Kingdom of Rheynland

Nation Leader
May 24, 2020
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Issued on the 12th of the Eclipse


Ours are days of strife and horror; as the dead mount the very World in their midnight cloaks and riddle the living with knives and the chill of tombs. But amongst their treachery of the Worldly order they have one great foe; the very light of the LORDING SUN. And the Sun - has four limbs. For four deities born from its very grasp; cast out into the World so that they may be victorious unto the waking world into which we exist. Our duty hence requires the satisfaction of the deific Sun; unknowable in its might and mysteries. How else explain the terrible faith which befalls us? For the very people of the West have forgotten their gods.

The Clerics and Seers shall tell you of R E M A; who prays in silence, words never heard. The ravens of the world flock but cannot feast; for the dead yet stir.
The Clerics and Seers shall tell you of T Y T H; who forever waltzes in the depths of the World. Unending and incomprehensible. The dead threaten Time itself. For it exists in the minds of the living. And the dead do not care.
The Clerics and Seers shall tell you of S Y R A; who flows as water, and the Life that breathes within us. Hers is the beating heart. And not the beating, gnashing teeth of strigoi risen from the grave in their macabre dance.
The Clerics and Seers shall tell you of U S Y L; who flies above, an eagle of victory and might. To overcome our foes, and waits only for his call. His shall be a flaming, pale eagle. To stir within the souls of Man to make art of righteous slaughter.

And We. We shall tell you of the BEATING HEART of MAN. Which in its SPLENDOUR holds no name but that of a burning star of dawn; who raises red fingers to claim the very Heavens from those who would threaten it. Who sits in silence. Who stirs for eternity. Who grants us life by its mere passage. Who grants us victory forever. It is the S U N. Who forever mourns. Who forever is. Who forever lives. Who forever shall find victory. For the Sun shall forever be victorious; it only demands we follow it. For there was vision in the storm of the Dead; amidst their raging, wrathful forms; beyond their screams and pale, curved fingers there stood a crown. A crown which burns.

Therefore We kneel before thee. Shall you take our mantle? Will you gaze up and see? Will you rise a bloodied sword to the sky? Where dances eternally infinite beauteous horrors. For the Gods are myriad in their own way. In their own eternity. For they are horrible, and they are beautiful. To understand them is to know fear. To see them is to know pain. And yet great powers descend from the Heavens, and greater truths do slip from their gilded lips.


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