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Battle-Report: I


Evonpire
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Battle-Report: I


 

The Druids of Atoll have asked for our aid, and thus we answer. The Azdrazi- The Wicked Spawn of the Accursed Titan- have long terrorized their Grove. Though I am ignorant to their reasoning for doing so, it does not matter, as I truly do not have a single care for it. My disdain for our age-old enemies outclasses any mundane hatred that anyone could possibly have- Yet, when I encountered them at the Grove, I was sorely disappointed in their meager defense and resolve! Let it be known the ‘mighty’ Azdrazi and their followers hid behind a Witch, who slung spells from the Voidal Plane! Desperately she conjured a fireball at His Chosen and their Druidic allies in a mad scramble to flee the scene, failing to accomplish anything meaningful.

 

Shame! Shame! Shame! Are these the same fearsome beasts that they claim to be? Or are they small lizards, who hide behind their words- Perhaps the only thing their ancestor was good for; They post bounties after Druids, instead of seeking them out themselves? Are they afraid of the fight, or have they grown lazy, failing to see their grasp on power slowly crumble under them as the world begins to fight against their cause. This is absolute comedy! Do not forget Elvenesse, where their “Father”, the Accursed Titan, Azdromoth fled in the presence of Order, and his chaos was repelled by the combined might of this world!

 

His words, coy. His threats, empty

 

The Azdrazi will be defeated. 

 

 digress, but let it be known on this day, the Azdrazi and their Arcane allies fled at the approach of His Chosen and their allies. When next they appear, they will not be so fortunate as to escape my wrath again.

 

“Salvation is our Liturgy”

 

 


-The Warhawk

 

Spoiler

Hey, just wanted to clarify this is my Character’s thoughts on the whole situation and is not reflective of my ooc outlook on anyone involved in it. 
 

I wrote this in like 30 minutes on a caffeine high, this is my diss track

 

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Elsewhere, the fires of industry roared in defiance - for the beast was woken...

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Haskir remembers witnessing the wild spell of a dragon priest's wicked arcane staff erupting the bridge of those who'd assaulted -- paladins, wizards, and a single druii or two, all thrown in which-every-direction from the impact. His memory was brief, for the translocation of a warlock brought him cascading nearest a titanic turnip -- how strange, and stomach-churning. Wicked was damnation's blight this day, only saddening for a moment as Haskir realized he was one potion lighter after the conflict.

 

"When will they pay?" He queries to himself after boarding the boat at the nearby beach, "Maybe never."

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"Like children they fight, and like children they cry!" Emboldened yet amused words were thence roared aloud, by that very insidious Witch - of Embers - as though she retreated, having dismantled an entire cavalry of false followers amidst the very lands of the Grove!

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