EXPLICIT AND DISRESPECTFUL DENUNCIATION OF GASHADOKURO

[sam33497 2793]

[!] A few missives have been distributed in major cities, bearing frantic but oddly ornate writing.

 

 

I AM VERY ANGRY.

 

The other elven day, NECROTIC BEASTS assailed me and my allies at one of the towers of Hokhmat,

somehow having infiltrated the TOTALLY FOOLPROOF and WELL-DEFENDED ziggurat.

 

Now, that alone would not be enough to cause this great bout of passion from me, for what warrior

does not welcome such a glorious fight, in their own walls, nonetheless?

 

HOWEVER, upon arriving, one of these undead uttered phrases that have caught my EXTREME IRE.

 

“We have come for Fatebinder,” it said, or some drivel along those lines. It had appeared before me, and

asked for a NOVICE MAGE. A NOBODY.

 

I PROCLAIM THIS:

 

GASHADOKURO AND ALL AFFILIATED NECROTIC BEASTS:

 

YOUR BONES ARE BRITTLE AND POORLY ALIGNED

CLOWN OUTFITS LOOK REALLY STUPID

YOUR NAMING SCHEME IS INCREDIBLY UNINSPIRED

YOUR WILL IS WEAK AND YOUR CAUSE IS AIMLESS

 

As long as I live, you shall have no honor. SO COME SEEK OUT SOMEONE OF COMPETENCE,

AND LET US DO BATTLE.

 

-LANRE CERUSIL              

 

 

 

[Cheese 2311]

"God forbid someone piss off Lanre Cerusil off to such a degree…” Juniper grumbled to herself

[megavoltar 1110]

"'Ah think someone is insulting us"

 

Placid waters followed the path of least resistance as Hemlock poured a glass of mud-water that he thought was wine.  He let the pour stop and went to the next glass of the two lounging individuals sitting on the crescent-shaped beach.

 

"I'm really mad, but at th' same time I ain't know where I am.  But somehow 'ah feel as though something precious to me, someone 'ah would give my life for, is being insulted."

 

They adjusted the bow tie on their trimmed butler's suit.  The wither skeleton gloomily sulked concluding his service of Funnybone and Gashadokuro

 

"Darn..."

 

[femurlord 2366]

Over the skyline, bat-like creatures soared out from the caniferous canopies and shadowy caverns, overcoming the sky of Hokhmat. There, this living 'smog'  begun to twirl and twist to form a reply, following a shrill shriek of a voice which struck like lightning. "YO YO YO, MY BONES ARE RED AND SHINING, YOUR BRAIN IS DEAD AND ROTTING! A PIECE TO MY SCHEME, BONE MEAL DOWN THE STREAM. GASHADOKURO OUT!"  As quickly as these apparitions came, they fled back from whence they came, crying out before silent again.

[Trey 226]

Amidst a make-shift play upon a small stage within a cave, skeletons dressed in clownish outfits and performer attire, moving mechanically and with the chitter of bones with each step. One is dressed as a bard, holding up a skull similar to his own in Shakespearean fashion.

 

Funnybone sits upon a wooden seat next to a table, seemingly watching this orchestration as though he were to expect anything different to happen despite being the controller of these undead. He slouches in his chair, resting his head on a closed fist which rose from the table, a rested elbow to support it. Reading the missive, the jester frowns beneath his mask. "I wonder what would've happened if I stayed with you.. Lanre." The Jester remarked to himself. 

 

His gaze turned up to a Flesh Golem entering the stage with powdered make-up plastered upon its decrepit face. It began to twirl like a ballerina.

[sam33497 2793]

2 minutes ago, Trey said:

"I wonder what would've happened if I stayed with you.. Lanre."

 

Down, down, deep within the earth and deeper still, treading upon a path of rock and darkness and magic, fate twisted and clawed. An elf stretched his arms, partaking in feelings of normality and that of not-flesh, of magic and corruption, of reminder and implication and dread and death.

 

But Lanre Cerusil did not think of these things, for all they assaulted him - Lanre Cerusil did not think at all, except to participate in the perpetual self-lie, to fancy, to desire. He rejected thoughts, and they flew from his mind, eschewed, useless, bearing no fruit. But he did think that day.

 

Lanre Cerusil had seen much of ambition. He had seen it within others, nurtured or trampled upon it, cultivated it within himself. He did not think of it anymore. It did not matter to him whether or not he held ambition, or whether or not those around him did. But that day, he thought of it.

 

He thought of a man, concealed and paradoxical, a pariah. He thought of a man who he had endowed his trust and who had endowed trust upon him. He thought of that face - just for a moment. And he wondered.

 

He had paused, freezing in place, his perpetual motion disrupted. It was unnatural. But Lanre Cerusil did not realize that it was - he continued walking, down, down, deeper into the earth, basking in feelings of life, seeking refuge and enlightenment and the Void. Or perhaps not seeking those at all. He could not know.

[Turbo_Dog 1435]

3 hours ago, sam33497 said:

GASHADOKURO AND ALL AFFILIATED NECROTIC BEASTS

A gray skinned, sweater wearing infernally tainted monster of non-epic proportions pointed as a certain line in the missive and laughed as he then pointed at Gashodokuro after the lich had dropped his sick bars “Daal Daal is not necrotic beast animal. Daal’s bones are better better yes!”