THE GOOD, THE BALD, AND THE UGLY

[Mickaelhz 3752]

The Good, The Bald, And The Ugly

“..And you’ll be remembered as always, brother of the dwarves.”

[OOC] Very important music for aesthetic purposes :

Spoiler

 

It has been many years since an Ireheart sat on the obsidian throne. Yet despite decades passing, a legacy goes unweathered. No cracks, no crevices. The only thing fading is the golden color of the beard of a rather heroic figure. 

Hearing his name is like catching wind of a mythical creature clad in coal-black scales soaring over the city. One might have even spotted a stout dwarf upon his back, a sight generated by only the mighty Kjellos before Imperials had elven ears. Truly better times. 

 

“Who is this aurum-beared man?”

 “Why have I not found a single book about him in my umri library?”

 

It is because history is written by the victors, and no Imperial who dared cross Utak Ireheart has lived to tell the tale. Let this letter serve as a little reminder that the current Orenian lineage is only in place because we allowed them to sprout from but ashes and dust. We brought them to their knees, begging for their lives. We allowed them to continue their measly little Empire of facades and frauds. The steps of Tal’Short remember, I remember. We allowed them to go on, bedding their sisters as if it was a sport. Breeding like rats. 

It’s time for the sons of Urguan to turn back the years, going back to said times. To when wars lasted but three months. To when Imperials wore plates, not wigs. To when every dwarf united under a single banner for the first time in a multitude of stone years. To when the uttering of 2 words could make an entire Empire rethink their political decisions. 

“Yemekar’s Balance.”

Let the orange and grey cloak our grandiose legion and shield them from a premature grace of Dungrimm’s grasp. No wig shall go unclaimed, not a singular additional drip of Urguan’s blood shall be spilled under my guidance.  

 

…A legacy goes unweathered. No cracks, no crevices. As Dungrimm stands with Urguan, King Ulfric (@Terry), so do I.

 

 

Signed by your dearest friend,

Utak Ireheart, Founder of The Present Grand Kingdom of Urguan and Uniter of The Dwarves

 

[gandalfo 1413]

Atandt Irongrinder would smile upon hearing the news.

Edited December 4, 2021 by gandalfo

[Terry 1859]

Grand King Ulfric would be off at some unknown cabin in the mountains, in-between the writing and receiving of many letters. After dispatching more letters to his Grand Marshal and Commanders, he'd stop, having taken his only break of the night. It was during this time, that a loud and anxious knocking came from his front door, much different from the usual. "Simply another courier," he thought, though it only took a second for him to realize that this dwed bore a different letter than the rest.

 

It was with this that he quickly took the letter, newfound energy seemingly manifesting itself within him, and took to reading it. He'd give it a once-over, then another, and another. He'd smile to himself afterwards, saying only three words.

 

"So, et begins." 

 

 

[Elite Snipes 3542]

Bakir Ireheart would look at the missive, seeing his old friend return to fight a common enemy "Utak, my brother and my friend. We shall lead together and ensure victory, for not only our clan. But for Urguan"

 

Edited December 4, 2021 by Elite_Snipes_

[Willstertheking2 1101]

Levian'Tol Grandaxe can't help but to mumbled "Based" under his breath. "Now es teh true toime ov wig-takin."

[SimplySeo 5183]

Jorvin Starbreaker was content to enjoy retirement. Like any patriotic Dwarf, he'd do his part when the time, there'd be no doubting that, but he'd felt old, he'd felt like he'd put in his pound of flesh, even though technically he was still in the prime of his life.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago when he was a simple Legionnaire, standing his silent watch over a half-empty half-built shell of a hold, carved out on the furthest edges of human territory, as that blighted race had nearly driven his folk to extinction.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago when their resurgent people struck a terrible blow against Horen's parasitic children. When human settlers encroached on their sovereign land, and in turn, in three months Dwarvish soldiers marched into the Imperial Throne room, Jorvin among them.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago when he, as a vengeful king with much to prove, launched a bloody war against Oren, and bled their people white. He would have burned Helena itself to the ground had it not been for the neverborn invasion consuming the rest of his reign in a deluge of fire.

 

After three wars, Jorvin thought that the Orenians would've learned not to trouble his folk, he dared to think they had learned their lesson...His mistake he supposed. However, Jorvin never expected the Orenians to so grievously insult his people that Utak would return. And so, Jorvin thought back on his long and storied history with the man before finally stating.

 

"Fire ah'nd damnation, someone needs tae keep ah'n eye oan tha' half-blind, self-absorbed gloreh 'og. Where's my axe?"

[Taketheshot 3834]

Joseph d'Azor clears his throat as he called down to the bandits as they ran off. "Scoreboard....."

[mika1278 2674]

Mika Uialben smiles at the missive before him, giving it a solid nod for his old king during times of his exile from Sutica "It is about time" he chuckled as he raised his drink into the sky from his balcony watching over the seas "We'll see where the story goes" he then took a good swig from his drink as he continued to enjoy his day

[Rhewen 348]

Volden Frostbeard reads the missive with a wide grin "Legen's return as nuw 'uns 're born, aye."

He continues work on his blueprints in dim candlelight, enthused to fight with warriors of yore.

[The Harbinger 336]

"A bloodeh goo' idea." Glod muttered as he finished reading: "Orenia's jus' nee' Tae retur' tae a toim wher' tey cou' be respected, an no' jus be a bun' of idio' in wigs"

 

 

[Legoboy7984 2441]

Agnar ireheart smirks upon reading the letter.

 

May we ride toget'er and slaug'ter t'ese Orenians d'at attacked our kin

[Pancho 2497]

Kosher Fier is inspired by the moving missive. “If I were an Orenian, I’d by shaking in my wig right now”

[AlaricGrimgold 398]

Alaric read the words as if they came from a dream. Utak had been the greatest King of the Fourth Grand Kingdom in his eyes, a legacy of victory and conquest he shared with the Grimgold Clan. Through years of continued dedication to the King, Utak rose the young clan to a Senate position and gave them a chance. Now, almost two hundred years later it was time for the debt to be repaid.

 

Setting down the sheet of paper, Alaric tucked his Golden hair and burned flesh into the cold steel rings of his coif and pulled his helmet and mask over his face. With a firm huff, he stated strongly. “Grimgold Commandos. Now comin’ to an Orenian tavern near ye.”

[KBR 1484]

Schmebulock Irongrinder rubbed his belly as he went to find his old friend Utak.

[Rat Hat 612]

The wide elf frowned, The Harbinger fidgeting with the bloodied locket that dangled over the missive as he scanned it over with squinted eyes that flared an unnaturally red hue.

 

"Kjell Ireheart." He mumbled. "That's a name I don't like t' hear."

 

He paused a bit.

 

"Unless Kjell n' Kjellos 'r two different guys- I'unno. Point stands." He grunted, pushing himself out of his seat. 

"Ah well, th' blood of Orenians'll be spillt once more. Narvak oz Urguan. Death and Glory."