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Lemon: with a side of salt. (PK)


jdesarno
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A man is fit to choose their own destiny as they see fit, however this one chose abysmally. 

 

The day were fine as any other, the sea: roared life, the dream to explore, the thrill of adventure! Would've been preferable

   A looming monstrous beast lay wait for the party

The touch down upon the beaches, the movement of coin, bellowing taverns, the glory of the field! Deemed attractive to all suitors

Burning flesh and screams ring out in his mind, the last thing Bjorn heard before the blast of debris and the crack of his ribs against the cindering hillside

This one, however, choose extremely poorly, and is bound to hospital bed in coma, looking similarly to a half roasted chicken. 

Body burnt to cinders, cooked alive in his armor, third degree burns litter the dwarves body, reducing hair to ashes, hope to despair

Burns and blisters, fragments of metal, debris of burnt wood and deformed machinery clung to the Dwarf's skin alike.

Thy slayer's name is 'The Onyx harbingrumm'

death: would've been a preferable alternative, Bjorn lives on, as a half baked chicken nugget, not a single hair on his chest!. . his beard reduced to ashes.

The dwarf has seen better days and if given a choice would've been better off with some lemon. . and a pinch of salt. 

Bjorn's conciousness fades, lost to the void.

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Cause of Incapacitation and very likely death: Dragonfire. . and a whole load of malpractice

 

Should've brought a dragon-fire shield. Poor Bastard. 

 

If only they didn't insult that damn things. . yee yee lookin cut.

 

Just wanted to. . make Urguan great again. .

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Ivar sat at the bed side of his life long friend.
Head in hand he shed a tear as he looked up his pale face trembling as he drew cold firm breath his scream echoing throughout Norland 

 "BJOOOOOOORN!"

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mica being also burnt badly lies in the urguan clinic, patched and wrapped well, in a small shaky voice "me clan bother, i wish i could've help ye mer, may anabella keep ye" 

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Having been only a few feet away from the incident that led to this, Ulfric utters one sentence. "May Anabelle keep ye, and may yeh foind your way back teh us all in one piece lad..."

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Levian'Tol Grandaxe would cart Bjorn Grandaxe's corpse back to Urguan cursing whoever caused this with every step on his long journey across Almaris.

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Sylvia Camian, who managed to survive the incident purely by virtue of luck, lay in her bed and cursed the pain of her injuries. In the coming months of recovery, she would swear vengeance against the beast.

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Dhaen Grandaxe, Queen Regent, leans wearily on the railings of a stone balcony far above the city. She furrows her brow melancholically at the sights of mourning from Grandaxes in the streets at the loss of one of their kin, a lazy trail of smoke dripping from a cigarette held in her frown. The ginger dwarf methodically puts it out and turns away.

 

She did not know the young Grandaxe who was her kin by blood and clan, but she could tell he was beloved by the clan - even if he was braised and slightly sauteed.

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