The ever presence of the Mountain is now felt everywhere in the hills and forests of Transylvania and Szeklerland. People of different letters are quarreling, succumbing to Nerichinan pressure. Hate and violence are inserted into the Monster Graph. We are in desperate need of a Transylvanian Circumvolution.
The sins and evils of Peer Nerich are indeed eternal…
Written by Herman Ploppel jr. , March 1990
During the dark years of the Nerich reign, few men were feared more than the vicious Peer “Mountain” Nerich. As the commander of the castle dungeons he became the most experienced and gruesome torturer the Mures Valley has ever seen. As the nephew of Lord Gregorius, he obeyed his uncle and master in every task. He happily did his work with great joy and fantasy. His methods ripped many soul apart, making them scream of agony, suffering in both body and mind.
His methods of torture were many, some aimed at the mind and soul and many at the flesh and gut of his subjects. But at his worst he ripped it all apart, sucking and squeezing every trace of life out of his victim. The agony of the victims lasted for days, or maybe weeks, before the relief of death. One could tell Peer both true and false, good or evil, but his work would not stop, and ones body and mind were mistreated until the very end. The very fear of Peer made the Mures town folk silent and submissive.
The Mures town folk still dread Peer Nerich and his wicked ways, although he is believed dead. But his body was never found after the Krim uprising, and there is whispers that his evil soul still lurk in the darkest forests, waiting for a new opportunity to serve his master and rule the Mures Valley.
It is still said that his blood was not red, but black as the darkest moonless night.
Adrŷan Nerich – Historian – Targu Mures Historical Society
Nerich proposed the death of my father
Firefighters and prayer against the enemy;
My spirit is pleased,
My arm is strong
I like the first of many storms
This is a charming valley, you fence me in
Exciting places to see
Spring Valley, shine in my mind
Ground and the celebratory mood
Beautiful nature of culture and 13
I saw the wagonwheel could barely walk
Now, I flew from the water.
He then congratulated his country
His sword is the vagina.
Blow! Therefore, they sing, I sing,
A coward, who has the sword.
Fire and sword, never come into contact;
It seems that everything must grow fierce!
Who really believe in birth?
When the bees are seven; permanent gene
Crimean poem translated on behalf of the Targu Mures Historical Society by Douglas Rogers
In the long years of terror in the Mures Valley one man in particular was feared by the humble townsfolk. Peer Nerich was the right hand of the vicious Lord Kyan and he issued fear and horror upon the community. The dread that Peer would expel one from the valley and send one to the town of Scapegoats were massive.
The town of Scapegoats was a prison where people were punished in the most horrid ways. The only food they got were rotten almonds, and the none of the problems they were set to solve had a polynomial solution. The prisoners, called the Scapegoats, did not last long with these beastly circumstances and countless minds were eradicated.
Due to the unjust sufferings of the Scapegoats, Jacop Tepec decided that the data structure he and Igal Galperin worked on should forever be called the Scapegoat Tree.
Ovi Dänânae – Historian – Targu Mures Historical Society
Targu Mures Historical Society 