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The Defense of the West


farmerclown
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Kosher Fier Daesmon, Third Prince of Amaethea, Hand of Justice, would cheer at the missive, taking up his blades. "I may have a grudge against Celianor, but nothing is more important than the safety of my people."

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The Silver Lubba didn't get invited </3, but he will manage through this iteration of a half malin'or

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Ember looks down at this missive half asleep as she places the missive that was given by her cat. She places it down as she twist and turns back to her comfortable position in bed resting after 3 days of no sleep.

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"And the cycle turns a new" Jarad said before going to find kosher in order to talk about a certain problem

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Nehtamo Ibarellan cold sweats. "I hope no one calls it Malin'or." His lips thin, a sharp inhale. "I'm worried Earendel will return if they do...the bortu definitely don't want that."  

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9 minutes ago, rukio said:

Nehtamo Ibarellan cold sweats. "I hope no one calls it Malin'or." His lips thin, a sharp inhale. "I'm worried Earendel will return if they do...the bortu definitely don't want that."  


A wild dark dwarf coughs at a similar time, swearing he heard something before returning to his book*

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"Two hundred forty-seventh times the charm." An elf stated rather sarcastically.

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Kor'garr the Clanless just. Frowns at the treaty. A grey digit comes up to scratch at his temple before a weary sigh is let out from between thick tusks.

"Norazath... Netseth... Wub dah zkah? Lat gunna meyk'ag treety wyth dah Buurz'Twiggiez bivor latz alliez en Zhomoizm?"

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