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TATTERED WINGS


femurlord
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The Eyes of the Betrayer sculpted into the back of that beast glared fervently as the Olog conducted some light stretching. Something in the wind changed that day, and all was clear with a crack of the neck.

 

The Synchronicity of Power was upon us, and the leylines pulsed with energy across Aevos from the highs of the Mountain to the lows of the Divide. 

 

"Gashadokuro. . ."

 

"I WANT TO TASTE DEFEAT."

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A feathered, red tengu looked across the chasm they dwelt in to its Dark Lord expectingly for food for a job well done.

 

"Prrr, Praise the Dark Lord Gashadokuro!"

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As the news reached the pale dragon he slowly stood up, pushing away his many servants and constructs that hovered around him. His eyes glimmered a yellow light upon the crowds. It was here that he addressed those loyal onto him "It appears my Brother has found himself in a bimd, call upon our legions. We will march soon upon the craven of the dark - flood the earth with flames, find the tombs and crevices they hide him in."

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The waldenian sneezes "I smell schemes.." 

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A gray Imp in his blood soaked sweater cackled as he swung from the bottom of a cage in the dark cavern he called a base with his prince YES YES DAAL DID MUCH GOOD YES! VEGETABLE WITH SCALES STINKY SMELL, EYEBLEEDZ WIN NOT LOSE!” He shrieks out in his obnoxious voice

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A drake stricken by shame of defeat knelt within the lair, the scars of malflame and avulsed chunks of flesh from his scaly back; yet again he found himself amidst the ritual circle.

 

"By your scars and your deeds shall you be judged," Ahnakriel incanted, biting into his palm and spilling blood. One thing he had not lost, was faith.

With twisting lines, he drew the ash-infused blood across his tattered body.

 

"Blessed be the vengeful, my duty may never be done, I swear that I bringeth death."

He swore to the prime mover, the everburning flames of the Titan seared above, for the Azdrazi knew the vengeance shall be most sweet.

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That tattered and yellowed script found its way into a 'ker's hands, slowly did a grin come across her visage as her gaze shifted upwards to a lone cage.

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"How the mighty do fall.." A man covered in black and red cloth hums out upon reading the missive. "As many do who oppose him."

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"Shar-Azar'dul." so the mantra went, spoken softly from within a hanging cage in the dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the Third-Eye. 

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“…You got to be ******* kidding me”

 

a paladin awakens from her healing as she struggles to wobble her way to get her armor

 

”I been asleep for too long ****”

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