What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little samurai? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Crusaders, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Jerusalem, and I have over 300 confirmed cliff-charges. I am trained in medieval warfare and I’m the top lawbringer in the Popes armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another raider. I will AD MORTEM you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my holy words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the post-pidgeon? Think again, heathen. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of peacekeepers across the Middle-east and your holy city is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, infidel. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, saracen. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my parry combos. Not only am I extensively trained in pole-armed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of pony riding and other emotes and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off our holy city, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit NO SUPERSTITES on you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, viking.