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TO END THE BÛRZ REX


ThatDutchFellow
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A warlock grumbles, the chains from his blade arm clanking as he shifts through the dark cave he called home. A champion of Leyd, an elder of Akaal, and a brother to the Rex, he sends his fist into a deposit of crystals growing front the cavern wall, slicing open the flesh of his hand, his one eye flicking around violently as he roars. “NUB- NUB MORE WAGH, ZHAK- Leyd warned us Borok.. da zhakah is blinded by da zpiridz, dey do nub kare to keep our people together, so wi will enslave dem as da zpridz haz..”  The angry giant rumbles to himself or to someone who was supposedly there, though unseen. 

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Beneath halls of hallowed, volcanic stone sat the Minotaur. Beneath the very polis he'd helped consecrate. Beneath the great herds of blessed cattle he had bred and culled to perfection. Beneath mountains of skulls and wicked flesh. It sat and pondered over the missive as smoke filled the room, its brothers joining him in solemnity.

 

"Mi band? Those who called mi bruddah? Who took great KLEOS by mi side? Have they forgotten their oaths? Their vow tu Dazkur?"

 

It asked of the fellow minotaurs, though they were exempt to learn a single word of common. He turned his attention then to the full situation, furrowing his brow and tensing his muscles.

 

"Bah. Da cards am dealt. Whatever happens now is on their heads. Al-uk. Murdok. Bruddahs ob mi youth. Their foolishness shall nub just be their own undoing. But da undoing ob all we have built. Ha-Uruk. HA-QARKAH!"

Edited by Vilebranch
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[!] The Scorthuzian elf merely smiled at the missive. After being threatened, berated, and manipulated by the Buurz rex, and admonished by his naive mentor, the Elf finally felt avenged. He nods his head and states.

 

"May Scorthuz's will be done, and may judgment fall harshly upon the man who threatened my life: the Rex."

 

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A Hoplite of Sulianpoli polished his heavy bronze spear. Wary of extranational police he prepared to stand by the ugluk patriots as his oaths compel him 

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[!] A masked shaman sits, sorting herbs in a dank under floor of an unknown building when she receives word of this missive. The cold eyes of her mask do not display an inkling of the emotion she feels, not that she would ever show them publicly. Her hands harshly grip the paper this declaration is written upon before she furiously tears it down the center. The two halves are quickly discarded.

 

Emony's voice is muffled by the mask as she speaks, though she continues to stow her emotions, holding a cold and calculating tone. 

 

"This call to arms is nothing more than a sham, and thus with this one it falls upon deaf ears. If it interferes with my goal of becoming a true uruk, I will have no choice but to exile myself and pursue this dream on my own."

 

Her head shakes in a disapproving manor as she resumes her work.   

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Atop a large pillar a Nephilim sat pondering the words of the missive, “Elven politics have corrupted my precious urukin. . . perhaps I shall help the Rex cleanse these vermin from his lands.”

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A strange figure garbed in moss warmed the corner-seat of a booth in a small, seedy tavern. Clawed nails escape the greenery, prising the missive closer to herself. A gurgled laugh could be heard between another swig of whatever frothy concoction it was she was swilling. 

"It iz az I peeped zo many yearhz ago .. But whu am I to blah I told lat zo, when there ahm none to lizzen.."

The tankard clanks softly as it rests on the surface of the table once more, a small sigh following soon after.

 

"But I did tell lat zo .."

 

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2 minutes ago, Maiyun said:

A strange figure garbed in moss warmed the corner-seat of a booth in a small, seedy tavern. Clawed nails escape the greenery, prising the missive closer to herself. A gurgled laugh could be heard between another swig of whatever frothy concoction it was she was swilling. 

"It iz az I peeped zo many yearhz ago .. But whu am I to blah I told lat zo, when there ahm none to lizzen.."

The tankard clanks softly as it rests on the surface of the table once more, a small sigh following soon after.

 

"But I did tell lat zo .."

 

[!] An aged letter, fallen mid flight from the claws of a Krugmarian Courier Hawk, rots and crumbles with age next to an avian skeleton. Despite the heavy damage, a few fragmented words could still be seen... [!]

"To Yarrow'Lur... may be... visit..? Kor'garr.."

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The small ‘ker girl, wrapped in a poncho of black and grey scraps, would blow a collection of her bangs out of her face before shifting her wry, faded-crimson eyes to her ebon feline companion who rested on the log beside her.Seems rather obtuse on their end. Birds of a feather, flock together.she’d exhale through her nostrils and roll her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

 

 Usually, the Uruks aren’t known for their ridiculous political drama. Just ‘klomp’ and move on. Believe it or not, I’m finding it hard to contain my laughter.” The cat didn’t waken from its snooze, which triggered another huff from the little Shaman. She’d crumple up the missive with both of her hands before tossing it into the still surfaced pond before her, the reflection of the moon becoming warped.

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