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TWO TIMING LANCERS


femurlord
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thumsbup!

 

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Merrily did an ensemble of click-clacking undead, whose decayed flesh flapped with the wind in their pursuit to litter scripts down avenues and boulevards. Across each crinkled, yellowed surface ran a script seasoned with the scent of iron and hued a deep crimson.  A lingering eye found it discomforting, yet discerned the words of loss, although those vowels and syllables oddly danced in mindless celebration;

 

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Hear me, Braevos.

 

Know that my gnarled hand, while having slipped from the An-Gho, has stained him in permanent disappointment. The Nephilim have regained him, but they’ve unraveled a great secret, one that would sink your hearts and unravel your faith in the steadfast Lambs of Xan that swear to protect your realm from My kind with unwavering zeal. 

 

Upon the frays of Lurin, a coalition of joined forces, Nephilim and Xannites, endeavored to save their beloved Prophet, the An-Gho whose wings are tarnished and his neck clipped by my shackles. 

 

In their stagnancy and tea-sipping, the Prophet confessed his forces have coveted and relied on their newly found allies and how their Father instructed them to coerce unity with man and the triumvirates’ ordained; an intoxicating request for those abandoned by their black-winged ‘God’.

 

While my tongue is forked, I heed you consider your allies well in battling me, for this war is many-sided. Even if I am felled, your glittering saviors will align themselves to the Dragon-King rather than your wellbeing when it matters most. 

 

In summary, know the Paladins sided themselves with Nephilim to save the The -An-Gho, quite strange and out of character, don’t you think? Seems Paladins of Xan are nothing more than the Puppets of Azdromoth. 

 

Know my name,

 

Gashadokuro.

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"Once again, the undead try to set the Nephilim against descendants, for they fear that draconic fire might bolster the descendant's defense against the dark. You foul spooks are living on stolen time, and it is coming to an end!" Grumbled Elathion from his ship!

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Sigrun 'Dragonslayer' Stonehammer looked at the warped Nephilim skull in his left hand and a distinct lack of Lich skull in the other.

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"War against the False Light... Finally..." one Head of the Hydra rasps upon his sandstone throne, his voice echoing about the glorious temple. 

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