[ WP ] Scotland votes `` Yes '' on independence , England invades .

`` 8th September 20xx. 
 
 Dear Dairy, 
 
 We are nearly home, if you can call it that now, from the continent with our load. We had some sightings of the Hammer's ships. Thankfully we are nearly home. We are pasting an old haunt of mine, I think will go up and reminisce. 
 
 Captain James McRoy of the RSS Thistle'' 
 
 The tiny sail boat glided across the water, hidden by a seafret which hid them like a thick woollen blanket. The captain of the fragile vessel looked out across towards the rags and coves of the coast. 
 
 He knew this area well. His parents, peace with them, had taken him here many a time before. He had learnt the currents, banks, and tides of this tiny area of the grey North Sea. He had celebrated, with friends ( peace with them ) on one of these bleached sandy beaches, under a grey-blue sky, licked with the warm ambers which cooked the sliver-grey fish, when he was sixteen years old. It was a happy washed out memory. 
 
 This had occurred sixteen years ago. 
 
 The world had descended into darkness fifteen years ago. Thankfully it had not gone mad. 
 
 For one year they were going to be free. Free. Free from the oppressive English. Free from their laws, wars, and deplores. Freedom was almost theirs. Then the war happened. Freedom was hung `` until the war was over''. At least their promise of freedom had lasted longer than their brothers, the Irish. 
 
 At first, like their brother Ireland, Scotland had helped ( half heartily ) in the Sassenach's war. Until the SRA raised up. He had joined when he was 19. At first it was against the English and their slaves. After England collapsed into civil war it was against those non-true Scots. 
 
 Freedom was almost resuscitate. The Frocks had almost been defeated. Though the devil hides in things with lead to greatness. And the devil had hid his spawn in his Kingdom. Once a loyal officer, now one of the best Generals of the new England, he has been sent north to quill the `` rebel..''... 
 
 BANG! 
 
 Air. Cold. Wet. Black... 
 
 Pull... 
 
 Him. Hammer... 
 
 Nothing.
