YOUR DEVOIR IS TO PAY TRIBUTE

[bravery 899]

Viviam Maelstorm, the Sovereign of Talon's Port, stared at the missive, before daring to take a walk over to Elvenesse, staring intently at the city. ".....Why would you do this to yourselves, man."

[Apollonous 144]

Apollyon Snowell could be seen through the window of her home, laying butter onto two pieces of bread as she made herself a sandwich. Suddenly she felt a shiver down her spine and looked around, the thought of some idiot somewhere purposely jumping to conclusions to satisfy their own thirst for blood came over her, though, the elfess thought nothing of it and rolled her shoulders into a shrug as she continued the making of her delicious to-be BLT.

[Muddy_Buddy 243]

Biug'Ruk would begin crunching on rocks upon hearing the news "Biug wil klomp aht leazt gakh twigiez..." he says to himself.

[Burnsider 4542]

Zugha'Gorkil, his dark skin made even darker by soot and ash, worked tirelessly deep under Krugmar, at his forge. "Dey Twigiez wil no da ztrenff uv ar rezulv matchez da ztrenff uv ar zteel!" The sound of his hammer would not cease throughout the night.

[Squiggles 77]

Nin read the missive, her voice echoing throughout the cave of ungri as she informed the ologs of the upcoming battle. Blood would be spilled before the shrines, the ungri stoves lit, and armors prepared. There was a whole lot to do in a short amount of time, but Nin was the grukker and she would see her pack through it all.

[The Media Wizard 2954]

Amaesil Vuln'miruel leans against the trunk of the tree with his legs dangling over the edge. One hundred feet below, the clatter of a wagon down the old forest road echoes throughout the branches. A slow exhale escapes the wood elf as he reads over the damp missive — the rain clouds departing the woodlands for now.

 

Amaesil folds the parchment over one time and rests it inside a nearby nook in the bark. He slides his right knee up to his chest and turns his brown eyes west to the setting sun. The fading rays of light warm his cheeks and forehead as he thinks in silence. The sweet smell of cooking deer soon wafts up to his nose and he stretches out his arms.

 

The elf turns his eyes in the direction of the Uruk city. Even at this distance, the smoke stacks could be seen. Another sigh escapes him before sauntering down the branches with his elven longsword at his side.

[Shmeepicus 3942]

Kultha'Gorkil smiles, tusks jutting over his upper-lip, ready to finally return to the War Nation of Krugmar. He heaved up his blade and began the long walk back home.

[Vilebranch 280]

Skorkon'Ugluk 'the Bull' recieves word of the Dominus' actions via letter. The Uruk looms over the contents of the paper from the confines of his hovel, secluded from Orcish society since the sudden ascent of the Golden Rex. 

"Mi muzt prepare azh offerin' tu Enrohk. May diz konflikt ezcalate intu true wagh. Nub eny Uruk zhould be forzed tu ekzperienze da agoni of Peaze for zo long azh tik."

Edited April 19, 2021 by Vilebranch