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[Warclaim] Conquest Of Laureh'lin


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S'lith Elibar'tossair paces back and forth in the war tent they have set up, going over their coin and troops with a smile crossing his face. After word reached him of his brothers  plans things set in motion rather fast. He goes over their supplies with a firm nod before going back to focus on the war table and plans.

 

Zakir watches his nephew pace the war tent and put things into motion, before heading out to meditate under the watchful eye of the ancestors.

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An Adunian stands almost shooken up by the turn of events, "Well this is gettin' worse than World War Anthos."

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Elorna simply blinks in and pulls her infant child closer confusion as she hears this news. "What? Why?"

"I have no idea whats going on" Dwyn blinks, staring at the notice "...Where the nether did this come from, I don't even know these people and they are attacking? There's been no talk of war in the city, and all of a sudden there's this nonsense. If there's something they are unhappy about why don't they just -Oh I don't know- Try to solve the conflict without screaming and swinging blades." He tsks, rubbing a hand through his hair as he glances to his humble settlement outside the main city's walls "...****."

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"But when you kicked the high elves out, there was no diplomacy only weapons and swinging" Do'Kreshal states, before going back to make preperations.

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A young, dark skinned elf ponders. "If...if I remain and defend my only home, I'll be destroyed. If I flee, I will leave behind my home to shambles, betray everyone I've come to know here, but I will survive." The young elf immediately fidgets. "Can we...maybe, appease everyone?" Her head shakes to herself. "I'm so frightened."

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Novtorn wipes his brow, resting a hand on his axe as he takes a break from woodcutting, hearing the news. "That sounds troublesome."

 

---

 

Sunder sips on his cup of tea, his golden eye flickering a bit, as he hears about the whole ordeal. "Well... that is going to be mildly interesting. I hope they spare any books they find."

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Xath drew his gaze up as his closest friend and kin arrive behind him, muttering the words among one another as they stomped across the oak bridge. The avanite radiating a faint golden hue, imbued with minuscule pieces of glowstone. Xath's right arm lifted slightly, a warm breeze bellowing forth from the depths of his golden and ivory robes.
 

His faintly glowing eyes dulled, the room falling silent for several long moments until he spoke out in a soft, deep tone.

 

"Instead, they could be purging the Blight whilst they stand weak. Yet they fight amongst one another. I never expected anything less. However.. The Mali'ker creating this.. This'll most likely go down in history if they succeed. Yet, more innocent blood will be spilled defending their nation. May they dissolve this peacefully. May the original four, The Maker and the Divine's watch over them all."

 

And then, his hand then balled up, the golden object of what was hovering a few inches above his palm. He advances forth, shifting his artifacts and relics elsewhere. Resting the golden object upon an emerald stool.

 

golden_nebula_by_grimmjow962-d2zvh8h.png

Perrin Ferioli sends word to Yimatu, offering his top tier steel sword for the battle! The note also states he is willing to lend five sets of chainmail, a chest full of jagged swords (Around 6 damage to 10/20%), potions and some iron if they accept his offer.

 

Ryneth, however would be rotting in the caverns of the Mali'ker, disgusted with the Oussana and the  Dark Elves residing within the caverns that he had commited suicide. He had forced himself to fall over and smack his head against the wet stone down by the water-fall.

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"But when you kicked the high elves out, there was no diplomacy only weapons and swinging" Do'Kreshal states, before going back to make preperations.

 

"There were years of discussions with the Aheral, denied reforms, ignored requests. We tried, specifically Elorna and Phaedrus, for years to internally make changes, to make it a better place for our people that the Aheral called lesser" Dwyn blinks, frowning "We all lived in Annil'sul for years before any talk of violence started, we never wanted to fight, or take over the city, and still we offer a place for Mali'Aheral to live in the city if they wish."

 

"Unlike this damn conflict going on, we didn't go straight to blades."

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Salazar sips his tea quietly, a large bundle of papers sitting on a table next to him. "This shall be most interesting."

 

 

Avgust sneezes. He shakes his head and takes a sip of warm mead and smiles at the news, "Damn wood elves get whats coming to them."

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Arinislia stands high up on a stretched out branch of the Father Tree. Her silver colored eyes gazing down upon the elven city of Laureh'lin. Her lips part as her hand grips her carved birch wood staff ever so slightly. "Children...." she would whisper, her voice angelic and soft though the tone sounding disappointed. Her face unreadable as she continue gazing down upon the city before slightly shaking her head. Her body turning slowly around before walking back down the branch. A faint hoot being heard high up in the leaves above her as a pure white owl takes flight, flying off to the south.

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Mark hums as he overhears the news repeatedly.

 

"If it were me, I would scuttle the city, move it's components and resources to another location, and have there be no city to conquer. Afterwards build a bigger and not as poorly designed city or let the sophisticates have their dirt. Although I know I am a bit more spiteful than the Elves that currently reside in Annil'Sul."

 

He says to himself as he walks, before chuckling.

 

"It's entertaining how they are so adamant on their will to subjugate others that they would rather go to war than give up the Silver Law and move in with the other Elves. Their hunger for power is only surpassed by their savagery and murderous tendencies. I wonder if that little city will even survive to the end of this century..."

 

He leaves himself to his pondering, humming all the while.

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Mark hums as he overhears the news repeatedly.

 

"If it were me, I would scuttle the city, move it's components and resources to another location, and have there be no city to conquer. Afterwards build a bigger and not as poorly designed city or let the sophisticates have their dirt. Although I know I am a bit more spiteful than the Elves that currently reside in Annil'Sul."

 

He says to himself as he walks, before chuckling.

 

"It's entertaining how they are so adamant on their will to subjugate others that they would rather go to war than give up the Silver Law and move in with the other Elves. Their hunger for power is only surpassed by their savagery and murderous tendencies. I wonder if that little city will even survive to the end of this century..."

 

He leaves himself to his pondering, humming all the while.

 

"All elves are savages," chimes in Mithras Sylvari. 

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Weston sharpens his sword, looking up at the stars "Bloody high elves, now I have to beat their hides back." He smirks, with a chuckle he says "I'll quite enjoy that."

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((Much of this is no longer valid. Can remove/close/whatever for now, and see what happens in RP.))

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