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*Posters have been attached to noticeboards across Anthos. The Dwarven ones in particular were glued to the board for reasons few will understand*

 

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Aengoth notices an abundance of posters in the dwarven lands, grabbing a spare one (plenty left) for himself to ponder over.

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*Floragain spins his axe a few times angered at the sight of his burning home.*

 

  "I helped build this city and I will die before I see it destroyed."

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Daniella, having returned from the wilds, giggles at the sight of the ruination of Laenniel, Leanniel, Lenniel, whatever the heck it is.

 

"Silly Setherien...wasting his time here." She snorts, picking up a bottle of booze she throws it at one of the fires, watching it explode and catch more things around it on fire. She toys with a tress of her hair before snorting. 

 

"I always knew no good would come from changing the trivial name of this stupid town so many times."

 

She wanders off.

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Rickard laughs "I would rather my mannor be under them than hooded edgy accended!"

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*Many cultist laugh in the manor, while the elven slaves work, mining coal and Iron for them*

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"WHY DOES ANYONE STILL CARE?" Prey shouts out from the tallest hill in Anthos.

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Valmuel, back from a recent visit to Lenniel, sits down in her office and stares idly at the table. "I have to plan a war. With no allies. And to of which we will even win, such fates unknown."

She begins to draft letters to the two other Caers of the Golden Owl. She is calling all forces. Lenniel is one place she will not lose.

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"Yar har! The druids spit in our faces as we offer then safety and now they wish to wage war?! So be it! From now on I wish to see druid heads put onto pikes and all of their homes and holes burnt to the ground!" says captain scrubs the friendly pirate.

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*Many cultist laugh in the manor, while the elven slaves work, mining coal and Iron for them*

*One Elven Slave, as Quav left a few posts ago.*

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"How does one hunt for prairie dogs and badgers when they hide in their holes?

 

You smoke them out and smote them whole. It is the Druids for whom the bell tolls"

 

[[OOC: Please file all curse words, childish rage, and non-parental guided abuses to my forum inbox.]]

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Elorna sighs heavily as she contemplates the many, many factors to consider in this conflict.

 

 

[[OOC: Please file all curse words, childish rage, and non-parental guided abuses to my forum inbox.]]

[[Wut?]]

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*Many cultist laugh in the manor, while the elven slaves work, mining coal and Iron for them*

The Bird Druid would look out, seeing how almost every elf from Lenniel made adunian alts and ran off to oren. He sighs.

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John Johnson, traveling adventurer, looks over the battlefield as he passes by from a neighboring mountain.

 

"Other nations tried to send help, but they tried to send help to Lenniel and since that doesn't exist the armies never made it."

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