DEMAND FOR RECOMPENSE

[D3F4LT 1026]

Sleepy Elronian wakes up from his hybernation as he hears the birds sing cheerfully. "Alreade'?" he'd say to his mockingjay while grabbing his leather tunic. "well... i got to find my boots and sword init... "he'd shake his head looking around the cave he slept, leaving his trusted cave in direction of Hangmen keep.

[Guest]

 

 

Gudour bears his fangs and draws his warhammer in preparation for the fighting that is to come. He canted his head to the side whilst regarding the missive with his fiery eyes.

 

"The weak are meat and the strong do eat." 

[Valannor 6405]

Hoarfrost would gaze upon the multitude of big and small fleshlings marching through its territory, tilting in its head in confusion from its treetop perch. With the song of communion, it would send out waves of confusion and lack of understanding, but would receive no answer.

[someome 2053]

A curious sort in the trees takes heed, and watches the beginnings of the pointless squabbles of a dying land..

[Archangelic 212]

A lone worshipper of the Great Titan - Chiefest of all Dragonkin - sat upon a pedestal. Upon her lap, she brandished a steel longsword forged by the Inquisitor Eternal, Eluitholnear. Her green-hued orbs settled to her front, prepared to pry penance against the denizens of Aegrethond and Siramenor.

“In the name of the Firstborn of Dragur, let us kill these scum and rid them from the lands!” She raised her longsword into the air, standing before a small shrine; the large boulder to her front engraved with worship towards Azdromoth.

[Jentos 9422]

 "**** the elves. **** their rotten cores - riddled with sin. Riddled with lies. Let them rot, let their souls spoil in nothing." 

So called Gamling, golden eyes flickering furiously as he scanned through the parchment paper almost dismissively - careless for fact, but desiring for retribution, and the sound of flaring, firing cannons, the scream of the wounded, and the smell of men soiling themselves. For that was what it meant to be alive, to live through the glorious atrocities of a battlefield, and to carry a heart filled with ire. 

[mika1278 3213]

Narb a.k.a. Timmy of the hangman group spots the signature of the hanged man, starting to pack his things and prepare for a battle against aegrothond like a good soldier would.

[Werew0lf 24180]

Eluitholnear turned to his comrades, furrowing his brow. "I guess they can hang out at the citadel!" He snarled out towards his many heralds and fellow brothers, arms folding over his torso. Eventually, he takes ahold of a cigarette - placing it betwixt his lips and exhuming ash from his maw. 

[Masouri 2735]

“At t’e end ov t’is ah t’ink elgi wit’ nae pointeh ears will beh t’e new trend.”

[Liv 485]

Malus of the Hangmen smiles out in joy as the Plant Hangman shimmers around in a giddy self "Oh boy oh boy oh boy. I see Hangman signing. Better get my dancing shoes on" the sun shinning brightly upon this brightly coloured figure as a hood is raised covering her head the uniform of a proper hangman noob

[Evonpire 2014]

"I do wonder..." Aer'dir pondered, reading the missive in his Aegrothondi home. "Do those horns of yours make good ornaments? My helmet seems to be missing something, a nice pair of Azdrazi horns could just be it?" He pondered to himself, placing the missive downward on a counter. Reaching to his side as he picked up a rather translucent tea cup, taking a small sip from it - a pleasant earthy smell resonating from the cup. "I do suppose I should hurry up on getting that hammer.." Aer'dir released an "Ah" noise from his mouth as he took another sip of tea, delicious.

[yandeer 734]

 

Renowned dragon woman and Justice Judithe Linsheind fanatic Midnetora takes a moment away from her manic-obsessive stonecarving to go rifle through her box of tools- miraculously stumbling upon her ancient Atheran elf-ear clippers as she does so. 

 

"Huh," murmured the Azdrazi, examining the long-forgotten implement closely.

 

"Well, shouldn't let those go to waste."

[shortchangehero 4217]

It was around midnight, the room mostly dark, the exception being a dim light from a half-burned candle located on a feeble wooden table. On the center of the table was a scabbard, arming sword inside. Near the edge of that table stood an Adunian man by the name of Reynault, who blankly stared down at a missive clutched in his cut and scarred hands.

 

About ten minutes passed.

 

A visibly irritated Reynault grit his teeth and crumpled up the paper before hurling it aside. The paper hit a wall accompanied by some faint sound. Reynault grabbed the sheathed blade from the table and stormed out the room.

 

About two minutes passed.

 

Reynault stormed back into the room hurling the same sheathed blade at a wall, "****!" The sword hit the wall accompanied by some loud noise. 

 

Outside Imperial banners flapped with the wind from Helena's mighty walls.

[Slayy 816]

The blind woman simply seemed to slowly read over the missive. Turning in the direction towards that of the woods. "Hubris befalls most men until they are deep in the grave... War is grand for the reaper, not the body."

[TimberBuff 2381]

Curiosity within the walls, the crowd, the treetops. The folly of man, and the pride of dragons.