This village was a losuy swamp of denizens and vacant lots all but a couple months ago. I arrived here and breathed life into this godless community. Vig the bringer and the bountiful. A lush garden now sprite with new vigor and zest.
Even the old honorbles who lost their way are returning. Hearing rumors of a new King whom brings greatness and grit. One for the people.
Ronins we may all be, brothers under the same banner.
Don't think for a moment though my brethren that King Vig the First. The Big. The Annointed One. Won't mercilessly slaughter you forsaken pigs at the first sign of insolence and bigotism
So you old washed up elders like
think you can return home to the place you left to die and rot while you went about your selfish pilgrimage. For what? To challenge the King to a title. Selfish dogs only desire glory.
I wonder what deranged deserter will come crawling back next hungry and broken looking to dine in the great hall another time to sit among the greats and drink thy wine.
This is the new saga where I end your futile insignificant attempt at dethronement. Eat drink dance then die.