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MOBILIZE, MOBILIZE, MOBILIZE

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Admiral Silas gazed up towards Ghorazad atop the lighthouse of Praeteria's Rest.

Seagulls cried overhead, and the sound of ocean waves were as music to the orcish sailor's ears.

The Admiral received a missive from one of his sailors. He did not need to look at it to know what it was about.

A wide, wide grin spread across his features.

It was behind closed doors that the deal had been struck, hands shaken. It was evident, really; the Horde would be no more.

Upon scanning the missive with those eyes of his, Silas found himself laughing out loud.

"And so, it begins."

 

A letter would find itself penned to Admiral Maeril, then, arriving via Silas' most trusted bird.

 

Spoiler

[!] Do not metagame this letter.

 

Dear Admiral,

 

I have given the offer more thought, and I have decided that the family has no business with the war of the land-dwellers. The Praeterian Fleet shall abstain from this war, though I hope and trust that this does not hinder our cooperation.

If we are truly needed, our ships will sail for Idunia; though I trust that the Empire does not need us to overtake the Horde.

The Rex has treated us well, admittedly. Though I look forward to what is to come even more. 

 

Ave Imperium, perhaps - if that is what you say.

 

Silas 

 

Traitors to the Horde? An uruk with no honor, betraying his fellow descendants of Krug?

Neither was the answer.

Silas was only doing the right thing.

 

The sailor then returned back into the interior of the lighthouse. There was not much more to it; on the open seas, might made right.

 

@Cally

 

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"Mi gurked diz wuz inevitable..." 

 

"Mi wyl prepare. Da Empire will be made to repay futh every drop uv blood." 

 

Uku began to gather war gear for the upcoming conflict. 

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The Zealot would drag his Yatagan across the sands, his veil flapping in the harsh winds. Crossing the main road, he would lie in the ditch, the cloaks colors shifting to match that of the sand, as the hoof beats of an Imperial scout party approched . . .

 

 

(DOWN WITH THE IMPERIAL INVADERS WAAAAAAGGGGHHHGH)

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Yhl’Flaaowni watched as the sparks from the forge before her. Weapons of war, enriched with the holy blood of the near-pure Kharajyr form, to arm her people for what was coming.

 

Blood would flow, and vengeance would be all the sweeter as she tasted it.

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Maddock nodded as he read the missive, preparing to go above and beyond the call of duty for his people. "You brought this upon yourself, Prince Hadrian. You and your family have doomed your Empire with this act, though we will not strike the killing blow. Nay, your greed and your ambitious lust for power and land will tear your people apart, and you and your family will suffer as the people who doomed your Empire of Man before it even made it past its first heir. Your legacy will be reduced to ash as all remember your era as rulers of man as the age where Mankind strayed the farthest from GOD, they have since Harren."

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“Abducting a cub?” An ashen beast says as he sliced cuts to his own chest with a blightsteel blade, letting the tainted blood pour from his wounds. He’d scoop the blood in his hands, wiping them on a shrine to his Ram ancestors “Strength, Dominance, pain, grizh. The empire wants grizh, Gadhaal. The empire wants grizh, Ram. The empire wants grizh, Krothuul. Give them what they want” he finished his worship with that. For only the sounds of his own blood dripping to the floor from the shrine could be heard. The ashen orc now gone, along with his blade and a silent friend.

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An uruk veteran to many wars picked up his weapons once more. 

 

Krug give we da strength to cleanse rot, may Ibleez agh her puppetts burn by our blessed light.

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An Uruk whose only importance was his ice blue skin and his blood lineage towards the current sitting Rex sat within Ghorazad, he had just finished an intense sparring session when the news of mobilization had arrived. It was the first time he had heard of Ilza's kidnapping, and yet he had already known who had perpetuated it. It was time, he thought, to bring death upon the Imperial Hordes. Even if it meant he might end up in Stargush'stroh earlier then he had ever anticipated. 

 

A Human of medium stature stood just outside the Imperial Capital as news spread, horses declaring the raising of hostilities between the last two nations of Azuras, and yet all he could think about was the chance of gaining more mina then he ever the hope to use in the exploitation of this conflict. A smile grew on his face, he knew exactly who would come up on this conflict, and it would be neither the Horde or the Empire, but he solely.

 

A High Elf of short stature for his race was in a basement somewhere on Azuras. He was once a great 'thill of Haelun'or, now reduced to nothing but a common High Elf as his nation sat in ruins, partially because of his actions. His eyes glazed over, a simple sigh leaving his lips as he read the missive, more conflict in which the Empire will surely win without contest, he thought. he had helped raise the Empire, with his conquest of Celia'nor and the abduction of the last Balianite Queen, and yet he was stabbed in the back by both his kin and the Empire, he had no other ambitions but see it all burn to the ground.

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Spoiler

Surely the 18+ is a stab at the child soldiers LOL

 

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Aelyn scanned over the horizon; the descending sun seemed like rising flames to him. A flame that would be a reality in the coming years.

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The Matriarch's jaw dropped as this news was relayed to her ... but too late did it come. The Omentahu had voted, the pact was signed, the fate of the 'ame was sealed.

Later, she sobbed silently in her home, praying to her patheon of gods to at least spare the children in the violence to come.

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Sir Lothar d'Amaury sharpened his blade and polished his armor. "For too long have the Uruk thought themselves outside the jurisdiction of The Imperium, harboring those seditious few who believe themselves greater than men united. Let these greenskin beasts raise their blades against us, they will fall before righteous man like all before." He handed his sword off to his page Henri before heading back to The Keep of The Red Dragon. 

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Just now, KBR said:

Sir Lothar d'Amaury sharpened his blade and polished his armor. "For too long have the Uruk thought themselves outside the jurisdiction of man, harboring those who believe themselves greater than men united. Let these greenskin beasts raise their blades against us, they will fall before righteous man like all before." He handed his sword off to his page Henri before heading back to The Keep of The Red Dragon. 

 

The young and gallant squire of the Order of the Red Dragon sat within the halls of the Krak. He knew his brother and he would join together to vanquish these foes should they incur the wrath of the Grand Knight and the ire of the Empire. Yet, for now, the young man prepared in quiet prayer. The Amyan crucifixions of Lorraine had been long forgotten, yet not to him.

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Spoiler

ChatGPTImage3dec202504_10_21.thumb.png.b5a164a1d5ba6277f5df8a7f283c8f6e.png

 

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