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Wetting The Blade

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Mingpow321

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Crowley grabs his bucket, aiming to collect as many elven tears as possible, knowing they are extremely delicious. 

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LubLub'Sandru The Whyte, lost somewhere in the Orcish Desert, hears of this up-coming battle and will finally show up.

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Karin decides to write a little letter to the orcs. ((Yes she has IC knowledge that the orcs are attacking))

 

Dear Mister Orcs;

       We are sorry that you were insulted despite attempts at a peaceful protest. I understand that the citizens of the conclaive are complete idiots and repulsive filth, with the intelligence level that could rival a turtle. However, fret not. To signify my sincerest apologies, I'll let you have Cir'dian. Yes, the loud mouth brown haired Mali who never knows when to keep his mouth shut. He is the one who insulted you. He does not represent the conclave at all. He's an idiot that needs to know his place and know that words could get everyone killed. So yes, please take Cir'dian if you want. You can slaughter him, torture him,, eat him, enslave him, whatever you orcs do best. In fact. I may even help you capture him. Please don't attack the conclaive. The citizens may have duck level intelligence, but that doesn't mean the entire population should be eradicated because one fool refuses to shut up. If you do not wish to refrain your attacks and take Cir'dian with you, very well. Carry on with your slaughter.

 

Yours truly, 

An Elf.

 

The letter is sent to Gronkkston, for the nearest orc to pick up.

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((The amount of trolling is why I hate RP posts.))

 

NO REAL TEARS

 

  [Gotta follow the rules mayn]

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Yagak yawns as he nonchalantly swaggers into Gronkksten, accidentally stomping on the letter as he walks by. "Uupesies" he mutters, shaking his head at his silly mistake.

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Boul still proposes the warclaim of fenn to wuleghen after they fight the elves of conclave

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Muzgash'Kaxil pounds his heavy fists against his chest, eagerly awaiting the coming battle. His stomach suddenly begins to rumble slightly, as he starts to lick his lips around his tusks.

 

"Da twiggiez am bein' klomped flat agh eatinz bruddahz!"

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Caitlyn is now very firm in her belief that Cir'dian is the Elven equivalent of a whitewash. She makes a mental note to hand him over to the Orcs if she gets the chance. She grunts once before going back to her work. 

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Prey begins the sharpening of her bastard sword , whistling quietly in the silence of her own home.

 

"I'm going to kill atleast one person in a war this year."

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Warboss Tor'Lur stands upon the hilltop next to the Targoth "dah nehgru twiggehz nub no wub we am capable ob bruddah, we will teech dem ob our powa an dey will peep why dey nub inzult uz." He raises his orcish War blade high above his head as he joined in with the war cries.

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