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Fall of the King [PK]


The Media Wizard
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Talim enjoys his well earned frog legs. "How strange his entourage claimed to know nothing of the Vale, then called it Miven town.. and what strange customs do the frog people hold.. posing in the shape of a T.." The Elf thought on as he finished the delectable meal. "Who could hold such a grudge against the Vale, I shall have to consult my mali kin.."

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Swog would currently be making food, a fresh fruit salad in fact, however upon hearing the new's the gobbo would stop. The messenger looked at the malnourished creature, and for the first time, a single tear was shed for the Wonk. "Latz waz da hozhest King ov da Kinder Goi........"Sniffling, he would thwack a bandaged arm to his chest. Nodding at no one in particular.  "Mai latz drink da grog, and lead da B teem from da Zki, Froggie" 

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"Holy hell." Aerendyl murmurs as he looks up from his reading, catching a glimpse of the chase from his easy rest in the Mother Grove. He watches the chase with a feeling of curiosity that suddenly melted into a gnawing, nauseating feeling as he realizes what was transpiring.

 

"Holy hell..." He adds again, disturbed, as the glorious wonk falls at the shining spears of Miven's favored.

 

"I don't think it's a good idea to follow through with that suggestion to visit the Vale to paint..." the druid murmurs to himself, looking back down to his book. It was a suggestion from someone he trusted that had come and gone from the Vale freely, and promised that the people were welcoming. He genuinely did plan to visit and bring his easel, but the idea that even an easygoing creature is eligible for such a gruesome, hateful death left more than a sour taste in his mouth.

 

"Even the high elves would be more welcoming, I'd wager." 

 

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“. . . I don’t even know what to say about this. . . It’s sad to say that yet another friend has fallen. We may have not spoken as much in the past, but I do remember the days he would come up to visit the Grove. The good old days.” The Druid sighed at that, hearing of the Wonk’s death and offering a moment of silence afterwards.

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RIP King Elmer Puddlefoot. I pray there are plenty of flies for him to eat in the afterlife.

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