On Kaethul, their association with darkspawn & recent events.

[UnBaed 8953]

Ilaria mourns the peace she had loved, in that once-quiet merchant town.  The only sliver of solace she had was that the chaos didn't spread to her quiet sanctuary of a hermit shack.  A weary sigh left her as she contemplated her little tattoo parlor within that bustling town.

[xo31 459]

A note was written to Sermi.

 

"Hiya. This is a formal warning, though more of a promise in good will, that I will cast you directly into the Void, where Iblees was chained up aswell. I hope that flames the color of the blue sky haunt your nightmares, and I'll be seeing you soon enough. If not for your malflamish tendencies, if not for your work with darkspawn, if not for your slandering of Yera, then for the hand in killing my friend, Amaya.

 

I will see you soon, demon, when you least expect me."

-Honestly, Arthur Burke

[Unwillingly 11176]

Somewhere in the north, the icy gales drink the last bit of warmth from an animal's blood. 

 

A thing lumbers through the brush, a darkened blemish on the pale canvas of snow that carries with it the sinew of a hare, pierced through by ivory incisors.

 

"They spread your name like plague in the ledgers," croaks a milky-eyed corvid that found a home on its crown of horns. "Cowardly, but effective." 

 

"I concur," goes the creature. "But cowardice is a plague no less, a smattering of raw shame they see suitable to feast on. It's why they find comfort in clayfaces, anonymous letters, and steel bunkers, and I do not. They do not deserve to share this mantle with me."

[Samler 1047]

3 hours ago, Karina said:

[!]
In the early morning, scattered missives were thrown from horseback around the Silver State.

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By the gates of Haelun'or stood the ancient high elf Seth Calith clad in his blue robes, crimson cloak with his rather tall staff with a blue crystal mounted atop, with a quiet word to his mute bodyguard Abbu, a 5'3ft tall person whose race was entirely hidden behind the Haelun'orian Sillumir armor lifted a lever, heavy chains pulled upon the mighty front gate. "Karin'ayla Avernir." Seth said with a small nod.

"What is your name, reason for visit, race and alligience? Also, I would request for you to dismount doing the gate process." The elf said courtly as the armoured man joined Seth's side by the hole from which he could look down upon whoever attempted to spread missives inside of the gated community.

[tilly 3672]

“Absolutely SCATHING!” Cried one Margrethe Bertha from the depths of the up-and-coming Barony of Hrenthorne.

[Xarkly 12618]

 

Villorik of the White Comet steepled his fingers.

 

On the table before him, the links of information were sketched. Hallowcliffe. The curseborn. The White Cat. Castiel.

Yera.

Kaethul.

 

This noose is getting tight, he thought wearily. If we don't hurry, they might hang before we arrive.

[ChaoticRoller 591]

Meira blinks shaking her head trying to wake up and re-reads the missive once more though she just blinks for the moment, with nothing more to say but sigh in light of this information.

[LobsterLarry 269]

Mi have ztolen latz head from latz zhoulderz once.... Mi would be glad to do it again. Keep zpreadin latz liez agh mi will zend legionz of uruk to flat latz alliez.

[Cheese 2307]

Juniper quickly takes to pen a missive in response on behalf of Yera. Hers, she decides, will not be written in piss yellow ink.

[Minuvas 2884]

 A certain Mage far away, would not be surprised by such accusations. He remarks simply "The truth always comes forth..."

[bonesxii_ 3]

A missive falls into the young man's hands, passed to him from a friend of a friend. The chair underneath him creaks with his weight as he sits, the gentle tap of his heel against hardwood floors echoes throughout his tiny home. A place that harbors dark secrets with hushed whispers nestled in the cracks of the walls. 

 

Sariel's eyes squints as he reads the missive over, and over, and over again until the words become nothing more than a jumbled mess. "Hypocrisy in its purest form," he muses. 

 

He never had high standards for Yera, he never thought fondly of her; something hides behind her reserved, quiet persona. He was certain of that.

 

Steadily, he folds the missive, pressing the creases tightly to sneak it between the glass bottles that sit in his cupboards.

 

"What a shame." The words leave his lips, drawn out and slow.

Edited March 20 by bonesxii_

[Pancho 2527]

As Cerrick Fenifaer, an 'ame of lowstanding patrolled the South of Aevos, he took a hold of a copy of the missive, reading it before looking to his companion. He smirked a bit, though his brow perked in surprise.

 "Seem like we got some work to do, ey Ryvel?" 

Spoiler

@Kanapes