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Izû slai, Izû mat, Izû slai urzkû


DrunkPapaBear
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"Az mi blah'd, Kaal-Luk. If lat hit da gym inztead o' zmokin' latzelf to flat, den maybi lat would've kame out alive." Kho thought to himself during the aftermath of the siege, his complexion clearly disappointed yet righteous.

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Upon a small alcove, near the waters edge. A shaman sits with a distant visage stained on her face. Staking, small, smooth flat rocks in the form of a small pyramid. The only one to have truly ever known her, figured her out was dead. In their dealings Qudlia and Borok disagreed on much, fundamentally, they should have hated each other. But with understanding, came respect. Golden eyes, marked with runes turn to the ocean. The Jusmia sits in silence. Resting metallic plated hands on her knees. 

 

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Minto curls into a ball of depression amongst the trees of the place they had moved to.

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There, an elderly woman stood. Amongst safe ruins of silver and dried blood of her previous battles; pondering and planning for her family's sake, finally her weapon clinging to a wall until the foul scent of the crimson ink fell into her nostrils. A reminder of a fallen sought its way into her mind; an old rival who partook in the path of corruption in the past, nowadays both found the path of redemption. Alas, such an opponent would be found no more, for he was the aforementioned memory of the fallen. Only raspy words could be heeded crawling from her as ever exhausted voice; another reminder, but this one of a pact. 


"Unto Victory or Death." 

Her weapon was forever unbound to a wall, for her duty, could never be halted
 

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Sigurd would be screaming loudly out to the Ilzgul- a prayer that his brother, his mentor and his friend would live on in the stargush as he deserved. After a few hours of this he would lift his cauldron and prepare to leave the Iron Horde for good.

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Irongutenberg lays its eyes on Borok one final time as it watches how the Rex gives out orders to his kin. It dwells within the lands of Krugmar, a place it once knew so well. "Weeeeee must aaaaal peeeerish oooneeee daaaay...." it rumbled slowly, wandering through the West as it receives the news. "Find peace, friend." it said as its voice changed. 

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Upon hearing the death of the closest Orc that was to him, Borok, Emir would hold onto the same sword that he was gifted to by Borok himself when they first met during the Petran times 30 years ago. He did not do much except stare at the reflection of the greatsword, all he could mutter out was "If only the Voidal Taint was on your side and did not forget, this would not have happened... rest in peace, Borok... you'll always be remembered as long as I am breathing" Emir has lit up a candle in Honors of the Rex for an entire year, there were 5 candles in total now, and this time he thought about honoring him with a statue of Hall of Fame in his County.

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[Will respond soon, too heartstruck to make a god IRP reply atm]

 

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"May latz rezt in peace Borok....Zhame latz wuz nub able to komplete latz lezzonz in tik agh latz zoul waz klaimed by Kor." The Uruk speaks to nobody in particular, as he witnessed the death of the former Rex at the hands of the Mori. He would then go pour out a barrel of Guzzoline onto the ground. "Lup'Kinul agh may latz rezt well old friend."

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"Wi live, wi flat, agh wi live again, diz iz our way zince tik memoriam." The Rex grunted as he reflected, fire still glinted in the Uruk's eyes, the fire which consumed San'Velku. "Mi will nub let lat bi forgotten." He concluded.

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Far away from the ruins from the former capital of Krugmar sat a ancient Shaman Al-Uk'Yar, Seer of Clan Yar and keeper of Forbidden knowledge. Words of Boroks death eventually reached the Goblin "Flattageh tu deeh Bûrz... Flat tu deeh Bûrz Rex. Mi hopez hiz zould wuz zaved ihn deeh end"

 

A raging behemoth in his escape from San'Velku slaughters through the Mori, The death of the Crimson Rex fresh on his mind "LATZ FlaaAt ZERVEZ NuuUb PURPOZE. MAI REX KYBAL pRuuVe MUURE ZtAbUl." Popogoth Drekür'Ungri emitted, Albeit he ridiculed Boroks dying he did respect his relentless efforts to the lost City

Edited by ThatDutchFellow
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"He's not dead."

A half elfess dipped her head. 

"He will just get another shell. . . 

Or was that all just a lie to manipulate me?"

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"I'm proud of you. You are different then the shy little dwed on the walls of Balain, still tainted by the filth of the void. Now a Shaman. I will watch you from Stargush'Stroh"

Alviss still recalled those words that the now fallen Rex had stated atop the trebuchet tower, the duo overlooking the water north of the city only half a stone hour before the siege as the dwed laughed about how he might very well be there before Borok. As the battle raged on he heard the call of the now fallen warrior and it all clicked, Borok knew his fate was sealed, it was why they spoke how they did. 

Now, amidst the magma of the nearby volcanos Alviss poured out a drink in goodbye 

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"Dezpite wub waz blahed, Borok waz ah bub'hozh Rex" the Hobgoblin mumbles to himself "He made da decizions dat da average urukim cood nub, he wielded ah burden dat was heavier than any elze. Da Stargush'Stroh will welcome him with open arms, mi ahm certain ov it" the Kukaal clenches a clawed fist "Mi will honor mi bruddahz legacy"

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