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A Charge, Broken.

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Goldrim

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The Winged Knight facepalms as he hears of people blatantly forgetting that Oren started the war by besieging Hiebenhall.

 

Paul weeps tears for the Winged Knight's lost sense.

 

"Remember Aesterwald....Remember Akovia...Remember Raevir Genocide and the great slapping......You're almost as silly as that one snelf guy, friendendino!!!" 

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You're almost as silly as that one snelf guy, friendendino!!!" 

"What in Dungrimm’s name did you just ******* say about my blessed Dwarven kindred, you little Orenian? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Kal'Ithrun Axe Throwing Academy. I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Orenian land and I have over 300 confirmed fade-to-black sessions. I am trained in pillaging and I am the top axe thrower in the Grand King’s shieldwall. You are nothing to me but just another peasant. I will murder you with savagery the likes of which has never been seen before on Athera, mark my ******* runes. You think you can get away with saying **** like that to my friends over birds and dialogue? Think again, Orenian. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of Dwedmar Legionnaires across Athera and your fiefs are being scouted right now so you’d better prepare for the storm, peasant. The storm that wipes out your pathetic little thing your call your kingdom. You’re ******* dead, yak-shagger. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over 700 hundred ways and that’s just with my beard. Not only am I extensively trained in facial combat, but I have access to the entire Dwarven armory and I will use it to it’s full extent to wipe your miserable arse off of Athera, you little ****. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little 'clever' comment was about to bring down upon you. Maybe you would have held your ******* tongue, but you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you Brathmordahkin-damned idiot! I will **** throwing weapons all over you and you will drown in them. You are ******* dead, kiddo. I will drink from your skull!" says Gundin Grandaxe.

 
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Artimec admires the purgatory lands of Forumania where warriors from both sides of the battle all have the means to talk **** at each other yet don't kill each other on sight.

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A deep sigh is let out of Seyer's mouth. He rolls eyes in disbelief on the amount of time the sides spend more time insult each other than killing each other.

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Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

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