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“Indeed it does.. we still should worry over the red lich’s growing power though.” The Silver Lubba patted Gundanat before setting the missive aside and going on about her day.

Gundanat slowly read through the missive himself, chuckling as he muttered to himself "They never ask any other nations, always those involved. Saves us the issue of intervening now doesn't it?"

William read the missive "Someone has to put things into motion" he murmured before continuing his painting of the undead knight that has been haunting his memories, a dark painting featuring a darker figure. A phantom pain lingering on his wrist stops him from finishing the painting. "One day..." he said as he stood up, looking at the figure in the painting.

"Look at that, they have just found us." The Gravelord sat upon the ledge of that cavernous ravine, his empty sockets, staring down at the rifts below. It had been far too long since fresh blood had graced his ivory digits. The sign of a commander, stuck within his castle for far to long. After a moment, his palm would loft upwards, gilded smog starting to trace around his digits. That maw, spewing with abyssal smog, as he spoke that command to his general. "Sted al'numenro. A'gulhj narn vorrul" Ready the dead. We prepare for War

"Heard this John Augustus Galbraith fella is an undead spy that does necromancy," spoke Malik the Freak, spreading rumours in a busy tavern .

Iduna peerd over to what her new found uncle had written, she paused for a moment "dramatic but well written" she clearly didn't understand the context of the missive of this given moment.. later she found out what the missive was truly about "oh... oh..." she finally understand with a blink ".. want a drink?" she asked her uncle from with in hohkmats tavern

The greatest wizard to ever live, Sarah Artenin, watched as a single extra word appeared on the paper... 'Allegedly'. "Damn it." She sighed. The paper shifts again. The allegedly has been removed! "Hurray!"

TO SERVE AND PROTECT – – WE MUST FIGHT – – TWO YEARS AGO, MY FAMILY WERE STOLEN. SLAIN. AND ROBBED OF THEIR PLACE IN THE SEVEN SKIES. TWO YEARS AGO, DIPLOMACY WAS ATTEMPTED. I have sat RESTLESS as these beasts pursued me – hunting me to wit’s end. I have borne my blade with pride: I have waited for you foul folk to, at last, kill me in battle. But there has been NOTHING. Sat idle in a place you thought unfindable, snickering behind the gate and wall. BUT WE HAVE FOUND YOU. To the Commander of the Pontifical Guard, Patriarch Villorik – to the Queen of Balian, Sybille I – to mi sobrino, Prince Xander – to mi sobrina, Princess Santana – to my friends, the brother Coyote & Dyonne – to my mentor and the greatest wizard to live, Sarah – and ALL OTHERS who seek GLORY, BATTLE, and WHAT-HAVE YOU: We must end the undead menace, once and for all. A united front: no more dis-jointed raids and threats backed only by quill and parchment. Before the beasts grow ever-stronger, we must strike. If not for the kin they have taken from us now, all the ones they have taken and will take in the future. Your mother. Your son, your daughter. Your husband, or wife. Hells, your dog. Let us not have a second Cloudbreaker – or a second Worm. Let us learn from our past mistakes. Ruthlessness is Mercy Upon Ourselves. Your humble servant, Justice-seeker, John Augustus Galbraith

EINE WEINREICHE NACHT! A WINEFUL NIGHT! Issued by the Herrin Der Gastfreundschaft in the year of our Lord 1977 "Liebe Leserin, lieber Leser, To all who read this missive, thou art cordially invited to partake in a TAVERN NIGHT! This revel shall be hosted at Reinmar’s cherished Drunken Maiden Tavern. A Tavern night was dealt requested by a Barclay herself saints days ago and thust we shall deliver one to be done! As is our custom, the night shall bear a theme, and this occasion's theme is none other than WINE! Behold, the Drunken Maiden doth find itself blessed with an overabundance of wine from the far reaches of Aevos. Verily, it hath become quite the vexation to store such a plethora of bottles. Therefore, we declare this Tavern Night to be dedicated to Wine, Wine, and yet more Wine! All who attend shall be entreated to purchase and savor at least one varietal of wine. There shall be Red Wines, Pink Wines, Purple, White, Off-White, Dark Blue – a veritable rainbow of wines to delight thy senses! Moreover, there shall be a blind wine tasting competition of three rounds! He or she who doth guess the most wines correctly shall be bestowed with a mysterious prize! Though wine shall be the star of the evening, fear not, for all other libations shall be readily available for those who desire them. Come, let us make merry and toast to the bounty of the vine! Drinks in attendance include, but are not limited to: Beer, Ale, Cider, Wine, Whiskey, Mead, Vodka, Rum, Elixir, Cocktails, & Various Nonalcohol beverages” Gute Reise, HERRIN DER GASTFREUNDSCHAFT of The Princess's Noble Council, TAVERN OWNER of the Drunken Maiden, 'Ms. E'

An already successful young businessman ignores the plights of the needy and the failed, stroking his chin with all the smugness of a man of success.

Angelico Derfey spontaneously combusts beneath the weight of a thousand burning suns. His molten remains drift along the floor in an ashy magma pool.

A ginger haired elf named Lhoris reads the missive with a few nods. “Respect. Maria isn’t a gold digger.” They said aloud, pondering for a moment or two. “They are a GOAL digger!!” Lhoris respects a good hustle.

Amako was passed this particular journal, she eyed the pages with some shred of pity. "Oi, oi... Poor soul. Perhaps they should learn to play Go..."

Solveigh Sutharlainn tore the copy into shreds as she finished reading. "I knew it, you idiot fell for that woman with the face of an angel. You really couldn't keep away from her brother could you. Am I glad that I never fell for anyone." The woman glanced then towards to her sleeping twins. "I'm glad I don't remember their father either, less troublesome."

"I am going to tease her so much" The Hyspian royal would prepare some funny quips to levy at his cousin.

Lorcan Sutharlainn thought to himself that he could die from embaressment as his journal had been published for all to see, even if this was a part of his past that would apparently still haunt him until the Day he died

"Tia?" A certain Hyspian womans brows arched at the familiar names in this journal. She shuddered, gaze panning across to her brother. "Fae, look at this!" @_RoyalCrafter_

Frostiron Craste New type of Grapes In the year 1977, Imperial age, the Frostiron and the Crimson Guild found a new type of Grapes. The Crow variety were study in the last month by Jaromir and Vincent, and in the follow are the research they made: Apex: tending to globose, downy, whitish-green with slight pinkish-purple shading at margins. Apical leaflets (1st to 3rd): unfolded, downy, whitish-green with edges shaded pinkish-purple. Basal leaflets (4th onward): somewhat wavy, glabrous or with sparse hairs and yellowish-green above, downy and whitish on the underside; very jagged, pentalobed, with deep sinuses, upper ones closed; open the petiolar and lower two; teeth long, acute. Shoot axis: somewhat curved, green, pubescent. Sprout at flowering Apex: medium-shaped, downy, whitish, sometimes with slight pink tinge. Apical leaflets: unfolded, downy the 1st, less tomentose the other two; green with bronzy highlights on upper page, very indented; U-shaped petiolar sinus. Basal leaflets: unfolded, glabrous or arachnoid above, pubescent below, green with golden highlights; quinquelobed, sinuses deep and closed; teeth acute, large. Shoot axis: glabrous, green with dark hazel streaks. Bunch at maturity: medium, long, cylindrical-pyramidal, with an often long wing (and in this case it takes the name "double Crow" of which some documents speak of as a variety), rather compact; peduncle visible, woody at the attachment, medium thick, slightly pinkish; pedicels middles, thin, sometimes pinkish; cercine very evident, smooth with an intense wine-red color; large purplish brush. Berry: medium (mm 15), ellipsoidal; skin blue-violet, very pruinose, thick, very firm, somewhat astringent, with persistent umbilicus; flesh loose with simple, sweet flavor. Seeds: 2-3 in number per berry, medium-sized, elongated in shape. Woody shoot: long, stout, coarse, with rounded cross-section; internodes long (about 10 cm), striated, hazel-reddish; nodes not very evident, with purplish tinge; buds flattened, not very prominent. Trunk: robust. No further research was made, by the Crimson Guild, only two types of wine were made by the skilled hand of Jaromir. Nobody tasted It, currently. HIS LORDSHIP, VINCENT AUCLAIR , CRIMSON GUILD OWNER

"Where's the second edition?!" Ahnakriel, the immortal dragonkin screamed in anguish within the unfathomable depths of his cavernous abyss of a lair. The narrative and its abominable suspense was an affront to his mind, an intricate labyrinth of arcane knowledge and forgotten sorceries, reeled in latent horror. "WHERE IS THE SECOND PART?!" It screamed with a roar that echoed through the shadow-haunted recesses, the Azdrazi's fury manifested through a ravenous clawed hand ripping through a stack of old books. The walls of the cavern, carved by eons of his silent brooding trembled as though beset by some cosmic upheaval. His eyes, like twin suns of eldritch fire burned with a fury not born of mere mortal irritation yet of an ageless indignation that transcended time itself; smoke billowing in boiling anger from his serpent-like nostrils. At once he left the chamber to embark upon a search for the sequel.

Reginald Napier the III looks upon this missive eagerly, the esteemed author of various titles such as, "The Forbidden Snaga, Crown or Cuddles and Stuck between an Ostrich and a Hard Place" almost salivates at this sudden notice. A famous story, a plot-point as juicy and filled with such enjoyment for his potential viewers. His readers in Haense and Petra have declined in the recent years, and the longing love of one to Norlandic Royalty seemed like the perfect way to re-emerge into the literary scene. With such, he snatched a copy of the Sugarfoot's notice and began to plot his next novel.

Abzaghuth seemed awfully perplexed at the weird content found within the journal. The only words he could blurt out from beneath his black ferrum helmet are "Wub.. da.. zkah..." He desperately yelled out in cloud temple "ANYBODY KNUW A MAGHRIAH?!"

The Starbreaker orders the golems to destroy the records of personal logs in the fire place of his home. "Weh should move our inner thoughts tu ah safer place.."