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| <br/><font style="color:#e5e5e5; font-size:16pt; font-variant:small-caps"><center><span style="text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #000;"><hr>Overview<br/><hr></span></center></font> | | <br/><font style="color:#e5e5e5; font-size:16pt; font-variant:small-caps"><center><span style="text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #000;"><hr>A Galliard in the End of Days<br/><hr></span></center></font> |
| [[image:archion.png|300px|right]] | | [[image:archion.png|300px|right]] |
| <span style="color:#e5e5e5">Instead of boring you with a super long introduction of our Aurelianus bloodline, the descendants of Romans, I shall instead tell you of how we came to be in London. Once upon a time in a quaint village in Wales, three brothers: Anton, Arthfael, and Archion decided it was time to leave their sleepy home and chase grand dreams in the bustling city of London. Our ambitious plans, however, were nearly thwarted by our sister, who initially refused to part with a few quid for our journey. After much bickering and pestering, she finally relented, albeit reluctantly, from her secret stash of bank holding.<br/><br/> | | <span style="color:#e5e5e5">Paragraph One.<br/><br/> |
| With the funds in hand, the brothers made their way to their Bampi’s ancient antique car, <i> The Jolly Ho!,</i> a legendary rust bucket that was notorious for going only 35 kilometers per hour, reeking of old socks, and stubbornly requiring a stick shift. Anton hopped in behind the wheel, ready to tackle the back roads while Arthfael, struggling with hiccups from the nerve-wracking ride, clutched his stomach. Meanwhile I fussily formatted a playlist that no one could hear over the engine's wheezes. The car churred in metal, loudly! <br/><br/>
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| The journey was a relentless series of mishaps; we got a flat tire, awkwardly swapped it out, and moments later, as if the old car were an act of rebellion, the engine suddenly seized up in protest. Anton, always the skeptic of mechanical woes, scolded the vehicle like a naughty child, only for the engine to cough back to life as though responding to a parental reprimand. By the time we finally rolled into London, hours later than planned, we noticed that our carefully packed luggage had been ejected from the back seat somewhere along the Welsh hills. We had to turn around and go find it in the bushes.<br/><br/>
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| By nightfall when we finally ended our journey, with our luggage newly found, we noticed a great surprise. The true kicker was when Anton managed to pry open the glove compartment to find a hidden treasure: Bampi's old collection of mix tapes! Each cassette was labeled with nostalgic titles such as "Bampi’s Love Ballads" and "Classic Welsh Folk Tunes That Will Make You Weep." We realized that even while we sought to leave our old lives behind, it was that old rust bucket, with all its quirks, that ultimately brought us together again with our Grandfather in spirit. It was a journey well made, even if it wasn't ideal.</span>
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