Another 108 days of jail time...

Nearly bald now with a really really long rope of strong red hair, blended with only God knows of feces to her own and likely the rats the size of all of Poland who have been keeping Molly company. Molly knew the time was very close for what she had continued to work on even while in jail.

La dee daaaa tick tock the time was flying by for old Molly. Molly who was a pro at these nasty northerners practical joke in life. Well any way we wont go there, but instead to Molly's dreams. Being in the dark she had so many. Some that paid her a visit of the curiosity bug. She wondered if her new husband has missed her. She knew he thought she was strong enough to take the worlds hatred alone, but did that mean he missed her? Had he taken this vacation from a public spouse to visit some maids in the back to express his sorrow and longing for the wife he hasn't even seen since they wed. A honey moon what is that in all honesty? Perhaps this was the best form? As there was nothing that Molly couldn't experience up here, that she hadn't dreamed and wished her husband to do to her in their chambers.

Then her dreams shifted to her son. Curious how well he was doing. Molly having to send her children out into hiding in the world. Unsure even herself where her beloved children were. Her mind flicked between her two daughters a smile like no other. Then oddly enough to a dream of a dream of a dream where she was seeking this very solitude. Oblivious to the entire world in this place. Molly could only reflect in life. Cherishing what once was, and dreading what is now. Why would any one want to leave this place? It was quiet, and dark. It was silent and with out the whines of the others.

Sure it was dark and dank. Sure it was filthy and what most would consider in human, but hey to a long over worked Banrion this was a great vacation! Even the piss tea toting guard began to disappear, and blend into nothingness. Indeed it would make it easier when she finally saw the sun again to remember the difference between right and wrong. True right and wrong, not that of what people constantly spout off actually knowing about. When they break it just to make their point. Ah these jail cells were a dance in the park for old Molly, and the best part was how much it was costing her enemies to pay for her to sit on vacation for so long. The simple things are the best.

Besides rat tales and ear were quite a great meal! Much better than those stuffy banquets, and endlessly droning on meetings. Ah the hidden gifts of god Molly did so find, and was blessed... Quietly Molly began constructing the final parts of her plans while humming to herself a beautiful little ditty... or at least bits and pieces of it in a near operatic fashion.

'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so."

Majestic sat in his tent somewhere out in the world a place only he knows. He was watching his two daughters who were seven and four. Both daughters were born during wars but one thing he realized how much they have grown during those wars. Here they were talking to each other and learning new things as they traveled all over the world. Valerie learned how to write her name on the slate that Maj had in his bag and was teaching his youngest daughter Ariel to write her name. He knew education was important especially if they were Princesses since their mother was the Banrion.

Da is Mai going to be well?(Valerie)

Ya Mai gonna be otay?(Ariel)

He heard them well and sighed. He knew that they both missed their mother so did he. Of course he still loved their mother but she now belong to another man and knew that there was nothing he could do. He replied.

Your mother's will is strong but will never fail her. She has been through this before and made it through countless of times. Now girls time to get ready for bed.

The girls pouted but knew that Maj was correct it was late and time for bed. The Nanny came in and got them ready for bed. They came back to kiss their father goodnight and head to bed.

Don't forget your prayers before heading to bed.

He followed them and watched them say their prayers. Their mother taught them well and taught them to pray nightly before bed. He tucked them in bed and gave them good night kisses. He went back to his seat sat down wondered where he would be if those two daughters have not been born. As for Molly's newest child a son, he had wondered where he was. Was he with his mother or where? Perhaps she gave her son to someone to protect him from danger and went hiding until all was calm. He felt sad because he was not really his son but always wanted to have a son.

As he was nearing home, he saw a peasant crying on the ship he was on. He wondered why so he went up to the peasant to talk. It was a female peasant.

Miss, are you alright?

She jumped and looking scared. She looked around as if someone was chasing her. Majestic placed his hand on her shoulder.

It is alright. You are quite safe here. If anything happens, they would have to go through me and my Royal Knights here. I am Majestic, Regent of Ireland.

OH my yes my Lord Majestic. Oh it was so bad. I made an escape before that battle. It was horrifying.

Whoa what battle?

She calmed down and looked at him.

The battle at Poitou-Saintonge. There were 2 armies and I recognize them both. One is your brother Spain and another one I am very familiar with because they have tried to conquer us three times and failed it was Brittany.

Spain? Brother? They are no brothers to us anymore. They turned against us while most of the Irish were in prison and took advantage of it. Brittany, why am I not surprised? But one thing I am surprised is that those two Kingdoms joining together? How interesting.

Spain not brothers anymore? Oh anyhow it was awful. Serfs and Farmers dying under their swords and spears.

He mutters curses under his breath not letting anyone hear him cursing. For Spain and Brittany joining together, he thought, they shall not get away with it.

Thank you miss and GUARD!

A guard came up and saluted him waiting for his order.

Please take this woman down below and make sure she gets some food and wine. Also have the maid ready a bath for her as well. For now she is your responsibility, guard her well.

Yes Regent. Come with me miss.

The Guard led her down below whilst Majestic stood on the deck pondering.

It was complete hectic confusion as Molly found her door open, and someone running away. She was just about ready to begin her escape plans as well as she stood their with her rope of hair. She wouldn't be foolish enough to pass up this opportunity though! All the Irish had been freed and scrambled for what they could recover of their stolen items, and what they could take to make up for what they had lost!

Molly was lucky enough she found not far from her starting point in the center of the village her beauty. A joy to her eyes, and the joy to her weak body. Though not nearly as bad of condition as when they were freed of the Lithuanian prisons Molly could still feel the difference. She went up to her mount, Rich mahogany eminence, greeting him with a large refreshed smile and a steady hand gliding up his flanks towards his head. Much pleasure would be had for Molly to have the greeting returned, and before she knew she was galloping off as fast as she could convince RME to move.

Finding the Polish traps all around where she was released she kept her helmet on and stayed to the lands back lands through the night. On the border of Altmark and the Saxon castle of her dear husband Molly slowed to the gentle sound of running water. Quietly sitting on top of RME she listens for signs of any around. Unable to make any out she dismounts moving to find the water. Not having had a clean drink for far to long. It was calling to her. To the very depths of her every fiber. Screaming in her head of the thirst.

Keeping the reigns to RME in one hand, and her new long spear in the other she gently and quietly stepped towards what seemed to be a small creek. At least the water was moving and not stagnant. Molly kneels almost unable to ignore the dryness in her mouth. The plain missing cracks along her tongue. Her lips brittle and breaking from such thirst. The spear drops, and even the reigns as she lunges forward to place her face with no more caution to be controlled. Her skin tingles to the chill of the water rushing past her lips and chin. Completely consuming her entire face as she not sucks the water as if it would be the last she could find in life. After a very few minutes she lifts chasing her breath now.

The joy unable to be heard in the exasperated breaths any more. Her hands then lifted water up scrubbing some of the filth from the past many many months from her flesh. Restoring her to the skeletal frame beneath the filth, and damaged skin from the long restraint of not consuming for so long. Along one passing of her wet hands from bottom to top she pushed the helmet back and off her head. The moon light lightly landing along her exposed scalp. A real Irish cue ball showing now to the world. Molly continues to wash her head as well. Happy to attempt to remove some of the jitters and critters obtained in the filth of that jail. With water cascading over her wet and fully exposed head it is when Molly finally heard it. The rustle in the grass that sets all the hairs on your arm standing. The nerves on the back of her neck tingling, and the joy of spoiled solitude running away.

A hand drops to her spear as Molly prepares to fight what ever scoundrel was in that grass. Water dripping from her chin Molly looks towards the tall grasses. Quietly trying to gain control of her breaths again. Not even remembering her bald head she stands again with her spear ready to slash as she approached the grasses. "Come out or die." After where she was Molly wouldn't be giving up her freedom again soon.

Then from the grass a scrawny, filthy man stumbles forward. "D-Don't kill me please. I already lost my home and my animals. I-I don't have anything left." the peasant grovels. Molly hadn't realize in the flash he was stumbling she already hand the tip of the long spear to his throat. "Who are you?" Molly quickly questions. "I-I was a farmer. I worked land on Poitou-Saintonge. There was two armies that attacked." He spoke still with the tone of begging unmistakable to Molly. Molly of course recognized the land as one of her nations own. "Saintonge? Please join me, and tell me what happened." Molly lowered her spear crouching again next to the stream to take in some more water, but more importantly that of the tale that would be told to her. The peasant who told her his name was Mark, though Molly had yet to introduce herself and allowed Mark to refer to her as Lassy with out hesitation, had as well sat and drank obviously thirsty from some sort of run. Indeed he was wearing the color kilts of an Irish clan. Molly watched carefully the man, Mark, while he began to speak.

"Lassy it was awful the morning had barely peaked over the hills when I took my goats up to high ground for grazin. An then out'ta no where came to armies. On now be them cowards of Brittan who been knocking on our land lately. Try'n to take what is our own for theirs. Not a word, but of theft. Over and over again. I could see as I hid behind my goats the flag of those Spainards our b'loved Banrion had befriended, but they wern there for safe keep'n. Both armies approach the settlement, and begin their attack. First the arrow of that there king Thegame struct our militia, but then I saw with me own eyes the royal guard of that there Charles of Spain king target the militia at first. I didn believe it! I tell ya I thought my eye's be charmed! I saw a thick oozy fog roll in, and protectin each the Spainish and the Brittans! It was Unholy I tell ya! Un Holy! Both armies utilize this green fog, and suddenly. Oh my the fog was gone. Like it absorbed into hell itself! Nay a one of dem dar attackers capitulated, NOT A ONE! All twenty- nine of our militia were slaughtered! Den I watch as both plunder our lands, our homes! Killin our farmers, raping their wives, and claimin their slaves! It was a sheer crime I say! Nothing on it like earth before!"

Molly had listened with her eyes remaining closed the entire time. Not to reveal her identity in the moon light with her deep green eyes. Her mind floated for a moment across what was once beautiful land, some of the most lovely of all the world she had seen. She thought for a moment to her campaign in the frozen north against heathens, but at least she didn't use unholy magic! Oh no she used earthly means, and holy means! She calmed herself breathing over her knuckles hearing the mans words.

"Dar was men coming from no where. Once they were not there, and then they were. Do ya understand Lassy? It was pure evil!!! I waited until they filled their guts with mead and pass out before leavin my goats, and fleein! I had to escape them terrors! All dat blood! All that slime! All that killin! Not a one of dem got hit!" Molly nods realizing while she campaigned the perversion filled North after the filthy and unholy. There was far worse she had left back at home. Far worse of a sickening crime for all to see, and the tales that would come. Molly nods to the man now still not opening her eyes.

"Why come this far North?" She asks remaining quiet. "If Holy you wished why not to the East to the Vatican?" Molly goes quiet again. "Lassy I hear my Banrion our savior was held up dar. I came to rescue her, so she could us!" With that Molly opened her eyes wide and brightly. Her green eyes showing clear as the day to the man. "I need no saving man! I am here now before ye. Now come with me back to my husband's castle. There we can eat, and sleep a night before I need to head back to Ireland and save her from the devil himself." Molly stood now ignoring the look of sheer shock and uncertainty of how to react. She cracked a soft smile in assurance. "Come let's not waist I fear we failed the holy father in the North, and they still wish more than my hair." Winking she now reached for her helmet and pulled it back onto her bald cap. Mounting her ride again, and setting off for Saxony as fast as her mount could gallop with now two upon his back.

The horses hooves pounded hard into the earth as they crossed over safely into the Saxon castle lands. Passing right between to Polish patrols that were minding the border. Molly saw the castle was on high alert, and only flashed her green eyes to all she passed. Not a one mistook her for another, and allowed her to pass. Reaching the castle with the foam of sweat now upon her horses leathery hide Molly made the farmer slip from her horse, and walk in, just as she did. The gate guards recognized Molly and lowered their heads in respect. Molly was already in another world wondering if her husband was about, and quickly moving to the royal chambers to clean, and present.

It wouldn't be long before Molly was tended to, and was aided informed her husband still hadn't returned from the campaign in the North. Molly softly sighs with a slightly girlish admiration. Her husband surely had proved the validity of a well tuned warrior even if of an age much more than her own. Still their honey moon would end up having to wait. She was sure upon his arrival the talks would be quickly disclosed of his wife's arrival. Still filthy from shoulders down to her toes, and now with a new shiny bald cap to mark her new need in life. Molly spent most of the evening scrubbing the memory off of her flesh from her stay in that Nordish hell, but more importantly replacing it with the scent of her own beloved. Finally not leaving the room, or removing the towel from around her scalp she sat at a writing desk with some delicate finger cakes brought to her, and fresh wine reading some missives from Ireland. One in particular caught her eye. It was rough, slightly torn, and had droplets of dried blood sprayed across its fibers.

Molly opened it and read it first of all...

QUOTE:
"My Banrion Cumhaill,

In haste I scribe the failure of your elite militia on Marche-Limousin. The black forces of Spain and Brittany had arrived here, and there was no manner in the natural heart to be able to defend them. Even though the Spanish army at times appeared to be attacking their own allies the Brittans. To me it appeared sheer confusion upon that of the Spanish! I reckon the black arts are eating away at their realizations of possibilities! Though we killed a few of the witches, and wounded a great many more. In the end not a single one of our elites was ready to handle their black arts! May the God's watch over us all for a power strong enough to stop the devil! Before the owl flew away with this I witnessed both kings celebrating a coming child to the king of Spain over the corpse of children! Banrion we can not hold with out your glorious knights! Save Ireland! Save us all!

Captain of the Elite Guard."

The writing was written fairly sloppily, and in an obvious rush. At points the Captain had forgot to complete letters, and dot or cross letters. Molly's stomach grew hard with disgust. Not only allowing the devil into the world, but now fornicating with them? Molly rolled a bit with bile into her mouth. There were other missives from the Roman empire accusing Molly of wishing to attack Spain. Hell Molly had to wonder where their brains were. Ireland was in no condition to host another offensive. As was it was their members of Spain raping a nation and spreading evil! "Well I tell ye what." Molly spoke to herself. "I'll be damned if I will let this continue!" Snarling Molly began to ink and quill missives on the Saxon parchments to send off in plenty...

With out Spain Molly can Survive...

Rested, fed, and already fully recovered Molly dressed in her clean new armor. Her head covered with a green veil, and secured just firmly enough to keep it in place. With the early morning hours Molly rose blessed for her husbands bed suited her well. A joy harking her tired frame. She had been looking forward to a time of peace, and rebuilding with her various families, but the lunacy of King Charles would prevent her this simple joy.

With a night under the belt, feed in her gut, and warmth to the bones Molly moved quietly through the Saxon castle. So much did she have to accomplish, and in such a short amount of time. Tipping her head to one side she strained her neck, until it cracked relieving pressure, and loosing her neck. She walked through the corridors to the court yard once again. Deciding one day she really needed a real Christian holiday with her husband, but for now it was straight back into war cast upon them by the devil. For God no man shall rest.

Her sharp green eyes looked up to find her mount clean, and groomed. Such an expensive nag it was, but worth every silver. The gelding offered her great joy as she slipped a foot into the stirrup and pushed her small frame up into the saddle. With the opposing leg swinging quickly over the back, her body rested gently into leathers between her thighs. At least while in Saxony she knew she was safe, and chose a more comforting attire. Light armor with a sheer blue gown beneath. Fabrics so light the softest of breezes caused the fabric to flip up exposing just a little of her pearl white porcelain skin.

Her fingers took up the reigns, long leather straps curl between fingers and over her thumb only to rest securely in the grip of a closed fist. Molly wouldn't ride no lady saddle, or in any carriage, oh no she was a warrior through and through. One for God and she would ride as a warrior would. Her shield with royal seal upon it proudly held, and spear deciding not to like this long spear exchanged for a new standard. The one she was most deadly and proven with.

Her heels gently rise into her ride's sides. Nudging on the ride to come. Trotting in a playful canter Molly could tell her Rich was happy as well. With a gentle chuckle she speaks to RME, "Ready for another battle in God's defense then lovey?" Molly's trade mark naturally red lips shown a pleased smile as the trot soon exchanged for an all out gallop again. Molly rushed to the Saxon port of East Friesland. Quick shots of memories fill Molly's head. To each time she had seen her husband speak this name. Each letter rolling from his tongue, and gently exhales into words she could hear.

Molly imagined she was a small jug with a cork lid capturing each of those breaths and words for only her to treasure when needed later. Molly arrived to see off many other Irish who as well rotted in that horrid jail. It was good to see so many evaded capture again, but Molly knew it would be a long time before she would know if all had. She never dismounted as she watched her fellow Irish sail off. Even though she hadn't wanted war, and had it forced upon her by the evil man known as Charles Hart. She wouldn't disappoint. After such a grand rest in her husbands castle Molly felt as she did long before. All was healed, and she was ready for a fight.

As the ship left port, and each knight had been witnessed and checked on Molly turned her ride, and began a new journey. One that will surely never be forgotten. So many come, make a stink, and then fade with the wind. Only one thing is for sure some never will be forgotten in history. Isn't that the point of those attempting to dominate the world? To not be forgotten, but sadly they would all fail for they miss one thing. It isn't the courage, the tale, the strength, or wealth. It is the heart to always do what was right.

With that Molly headed for a land she hadn't entered yet! The land of England where a secret force had long been established and waiting. Waiting for just this day. The day Molly would come to them ready to ride. Many wondered why Molly allowed Spain to betray them with the devil. Many wondered why she kept quiet as they worked in the dark arts. Many asked why it was that she allowed the Templars to ride in with not a mention. Well it was plainly obvious, and that was that she was waiting.

What one might ask was she waiting for? The right reason to face these people in battle, and now they brought it to her. Right into her own home, and her own lands. The places she knew far better than any of them. Yes Molly received what she was waiting for. The devil on the earth now guided by the Templar knights. Who are showing their true evil. The true filth of the days.

Before nudging off Molly would partake in a gentle draw upon her own service of Saxon water. The gentle fluids running along her tongue, and to the back of her throat. Pleasing her every gentle sense. No alcohol to numb the senses, or stupefy the thoughts was needed. Only the Almighty blessing could cure the wounds of time. The known words of Charles play in her head indeed. She was sure Majestic had the same thoughts. Sadly the words were not that of Charles at all, but Molly and Majestic would be able to recognize the false tales. Of course Molly had to wonder if Gregory as well recognized the disgusting influence.

It just didn't matter the puppeteer any more. For the devil is the devil, and whether Molly must fight their puppets as in king Charles, or the devil himself. Molly would always do it. The oppression and vindictive of sin was burning in the main isles, and could be smelled even on the breezes this far. To all something evil was down there, and Molly would make sure it never succeeded in it's full terror reign. With that she corked her water, securing it, and nudging her ride off again towards England. Soon would be the time of the exorcism...

Much time had passed for the young Banrion. Still a very young twenty -four Molly had finally arrived some days before to Calvados. She had found an inn, and blended quietly into the day to day life of her people. Not just the knights, but that of the commoner as well. It was all well, and Molly at times had aided an older man in transporting his grains. Mourning the loss of her favorite wood port in the famous Hagity, and attempted abuse of his very freedom of Carlos. Molly struggled for many days to aide only that of the commoners. Until that her fellow knights and nobles began to arrive.

In her time of working the fields, and aiding the community with physical labors Molly would learn of this tale that the Spanish king was spreading. Once it became known who she was to her commoners Molly could only smile and nod almost honored to have spent time away from war and politics. Being able to actually tell another royal what it was like to be a pauper. Feeling the earth in her finger nails, and worms along her skin. Sweat rolling from her brow, and clothes sticking to her body. Being out of breath from sheer hard work. Each heavy step of carrying water to supply another. Not just speaking of pity for others whom do it.

As her knights arrived Molly would step up to who she was again. Greeting each, and now watching the horizon for the Irish Fury. She knew they were coming, and not far away. Still she couldn't yet see them.

This day as she watched for the others some older men were resting in the shade. One chewing upon a shaft of grass. Another widdling away on a chunk of wood to find out what it would become. The third busy eying all around him. As if he was waiting and expecting one of those Spanish knights to pop up and start screaming of oppression, and the greed of Molly. The same who has been working quietly and with little reward all these days right with them. The one who widdled on wood to see what it would become asked Molly a simple question, "How come ye don't defend ye tale no more?" Molly looked up from the fabrics she was washing for the community. A pale cream toned shirt gripped tightly in her fists above a basin in which she had been scrubbing until her fingers ached. Welcoming the short break to look to the man with a gentle smile.

"Why bother good sir? The effort of their work shows their malice. In their malice they show the falseness of their tale. Proving in the end it is they who know they are wrong, but to prideful to admit it. To prideful to recognize any one who is good. I could ruin my lungs screaming of the truth, but why? Would I not loose the ability to enjoy a simple breath with ye then? Nay God is providing the answer that we need. He is showing the truth and malice of that man. I need not labor to make it any more obvious."

Watching for a moment Molly's eyes gently lower again followed by the steady sloshing of the water she scrubbed another person's clothes in.

The man who chewed upon a blade of grass now speaks, "Now ain't ya afraid more shall believe him? He will ruin ya?"

Molly began to ring the water from the cloth as she finished scrubbing it, and rinsing the ash and soap from the fabric. Raising to throw it over a bunch of near branches that held already many clothes. Along with rocks, and tools. Anything a clean item could dry on away from the ground. As she did and moved to the chore Molly grinned almost playfully. "Now would ye rather I waste away my energy to dispelling his obviously large amount of time spent on attempting to discredit me, or would ye rather I spent it here with ye where it counts? I would rather be here with ye than in some high level throne room, or lush royal tent actually conspiring such fables as he. Wouldn't ye rather? Besides I get far more accomplished here, and have far more entertainment than that of his boring tale making. He may deride the truth for a short while, but thats the great thing about God. He has created a fail safe into all man. The truth will always show."

With that Molly lifted a dried grass broom, and moved into the house of the old men, and began removing the sticky cob webs.

*ooc content removed*

Oh to be a loud bellowing snore.
Nothing more than a lowly bore.
Look over there, and over there on the floor
and there running quickly out the door
Is your audience never more.

Just to listen to the same is such a chore.
Not even able to effect me to the core.
What happen next is you sent me run to the store
Running from a backless whore
Running to buy a lovely wooden oar

Should I impel never or just beat over the head nor
Your body would only wash ashore.
If only was a manner to just ignore
To beg, to plead, to run for
Crashing loudly straight through the backdoor

Any where just anywhere even the dance floor
with new and exciting decor
Would help me pull the stage door
Giving grace and hope something to shoot for!
If only entertainment was as easy a convenience store.

Now we see the hundred year war
and where is the magical score?
I'll show you where come step to the fore,
Now don't be sore,
relying only on gore.

Go right a head and scrounge through the drawer
Look up at the favorites while breathing like a boar!
Fool buying into the lore!
Here I am with the hammer of Thor!
Winning the favorite as all swore!

Molly was nervous after all of the external lies, and manipulations upon her very name. In such unholy means. She was worried though her knights didn't speak that perhaps they agreed with Spain and The Order. Even the Nordish and Swedes. With sweaty palms she arrived on her ride to Anjou to face the known deeds of the black magic masters of Brittany. Only God himself had managed to slow the progression of the deeds now. England holding the Spanish at bay. Whom at first Molly would later be told would not only run, but attempt to state it was Greg who ran.

Of course Molly knew Greg was no fool, and only planned to the finest detail. Mainly the Irish Fury, and some of Ireland's largest hitters to arrive. As well as Molly who even while still silky on top insisted on facing these demons with Greg. Side by side with him now Molly looked out upon the black earth and cringed to that of which Spain and Brittany had done.

Her eyes more importantly scan to the Irish knights who came to join her. Much to her surprise was what the knights would voluntarily state. One would shout, "Please... no peace this time. No deals, no diplomatic solutions and no quarter! Let us burn their traitorous lands to the ground, let us lock them in their castle and make them watch as we lay waste to all their lands. My blood is boiling and my axe is sharp - TO SPAIN!"

Molly's eyes darted to the knight who shouted this. Her chest tingled and filled deeply with the pleasure to hear not Majestic or herself speak on this issue, but another Irish. Now another shouted out loudly, "WOOT I got my axe ready and lets get ready to RUMMMMBLLLLEEEEE" Molly began to tear up just slightly. To find now two who supported her so publicly so willingly. Those who supported the family in Ireland! Now a third beamed brightly in a large smile and spoke to the others,"Spoken like a real Irish. Just a couple of bastards and we with a sword or axe!" Molly almost fell off her horse now as more and more knights began to appear. Not only appear but as well compose poetry! Now another reaches up, and speaks...

"Axes flash, broadsword swing,
Shining armour's piercing ring
Horses run with polished shield,
Fight Those Bastards till They Yield
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

Follow orders as you're told,
Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold
Fight until you die or drop,
A Force Like Ours is Hard to Stop
Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight till You're No Longer Sane
Let not one damn cur pass by,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

Guard your women and children well,
Send These Bastards Back to Hell
We'll teach them the ways of war,
They Won't Come Here Any More
Use your shield and use your head,
Fight till Every One is Dead
Raise the flag up to the sky,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

Dawn has broke, the time has come,
Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum
We'll win the war and pay the toll,
We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!"

Molly slides a hand in the air, and then the other only able to applaud the knight. Such beauty in her family. She was really proud to be Irish, and in this family. Now another speaks loudly and proudly. One of the nations elders as well.

"Oh I am good old Irish and that is what I am
And for the Spanish nation I do not give a damn
I am glad I fight against her and I hope that we win
I kick their arses and let them pay for her sin

Oh I hate the Spanish nation and everything they do
I hate the nation of Brittany too
I hat both their nations just dripping with our blood
I hate both their banners and spit it all I good"

Molly continues now to honor her knights with tears of pride and joy as well as applause. Now a voice already spoken speaks again, "WOOT THE FURY HAS LANDED!!!!!!! LETS RUMBLE!!!!!!!"

Now another jumps up, and responds to the already spoken voice. "I am afraid I MUST demand you save me at least 200 Spaniards. Anything less, and I might as well not bring my axe out at all. " Now the voices of Ireland are rapidly speaking, and speaking their minds where else it is ignored other than by the Irish family. Now one of the poets speaks proudly, "Don't be so selfish. He promised me at least 300 Spaniards but I will share with you!" Molly now speaks in to enjoy the relaxing urges of Ireland, "I don't care how many I kill... Only that we kill them!" Still another voice speaks up feeling the burn towards Spain. "Right now I want to see Spain erased more than I want to see Sweden burning " This catches Molly off gaurd and she is amazed as she truly felt the same. Which is hard for her to confess. Patting all her knights on the bag as she slip off her ride, and moved around the scene. She smiled not even bothering to hide the tears in her eyes. "I love you all, and am so damn proud of my Irish family!"

For some time the Irish Fury army had encountered the Spanish before they were even fully gathered. Barely even able to maintain their own two lands of Calvados and Touraine from the evil and dastardly ethics of the Spanish. Still they managed by only the strength of belief, and the firmness of their will. They would no longer allow these cold hearted and evil people to reign over their people. It would be such Molly would exercise a tactic that would prove to confuse the Spanish. Giving the Irish Fury the opportunity even Molly hadn't believed would happen until that of the Boru army arrived.

With a failed attempt to retake Poitou-Saintonge, and then quickly assured another failing again at Marche-Limousin Molly took to her map drawing out a careful plan. One more loss and the army would scatter and be at the will of those Spanish murderers. Who allow only greed to lead them. Greed for what the Irish had not only long been blessed with, but worked extremely hard for. It was this that led Molly to decide to either run to Touraine or risk a victory at Berry. Molly knew in Charles's arrogance he neither kept an army near enough to stop her, and wouldn't believe she would have the gual to attack and risk another lost battle. It was for this reason Molly ordered the army, and led it herself to the lands of Berry.

Now having an opportunity for a distraction tactic that Molly would utilize. She knew the Spanish would chase foolishly after her, and they wouldn't disappoint. Molly knew the ranks of Fury were not yet all gathered. Anticipating a questionable loss, and retreat to Touraine. In which she had reinforcements waiting with fresh supplies. Molly would be able to use this tactic just long enough to gain what the Fury army needed to be able to truly challenge the Spanish. Not just with brains and plannings. In the end with might.

Reports floated all around of the cowards in the Order attempting to sneak in on this rampage from Spain. Hearing rumors of Spain actually being their puppet. It is for this reason their appearance and disappearance was no issue for Molly at all. The order was no threat for her. As she knew deep inside that they no longer walked with the holy father. She also knew they did not fight with their peoples consent or support. It was for this reason something else would inspire Molly.

She knew too the Spanish were selfishly stalling. Using their knight lysander and a couple of others to attempt to lure her Irish knights in deathly duels. A failed attempt to weaken them beyond fighting. Molly quickly sent word through her ranks to refuse all duels from the Spanish swine. It would be her pride to know the Irish agreed with her in completeness. Ah the disgusting tactics that have been witnessed in this war. Only highlighting greed of a couple of men. Thus Molly would lead the Fury army with that of her Irish Fury army to Marche-Limousin again. This time with the soul intent of returning it to the rightful family. Sadly the Spanish were to worried about loosing their stolen land of Guyenne they hadn't anticipated the brazon move of the Irish Banrion.

Now daily Irish knights flooded into the two armies. The Fury and the Boru. Both with the intent of cleansing Irish lands of this dark order led by Charles king of Spain. Cracking her neck Molly quickly set free the peasants from their ball and chains the Spanish had applied to them. Nodding quietly with a smile to all the appriciative peasant of Irish lands. Then the Spanish army of knights of Santiago would appear with in the coming days. Molly knew they would never give up their slaves with out a fight. Nothing would make Molly's heart soar higher to the heavens than to see the Irish peasants who were weak and wounded from the Spanish occupation run to the battles. Standing tall and proud to help in the defenses against their true oppressors again.

Thus it would be the people and the Banrion would fight side by side with great fury. Defending their God given rights to freedoms and life. The Spanish would attempt to destroy and murder all Irish, but when the battle seemed sure to be lost it was like God himself battled through the Irish knights. A great power over came them, and they chased away the Spanish. Even the knight Lysander who had used such horrid tactics in attempt to prevent Irish battles from any success. As the battle ended Molly quickly offered the peasant some extra weapons for defense and rode again with out stopping intent on reclaiming their lands of Poitou-Saintonge; freeing the captives there as well. With no damage to her armor, weapons, and not even an arrow missing from the battle with knights of Santiago. Molly was prepared for this holy moment. She couldn't wait to perform this holy of exorcisms upon this land stolen by the Britons. Pulling out the holy water, and writings of the past she began her holy acts.

Facing with great pride the demons surrounding the land Molly held her head, now covered with a fine red fuzz of her hair finally growing back, up high. Her shoulders pinned back sharply. Her mouth opened allowing out a confident and clear voice of Commandment, "In the name of the Holy father, The holy spirit, the holy mother, and his holy son I command you to leave these people to that of the Holy Spirit!" Molly then began to much softer speak in a prayer. "Heavenly Father I ask that you cast out any and all evil spirits in, around or attached to the people of Poitou-Saintonge." Again her head pushed back just as firm, and her voice again demands. "Brittany I command you in the name of the Holy Father and his son to leave the people of Poitou-Saintonge bodies now!" Molly now throws a leg over the back of her ride. Sliding down to the earth with her army behind her she begins to ambulate around the village. Touching much with her hands while stating clear prayers for their benefit. With each thing she touched she would say boldly and clearly. "Thank you Lord for your sanctification, In your sons name, I command all demons, you leave at once, I bless this in the name of Jesus Christ, your son! Let the Holy Spirit guide you." She would splash it with the purest of waters from the far reaches of Ireland. Blessed in Holy prayer, and kept away from all man. This would be a long process for Molly. It would take days to cleanse these lands.

Even at such sometimes the demons would fight and speak back. For follow up the faiths of all of Ireland would follow up with their own cleanings. Clearing out the demons was the largest priority to the Banrion and all the faiths peacefully dwelling in respect in Ireland...

It would be just as predicted in ancient rhymes, and parchments. By the end of the powerful exorcism the air was now light and and almost purified. The holy power of all faiths combined would completely purge the nation of Brittany completely from the map, and remembered existence. The lands were destroyed from the great holy battle. All faiths in their own rights, with their own practices. Each bringing their unique knowledge and abilities through the lead of the Irish.

For days prior the demons would oppose. Not faltering for a moment to their intent to continue to grip and strangle all that is good. All that allows life to maintain and evolve in a healthy manner. Many prayers and chants came. The demonic insults were to attempt to weaken the force. In this case the force was finally well prepared. Swallowing rather firmly Molly moved through the Holy battle field her hands being her weapons of the heavens.

She would touch men, women, and children exercising the love of God. Forgiving each for their individual transgressions. Welcoming them back into love. By the end the battle had worn Molly's will. It had exhausted her mind to repetitive prayers. Still she led the battle taking the most blows against the demons. When no longer could she battle, and was her will able to keep fighting. Just like years prior God himself led her on.

In a battle that would spread across all lands. No matter the faith all believed in demons, and evil spirits. Now Molly and the Irish were proven as a cleansing force. For it would be not only that Poitou-Saintonge would be cleansed, but the demonic force of Brittany would crumble in this single night. Great howling, lashing out, but not a moment of weapon used. None more powerful than that of the holy touch.

Molly would be found with both hands held firmly to the earth between Brittany and Poitou-Saintonge. Her prayer constant and obvious. Miracle Molly still lived and breathed in a trance. Just as once in the past miracles were brought to an honest heart. Now such evil had been struck from the earth. Her eyes were clear and held fast to the object of earth around her. The very earth was cracked and broken. Each earthly mark joined to where Molly's hands were held. Blood appeared to drain from Molly's eyes in the form of red tears. Different items lay scattered in a circle around Molly as if they had been moving of their own accord and dropped upon defeat.

There was perfect claw marks upon the earth showing the demons attempting to attack Molly. It is very common knowledge demons would love to posses and destroy holy individuals. Day after day Molly and the Irish would battle with demons continuously taunting and spitting at them.

"The Lord bless thee and keep ye

May He show His Face to ye and have pity on ye.

May He turn His Countenance towards ye and give ye peace. The Lord blesses ye."

All the faiths and people of Ireland finishing their sacred rights and passages. Molly now seeing God cleansed the devil and demons of hell feels just a little exhausted. She rises the obvious level of her exhaustion apparent as she drags herself to a spot not far away, but just out of the way. A nice pile of dead grasses covering old fodder. She laid down upon this mound as if it was a nest. Quickly finding herself a spot of rest before the holy battle would continue. Even though one evil force has been stopped. There is still the evil source that had let the devil on to the earth. A single bird arrived to the area taking in the scene. As if it was reporting to God himself that hell had been closed. It to now rests not far from Molly. It's very beak tucked just under it's wing.

All the people of the land were exhausted, and now rested for a few days to come. This battle was historical and not with out the scars caused to the lands by the devil himself. Now it was up to God to maintain this level of peace. This cleansing of the lands. This hard work of the Irish. Just as he granted them complete success in a single battle. He must continue to prove how it is he has decided. It was time his true followers listen. Molly dreamed of her children for the first time in months. With her royal guards both speechless, and fearful to the reality of what they witnessed staying close to their Banrion. Staying close to all the Irish.

For on this day was proof to the living of the almighty. On this day heaven took care of their people. Heaven blessed Poitou-Saintonge.