Prepare yourself Turkey. I will rip your units apart 1 by 1.
They called him "The Demon of Krak?w", a human Cerberus of the modern age. The scourge of civilization; the cruel and barbarous host of murder and famine. When Constantinople fell to the Mosalmans under Mehmed II "The Conqueror," the Demon turned his eyes in that direction, for he sought to liberate the domain once more.
It was late December when his forces pushed through the Dardanelles, overwhelming the local Sheikh. The fox warrior was mercilessly chained to a wooden post hastily erected in the town square. The Demon had been surprised when he had discovered the Sheikha's womanly features, and yet she stood up to the best of his loyal retainers in physical combat, even besting some of them with the sword. A witch who had signed a deal with the devil, no doubt.
But now she had been subdued, her armor broken and cast aside, a grimace plastered across her grimy face as she struggled futilely to break the bonds holding her captive. While his forces stacked wood at her feet, the Demon roared with laughter as he relieved himself of his battle armor. He extended his sword outwards, touching the sharp blade against the fox-woman's exposed neck.
"Prepare yourself Turkey. I will rip your units apart one by one."
