams mentioned Istalia. A story about the Throne of Yishelem shifted the conversation to the Jelbic Empire and the 3rd Point. Unnoticed menaces, they said.
They were about to break off - a couple of SUVs were stationed close - when Artania came up, this time as a divided whole.
"Like nothing ever happened, nor changed", one said.
"We need leadership", said the other.
The Banana