This is For IRENE [Darkspawn Notice]

[TreeSmoothie 4938]

 

RAH OL U TENEIR, MOIEF MON BLETH ON NÉFSERVE – –

Ven u hrudao ol ETH-REITE-FRITH-ETH

FHUIL THAF MON  BLADEE AF  GLOREER VEN MON ATHA – –

Spoiler

@stickyhon@teeylin IT HAS BEEN DONE!!!

 

silly wanted poster art by your's truly

is for Irene, thee rotund, white-fleshed, putrid smelling bacon-did-feed wench, why thee TOOK mine beloved's eyes out and flayed them, beat them to nigh death whilst their back was turned, thy TRIFLING, FILTHY, LARGE, ‘oompa loompa’, corse-haired rampallian WENCH! I'm coming up thither and I shall beat the ALAS out of thee, wench, and don’t rally your darkspawn-filth comrades, I shall cometh up thither unexpected and wail on thee rampallian wench arse; I KNOW OF THE FETID CARRIAGE THOU DRIVE and thou raggedy arsed steeds and ratty cloth. Damned tattered shoes, thin-haired, stenched dog, arsed wench! I'm telling thee, WENCH, I'm coming to beat thou for thou foul-mouthed, trifling-arsed attitude. WENCH!!!

 

---

“HARK, AEVOS;

IRENE OF ALDENBURG [SOMEWHERE IN HER FIFTIES; OF AVERAGE HEIGHT AND WEIGHT; BEARING SCORED OFF TATTOOS; A HUMAN WOMAN, SUPPOSEDLY]

has fallen to the way of Iblees – when my spouse was strolling the streets of Balian at night, she attacked and performed some rite of NECROMANCY upon them. She did not stop at this, however, and proceeded to remove their eyes and slash their face. Callista of Tuvia found her victim dumped upon my very porch in the early hours, and written in blood and carved into the wood was her signature, and when my beloved came to, was able to recall such events. 

 

Keep watch, brethren - for the wretch can surely change her hair, her garb. But her wicked heart remains the same.

 

 

And to Irene – and your moniker I shan’t call you by, for you do not deserve the honor nor humanity of it – you best avoid myself and my kin like the plagues you fester in. For if I catch you, I will fly you to the peaks and impale you upon the highest mountain. For every time you come back in undeath, your skull will be split again, and again, til there is only a vial of dust to remember you by. LET THE HUNT BEGIN, GOD WILLS IT.

 

BUÉSSI NA U RAH OL U TENEIR

 

H.E., JOHN AUGUSTUS GALBRAITH

[HIGH_FIRE 4118]

Tsune would plant a hand over her face at realising what her granddaughter had done, though soon she would mutter “Shouldn’t have become a necromancer… I blame Grim”

[Pallodium 479]

Rancorous flames dripped from a drakaarkin's maw. It gazed upon the missive; knowingly.

[MadOne 3431]

High Pontiff Caius searches for Irene, to hand her something soon. . 

Spoiler

 

[satinkira 5976]

[!]

 

A letter is sent to the Galbraith.

 

Dear John Augustus Galbraith,

 

What is an 'Oompa Loompa?' We would like to use this insult ourselves - it rolls off the tongue quite neatly - but we do not know what it means.

 

- A Wordsmith

[Qctho 178]

3 minutes ago, satinkira said:

What is an 'Oompa Loompa?

Spoiler

A canonist halfling

 

[Damnit_Delmar 1129]

That wretched craftsman sat upon his throne of winged ivory, gems and aurum dangled from that throne, as that aurum clad Gravelord rested upon that cushioned satin seat. The wizened Craftsman; Reynard Pharamir Delmar, cackled with cruel glee. The eyes of Galbraths lover, rolling in his palm like a pair of dice. 

 

"What a grand gesture, a grand gesture indeed! We love ones first prominent Bounty, let us see how such proceeds." 

Spoiler

@stickyhon

 

[TheBigBubbles 699]

An ancient alchemist remarks at the odd use of language in this particular missive "Hm, John seems quite a fan of new-fangled youth speak. I'll have to consult him about it once I've checked on my dear patient."

[sapphic_spidy 155]

Irene? Like... like that Irene?

Sydney's eyes widen, then he grins.

 

She couldn't hide forever, could she. 

What is it she said to him? What's wrong? Or was it, Is something the matter?

 

He can't publicly say what she is...

But he can anonymously write to John. He's sure John would appreciate the knowledge. 

[stickyhon 62]

6 hours ago, Damnit_Delmar said:

That wretched craftsman sat upon his thrown of winged ivory, gems and aurum dangled from that throne, as that aurum clad Gravelord sat upon his throne. The wizened Craftsman; Reynard Pharamir Delmar, cackled with cruel glee. The eyes of that mans lover, rolling in his palm like a pair of dice. 

 

"What a grand gesture, a grand gesture indeed! We love ones first prominent Bounty, let us see how such proceeds." 

  Reveal hidden contents

@stickyhon

 

The witch cackled along with her mentor, shrieking through the halls of dead with her own macabre joy. She too often eyed the trophies stolen from her once best-friend with a sense of pride, or perhaps something closer to vanity. 

 

"I do hope they continue to play right into my trap, soon I shall strike again- And then our ranks will expand once more."
Irene Milana Agnes Palmer, Baroness of Aldenburg and self-proclaimed Crimson Witch added towards the Elder.

[Ztrog 1031]

A ghastly knight would look over the missive, eyes of smoldering ectoplasm narrow as he eyes the name. "Palmer, Aldenburg?" He utters out in an ethereal tone. "My bloodline lives on, and yet they are still amongst sinners." His gruff tone snaps, clenching his fists of haunted metal. "As am I now, perhaps I must seek them out. ."

[Xaedric 73]

A corpseman, draped in tattered leathers affixed those smog laden eyes of his upon the missive, reading it aloud - A brief respite from overseeing the Ghoul miners as he ensured to commit a number of insults introduced to memory, surely with some intent to repeat them - perhaps to Irene herself. Within its fleshless digits did it ball up the missive, casting it at the skull of an adjacent undead who'd paused to listen. Forgotten, the missive laid there on the floor, and all within Tomb City was as it once was.