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ᛞᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛏᛟ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾᚴᛁᚾ

“A dwarf never forgets.”


CLEANSING OF THE DRAGONKIN


No descendant has come close to the combined feats of Yavoks kin. Yavok Ireheart, the founder of the clan, purged  dark beings haunting the caves of his home. Kjell the Dragonslayer, slaying multiple dragons himself, set the precedent for the later generations of khronammoruk.


With a Dragon attack on the capital of the dwarves, and the attack on the King of the Dwarves in the Haense tavern, the threat of the Dragonkin and Azdromoth grows greater. The Dragon-worshippers taint the land they touch and associates of Khorvad and Iblees cannot be ignored as they move to undermine the ideals and places we’ve all fought for.

The Irehearts grow tired of the repeated slights by the sons of Azdromoth by tainting dwarven lands and the repeated attacks on Urguans kin, the repeated seizing of Urguani land from the Paladins and the deals with Iblees.  For this, the combined Elders of Clan Ireheart and the Clan Father of the Irehearts make a bloodpact to fully cleanse this land from the spawn of Iblees.

To those who live in the old ruins of Dol’Gorix at the foot of the volcanic mountains. You will have two stone days to remove your belongings off our sacred land or blood will once more be split in reclamation.

Kav un anakrun yol zahere.

Do not test our patience. 


Signed,
R3paxV1fFI-NUheHCMGm6jJLviynMyuxmvejrIbNIDDf_nEjl6vGh9nT6y2WyTZTofsBAA5VpSC_mBOaBcAMyVD1ioEfLZJ2eb5l3O3d5wDXugyZxYjiZg0f-h6MwouziI9vPH1F936hM8Dy7g
Clan Father of the Irehearts, Champion of the Wilds.
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Elder of the Irehearts, Bane of the Orcs, Bane of Philip III
yLx9V6ETfgnZc_lYyeZURT_hz8x3tqDAbLqbzTltPR1T-7mYH8JHr2UJgAbuoPwaW9a1ZxQfmLE14ii2iprDDLCn4pwwMLhTo0qDXZGXo2yRV3EupOpMc57p0J3nsXWb4lXIJiX12dZ6UkVlvw
Elder of the Irehearts, Commander of the Legion.
tyotN1Gy9nZos_wTmzGtzPYw9gaZon6si22_1RLr5jz_krcLIOCDkEa8mptTat-rUj2L4rhk_QTK3on6ya5yLfBp1iTtxP9DZ5VXiDFwOxjG-H_ADxQY_aCZm-TszO-rQTJRk7gpH9dVbpGuWA
Elder of the Ireheasrts, Certified Dragon Tracker

 

 

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Durin Hammerforge mounts his mechanical metal snail and prepares to ride into the battle "T'ey will regret killin meh donkeh!" 

Edited by Tabby64
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"I hate to say it but, those Dragon's attacking your city are not from our doing." spoke a Nephilim to the dwarves around him.

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Jorvin Starbreaker slams his fist down in approval. "Kavir oz da Az'drakkimar! Tha' wyrmkin 'ave wronged us."

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"May the proud warriors of Clan Ireheart do well by their ancestors! Their ancient tradition, dragonslaying, hallowed by nature, is one of enlightened ways of the most honorable peoples. Surely those bright Dwed would be happy to see a spear of bronze hefted alongside their bortu steel... For they are not the only ones who will NOT suffer the slaves of the Worm" An elven hoplite looks over to his polished panoply with a thought on his head....

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Yahzlak sighs and shuffles off to the 'ruins' to go vacate her home. " 'ate thiz dumb-arze dragon drama. I juzt want tu live in my zkah'in blarg! But nuuuub. Zhortiez ranzack it! Hmgnghrgff ... 'ate dem."

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A pirate Captain laughs as he reads the missive, then just throws it to the chimney fire without a care. “Fool. Bold of you to assume my citizens are such. Even more bold to think the Rex would stand idle and let his territory be taken just like that!” and then he laughed some more, moving on to more important matters.

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Hard at work in the Sunforges of Order, the Keeper would labor for days thereon - smiling upon the missive delivered to her, for truly blessed was Dwarvenkind in the eyes of the Sunlit Lord. In time, however, she would return to her work... 

 

For by her hand, Black Arrows were to be forged. The Dragons would be sundered from the sky, not by the blessed lightning of her Lord, but by the hands of mortal men. 

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Bakir Ireheart brought forth his axe to plant it on the table infront of all his kin "Today, no member of the Azdrazi will know peace. Let us return to our roots as the great DRAGONSLAYERS!"

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Prince Kosher Daesmon, Prince of Malin’or and Amaethea, Bringer of Justice, would look upon the missive. With his free hand, he would beckon his son Prince Acanthus over, waving towards the shining sea. “Rally the people. The kin of the Irehearts seek Justice and so do we. We draw our blades alongside them at once.”

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"I told yeh t'at yeh should quit wit' t'at dragon bulls'it, Whylde." A pirate lass spoke up to herself, her eyes rolling before she moved on to do more important things

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Krawz smokes hash in a tent in the desert. A small Sorvian newt embodying the lesser spirit of messengers hands the yellowed Uruk a missive.  “Wub da zkah” The orc cries, before rolling the missive into a joint and smoking it. “Dat wuz perfect tiking fur sun more rollin paper. Mi wunder Wub will happen tu Krugmar when da dragunz get flat.”

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Draaghluk, a shaman bound to Kezt, lets out a hearty sigh as he walks through the jungles of the west, noticing a notice in the wind. "Dizappointing that that Levazport fell to the handz of zuch, another way Krugmar haz fallen into degeneracy. Alaz, it iz nub longer my problem."

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Cirdan eyed the dwarves through the gates, looking quite disgruntled.

First Malinor, now Urguan.. what have we done to offend them so? The dragon attack was not our doing.

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