Thread:Travian Sackett/@comment-26295802-20160617232430/@comment-26258526-20160618182857

Travian raises an eyebrow and whispers to Imrahil, "Someone get me soapbox," Before steeping up onto a bench and shouting, "Sons of Numenor! I have never seen such a somber lot! You look as if you are determined to die by the mood. I for one have no plan on dying but if I do I will go out like a proper man of westernesse, with a war cry on my lips and a battle rage in my heart. Not a whimper will be heard from me as I march to war and maybe my death but a heart of iron and swan. Now I know that you lot are not the proud host on Dol Amroth prepared to march to war for King and Country, for they would be in full armor with a band and flowers being thrown from every window! We are the host of Dol Amroth and tales of our deeds shall be sung so long our names will be forgotten before our tale is, whos with me!" He then draws his sword and begins shouting "For Dol Amroth and Gondor! To the King!"