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DENUNCIATION OF THE MURDERERS FROLICKING IN THE ELVENESSI PENINSULA


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The clad warlord sauntered into the gates of Krug, welcomed by his orcish comrades. Behind the vestiges of his dragonish glare, consumed by fumes of ash from ebon dragonscale, he prosit in health to the Archdrakaar whilst chugging a filled seidel. 

 

“To war again and back; let they see us — the Iblees-spawn they call, is it not?” Eluitholnear hissed.

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A mali sits by a long-extinguished pyre, gaze upon the ashes as he laments the loss of kin.

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Otho de Vaisery looks over the missive with a wide smile. The human dragging his blade across a whetstone as he speaks to himself "Perhaps I could recreate the acts of my father and uncle, what a glorious moment it would be" Otho then moves to his feet with a loud clank of the metal plates on his frame, moving off.

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Urza looks about the clinic, sighing heavily as she reads the missive "Zkah, thah Laetraniz zkaher juz' ztartehd ah war." she mumbles, "Ah need tah foind Nemea, zhe iz ihn pehril... ZKAH!" she exclaims once more, growing increasingly worried for her loved ones as she lifts her bag to her shoulder to find Nemea.

 

 

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“Time to ruin the Elvenesse reputation in Providence!” Alyssa Seregon commented with a grin, seemingly joking as she spoke. Afterwards, the mail’ would simply put a wide, red, X, with their marker. The woman would be marking off the whole realm of Elvenesse to visit or to travel to.

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Athri lightly chuckled to herself. This doesn't concern her, but word of a war that may or may not happen excites her nonetheless. "Perhaps there shall be a different war before the impending holy war among the humans."

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"Reprobates..." The normally introverted Velu'Asath clan head looked to the letter; his Velulaei'onn and Ravexi blood boiling beneath a methodical surface.

 

The Mali'ker Prince looked as his architects worked and his clan lived freely and defiantly the so called State of Elven kind. Vival grinned thinking on the author of the letter "I quite like this ones enthusiasm." He grinned as he moved on preparing for the coming storm. 

 

 

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As the missive reached the Lioness that dwelled within the Father Grove, the words spoken upon the parchment released a sudden burst of primal druidic energies that was held inside the Druidess. The darkened sanguine glow reflected within the golden irises in a swirling mix of anger, hatred, and the feeling of solace towards her old mentor. A deep breath would then release from her lips, quelling some of the rage within as she then proceeds to step foot outside the city and into the Wilds for some time. "Ellaurir ay'Ame, kae Mahae nae sanere. Cerun okansaen'ehya ito heya'leh myumin, kaean nae'leh Sirame ahern'onn adonterae, iyul kaean hiylun myumierae. Marhiylun maehae'onn, nae'leh iheiuhii il'kae ahera." The Tresery would murmur in prayer. 

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The Elverhilin Patriarch read over the missive, before beginning to pen one of his own. He has not forgotten the betrayal of his kin. 

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Rash were his actions, spurned by hate. It was once his own kin facing such sentiment...I did not wish to see such again. Oh my nephew, would that I could have protected you from this reckless hate that has taken hold in your heart...A tiny redhead set out from the gates, wandering through the dark pine forests of the Hinterlands. Her direction unknown, steps weary. Scarred and crimson inked fingers gripping tightly to the staff of bone she leaned upon. Coming to a cliff top, the woman paused, letting out a slow breath before setting to work on creating an altar.May the Hunter accept Vulen into his forests. And Siss’siru guide you back from the brink of hate, my nephew.

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Faeryel pens a short note to the sender of the missive.

"Kairn,

Should you need anything particularly nasty for the execution of justice, don't hesitate to contact me! My services remain at your disposal.

Faithfully yours,

Faeryel."

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10 minutes ago, Toodles78 said:

Faeryel pens a short note to the sender of the missive.

"Kairn,

Should you need anything particularly nasty for the execution of justice, don't hesitate to contact me! My services remain at your disposal.

Faithfully yours,

Faeryel."

 

The armored figure discreetly made his way up to his aviary and begin to devise a letter to reach Faeryel in the coming days. Yes, there was much work to be done in pursuing the execution of justice and the Bronze Lord was in her debt. 

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4 hours ago, Zarsies said:

A hungry vampire rubs her hands together at the thought of an intraracial war.

 

A second hungry vampire joined the womans side, lips spread in a grin as Lori crookedly croaked, "I should start getting into politics more. Oh, how exciting!" She errupted into a multitude of claps thereafter.

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Horvath takes a break from tending his solemn fields of wheat as he reads the missive shaking his head before muttering.

 

"What an issue, now where do I sign up to kill the elves?" 

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