|
|
Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| A [[Jeweled Amber]] file
| | BROFLAKE MAD |
| -----------------
| |
| ''When King Random required Articles of Submission in connection to their swearing official fealty, this is what was received from Prince Borlak, Hetman of the Flowing Horde.''
| |
| | |
| | |
| <div class="center" style="width: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
| |
| | |
| [[File:Borlak2.jpg]]
| |
| | |
| <Font Face="Ink Free"><Font Size ="4">'''Mine is Rage'''
| |
| | |
| | |
| | |
| '''''<span style=color:darkred><big>I pull the mane of my horse to face the east.
| |
| | |
| '''''<span style=color:darkred>That way lay Amber. Amber is death.
| |
| | |
| | |
| Random demands I write a Letter of Submission upon his ascension to the throne. Submit I shall not, but this I will write.
| |
| | |
| I swore by the Tiger to stay from the paths that lead to War with what I only at sword-point call my homeland. I have no home save my horse's saddle and a jurt on wheels. And from time to time I loose them too. So in the end I have no home, except my rage.
| |
| | |
| Red, my eyes weep the tears of vengeance denied. Perhaps only postponed.
| |
| | |
| He comes to me. Tiger. Fur thick as a forest, warm as the sun. Blood hot on his tongue. And I? I am his champion, Borlak, Hetman of the Flowing Horde of the Rentar. Rightful King of Amber.
| |
| | |
| Behind me a million horseman, 10 million slaves, and a billions dead. Do I care? No. I take the women I want, or the young boys, and give them to the others when I am done. We do not slay a pretty wench till she is long past use. Then she goes into the grinder to feed the dogs. Ours is not a wasteful life. I have too many mouths to feed to waste meat, or to waste beef on dogs.
| |
| | |
| Once I rode at Oberon's side. His son. He swore on the day that I drew him from a dragon's belly that he would have no heir but me, no son in his heart but me, not oath-mate but me. We shared a woman to bond his oath and we fed her to fish with wicked sharp teeth together.
| |
| | |
| We made war together. He swore I would be King in Amber. To do as I want with the lands, castles, the daughters, and young sons of the dandy elite of that green place. That I would harrow the weak, raise the strong and eat the dead till Amber was the mightiest of Empires and chaos would bow at our feet. I stood beside him as he planted a tree to mark where our lands ended and our future lay. We made war from [[Ang Ri]] to Rentar to Gashnir to Kashfra, but what did he tell me in the end?
| |
| | |
| My company was not gentle enough for Amber. Those of the Court would not love one who takes. Would not follow a cruel man. He was not cruel? Eric was not cruel? Eric, who had ridden at our side on many a battle-plain, had lain his sword at my feet in homage and draped himself over a fence rail for my use. How could he be king in Amber and not I?
| |
| | |
| Did Bleys not learn weaponry at my knee? Horsemanship? Dominance? Did Corwin and I not cast dice for the spoils of war? Did Eric and I not learn cruelty from the same teachers?
| |
| | |
| Am I not a true Prince of Amber? Does not a portrait of me hang in the Family Gallery?
| |
| | |
| I am. It does.
| |
| | |
| No submission this, Random. None from me will you gain. When I set foot in Amber I come as a conqueror.
| |
| | |
| But that is not a fight I will start. The case of war is one that must be brought on me. Start it and I shall see it to the end and suck the marrow of dandy bones on the steps of Kolvir. The women of Amber shall suck to save their lives.
| |
| | |
|
| |
| | |
| <big>'''''In fealty to none, in submission to none, I remain,''
| |
| | |
| '''''Borlak, Rightful King of Amber''</big>
| |
| | |
| | |
| [[Jeweled Amber]]
| |