Hail The Call Of Quinzek

The sky was but murderous black void. A brilliant flash followed by a thundering chorus that shook the earth. It was early in the season but there was no mistaking of the call of Quinzek. In a micro second Zwingzlow's cerebral cortex decoded the message. A primevial one that demanded pain and tribute to Quinzek.

The following morning Zwingzlow rose feeling the call of the quest. As a cohort of the 2nd degree there was no response but to comply with the calling. For to ignore was to be expunged from the order. Going to his arsenal he chose his most trusted weapon.....Quota Guru who had served him faithfully through the Cozar Conflict as well as the Terron Crusade.

Zwingzlow let his heart guide him to the Plains of Pain. The field was wet, mushy showing signs of trespass!

Being the first campaign of the year the follower of Quinzek swung slowly as the muscle memory took over. Signs were there. A ring from a nonbeliever, four studs and a catch of unknown origin. Living up to its name pain began to ingrain itself into Zwingzlow's joint, injuries from the many battles. Pain was taken as ordered by Quinzek. Tribute of quota (52 coins @ 16.08 Zschells) was captured which would be gladly deposited into the great chest that each season was emptied so that one of the faithful could traverse the great sea to a land filled by ancient Romans Brits and Saxons.

He pointed his Nogo towards his abode stopping only at the Tmix's shop. Here he purchased a postion to rid his body of pain. Securing Nogo Zwingzlow entered to find his humble abode empty, no concubine to attend to his needs and desires. His thoughts drifted to days gone by as he settled on his favourite couch, turned on the viewing tube and watching the boys of spring seek glory!