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Arnorian waves his Alrasian flag.

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"Du nae let worshippers ove tah dark bein's go unpunished!"

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Wilfriche grumbles. "More propaganda, when do they stop? Do they not know that the Harbinger itself was firing from the Alrasian cliffs? Retribution shall come to you, Zionists. Fear that day."

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"You guys realize that bolding random buzzwords doesn't make your propaganda good

 

Also if anyone should be held responsible for consorting the the Scourge it should be the dwarven nation which is the only thing which keeps your little pact alive in the 1st place! Zionist shill and hypocrisy strikes again" shouts Donkey Kong

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Taenost Ihnsil'dionn comes forth, a war correspondent wearing a scowl. He announces at the Temple of Vallendar in hopes that the clerics may spread the word of what he bore witness to. Two or three Harbingers were witnessed resting atop the karst of Kal'Akron, along the unfinished Alrasian settlement. They shot down upon the Orenites as the Orenites had already pushed and slaughtered the Dwarfish, Orkish, and Alrasian soldiers, thus the instigator of improper slander had his facts incorrect. Taenost's scowl curls further into a grimace, stating "Valah of Alras, Bortu, and Uruk collude such disinformation to lie to the populace. They also failed to mention that they brought fire into the conflict by what appeared to be Magi burning the flesh and armor of Orenites. They also attempted to accuse the 'aheral of siding with the Valah despite our repeated denouncements of such libel. One man, possibly Alrasian or not, kicked me into the sky after insisting that he could identify me as a 'High Elf' despite my wearing armor and my voice being gritted from having to shelter myself while writing feverishly on the conflict."

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Dorim grunts, reading the poster. "Ah'm nae surprised tha' tha 'umans would s'nk th's low. Whelp, toime fer killin'!"

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Lorethos rubs under his scarred eye, holding Alexander Bedell's gift to him in his hands; Grand King Wulfgar's warax. 

 

"They just won't admit that we won no matter what it takes..." He shrugs, resting the ax on his desk. "No matter, they will have difficulty writing lies when their hands are chopped off."

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Finishes cleaning off the blood from his sword seeing the propaganda he thinks to himself "Well they fired from their cliff, they killed a good 4 or 5 Oren troops and were defeated by Oren troops, so I don't think we are siding with the scourge as we are not stupid enough to like the dwarves?"

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Grand King Wulfgar leans over a large map of the Fringe territories, as the news is delivered before him of the recent attack. Sighing, he clenches his gauntlet hand, resting it on the table as he begins to speak. 

 

"Suh it is be'oind all t'e loies n' deceit t'at t'e truth is revealed aftah all. T'e Crows would fall su' low as tu align 'emselves wit' t'e vereh evil weh 'ave baehn foightin' all t'ese yers. Ah alwehs 'ad mah doubts ov wut t'ey said ov Indago but t'is...  Gud men 'ave doied tu defend Anthos frum t'eir ilk. Aye, Oren will know ov t'eir mistake befur' t'e end."

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((really nice job on this, I'm impressed. I enjoyed the read. 10/10 would make hole in computer zsc=))

 

Dahnee waves around her waraxe and screams a battle cry, and then shoves a plateful of cookies and things in her hungry maw to feed the ever-growing orcish cubs in her belly, giggling. "Kruuuuuuuuuuuuug!~"

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