"Kill Them All, And Let God Sort Them Out"
-Arnaud Almaric, 1209
Sepp showed up at Monroe not long after its founding 2 years ago, Wounded and weary from a lifetime of conflict. Too Injured to carry on foward, Sepp has laid down roots, and as the prophet said, Turned his swords into plowshares, Taking up the mantle of his ancestors.
Since arriving in Monroe, he was once a quiet, hermetic man, Who none the less remains a valued member of the township for helping keep the foodstores filled, and his expertise with animals and livestock.
Those Days Are Over.
The Hope's and Dream's of a Man's hope for a better world are gone. Blasted apart like Ashes to the wind. Desperation has begun to take root. Old Ideals, Old Oaths and Old Ways must be brought back, In order for Monroe to stand amongst the squabbling fiefdoms that sit in the corpse of the great United States. Plotters laying in the dark, Assasination Attempts, Coups and Desertions, None of these will stop the Heir of The Ghost. Monroe will be turned to the path of war, Even if it means his own death.
The War must be Renewed, Reignited and Reinvigorated.
It was a lie, To think he could rest easily, For was the Ghost not right?
That the War Never Ended?
A Nightmare has been sown in the Heart of Monroe, and god help those who reap the fruit.
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