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Dobrov Burns


Lhindir_
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[!] The county of Dobrov, set alight in malefic and blackened flame.

Gravelord Nito - Dark Souls Soundtrack

 


 

It began, as all fell tales do, with a rider in black. A single warning, for the sleepy county of the Carrion line - four silhouettes upon the horizon, a doomsayer of things yet to come saddled upon a pale steed. Soon then, under the light of the waning moon, was it joined by others - hordes of aberrations, growling and groaning all the same, bound in servitude and eternal suffering to a king in crimson which led the host of the damned. Foul incantations were spoken and supplications to darker powers offered; women and children huddled scared under thatched roofs and the guardsmen assembled to try and mount some measure of defense against the horrors to come. 

 

The horde was upon them quicker than they realized. In vain were heroic defenses carried out, the fight taken to the blackened masses, but it was not enough. Men and women alike were slain by the score in the streets, shambling corpses setting the houses alight and hulking aberrations sending walls to crumble down. The waters of the lake turned an inky black, a gaping rift in the earth swallowing the waters and spiriting them away to an endless abyss - nature howling in pain as trees and plants withered from the blight visited upon Carrion soil, brought low by most wicked malediction. 

 

The dawn soon broke, and the riders left - the County of Dobrov laid low, burnt and brought down around the still-standing statue of Ostromir Carrion. All that remained was blood, ash, and the sorrow of the horrific tragedy that had been visited upon the city. 

 

2022-04-24_20.25.08.png

 

Ty to alty for writing this

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Corbin Wick, Viscount of Reau Pond, wonders where his vassalized water feature of Dobrov will rest next...

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A Lord of the Shore frowned upon the destruction that was wrought - but it drifted off, knowing that all would return to whence it came, eventually. Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust. 

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A foreign figure hums a lost melody, a lullaby to himself; scant comfort whilst leading a forsaken and deformed mule down a winding road, through and through the woodlands to watch the blaze for himself, laying a flickering lantern and weathered documents beside him- he watched the kindled pyre light the horizon in hellish hues of smoke and agony. “What d’you think?” He queried to the sickened and limp equestrian, which let out a burbling and sickened neigh of hatred and lament, to which the man tutted silently. “Come now, it is a warmth in the night- be grateful, beastly thing.”

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A Wonk dies protecting his town, more specifically, Castle EVIL.

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A young crow beams pridefully. 

 

Spoiler

image.thumb.jpeg.b32769351dd83b94181b77f0cb364e13.jpeg

 

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a bearded man gazes over the burning city. Having fled out of the house to the hills. Debating on finding a new home with the city turning to ash. 

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At the news of Dobrov's seeming demise, Stannik Kovachev writes to Ser Adrezj, the Baron of Cherskavy. Perhaps this newly forsaken county will pique his interest. 

 

@Geckoo

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Among the ash and smoke of the calamitous ruins, a solitary rider in silver and ivory delivers his message. The only  sign of his presence would become the sighting of a knightly rider, a halo of silver fire encircling his head.

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