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A Sorrow Filled Apology


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From her hilltop home, 

a letter of apology appears on doorsteps of homes around the kingdom,

In scratchy handwriting crawled down the page,

 

“My dear friends, clan members, proud citizens of Urguan and its holdings, 

With deep sorrow in my heart and with the utmost grievance I apologise to the Grandaxe clan and Urguan as a whole.

Due to a severe lapse in judgement I oversaw the dangers I walked into with my clan brother and beardling Bjorn Grandaxe. Thus, he paid the ultimate price for my poor judgement.

And with that i accept any and all punishments for this most shameful of mistakes.

Though my condition is not the best, I am willing and open to all questioning from relevant parties, including and not limited to; The High Council and its members, The Medical Guild, The Grandaxe family as a whole.

From there I would like to express my gratitude and thanks to the Frostbeard clan and their member Ulfric Frostbeard, for bringing me home and healing me after the incident. Without his quick thinking and strength i would not be here today.

I would also like to extend the similar sentiment to the Grimgold clan and its member Valandrys Grimgold, without her extensive medical expertise and calmness I would be more afflicted by my burns.

 

I thank the kingdom as a whole for their time and patience.

Apologies again,

Mica Grandaxe

 

Below the main text in semi neat printed handwriting.

 

If you are looking to question mica please send a bird or visit her at H-7, hefrumm.

Please give her ample time if she is summoned to a meeting as she is unable to move quickly for the time being. 

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“Et es toime tu get t’e full storeh.” He’d grumble while reading the story of the death of Bjorn, “T’is will nae beh t’e foirst toime e son ov Kjellos ‘unted e dragon.”

Edited by Masouri
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Thumbrindal Grandaxe reads the letter before looking at the sunrise wondering if Bjorn made it safely to the Halls of Khaz'a'Dentrumm, he'd nod as he grabbed his owl shaped smoking pipe. "T'e fault 'ere is not yers, ye maed a choice wit' t'e ot'e brot'es of t'e clan t'at caem wit' ye... a choice t'at ye cannot redo or set roig't, ye can onle' learn from it as t'ats 'ow we should move forward... blamin yerself isnt usefull as t'ey all knew t'e risks." He'd say to himself on a hill far away from anyone to hear him sing, he'd start taking puffs from his pipe and wonder if others will judge the same as he did.

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Aghuid Ireheart sat in his clan hall, inside the armory. He ran his hand up and down the haft of his Lunarite battle axe. Gripping the tanned wood elf hide that made up the wrapping. Staring up at the dragon tooth that hangs in the armory, that was hung there originally by Kjell himself. With a chomp on his cigar and exhale of smoke fr his mouth, the only words to escape him “anot’eh day, anot’eh ‘ead for Clan Oir’eart!”

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