MOBILIZE, MOBILIZE, MOBILIZE

[JustMeMorgan 2065]

Acalmaehr would read the missive, eyeing each word as he'd say to the rest of his small cave - himself - "So the valah now openly attack both orcs and druids? I must wonder how Urguan is in all of this, what does the Grand King of the mountain say when both of his flanks are being polluted with human wars, battles and politics?" 

[D3F4LT 1026]

36 minutes ago, JustMeMorgan said:

Acalmaehr would read the missive, eyeing each word as he'd say to the rest of his small cave - himself - "So the valah now openly attack both orcs and druids? I must wonder how Urguan is in all of this, what does the Grand King of the mountain say when both of his flanks are being polluted with human wars, battles and politics?" 

Spoiler

"Do nothing, win

Do something, win harder"

 

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

MI BLAH'D LAT ZO!
A goblin screams somewhere in Petra - feeling both vindicated & annoyed. Strangling the missive. 

[Wizzar 613]

Somewhere far beneath the mountains of Ghorazad, the Hûn ob Grish draws his steel wrought of haruspexy, pressing it into a palm to draw blessed crimson. The shaman offers his bloodied hand to the Morukh of Throqugrish, staining it with a holy illustration. 

 

"Da Heartbeat beckons us to wagh. Grish will flow but even such strong currents will nub wash away da dishonor da shara have assumed in der march into da darkness" 

 

Ghuun'Akaal twists his form, bending slightly to retrieve two bowls. One filled with herbs gathered from across these new lands and the other filled with the slaughter of recent hunts. Both are placed upon the altar. 

 

"Vrasubatlat Grishûrz shara agh mi throqu latz tû agh grish" 

 

The face of the uruk contorts into that of monstrosity, fang and claws ripping through his flesh to protrude from his form as he releases a gutteral hum, his form rocking back and forth as he prepares both mind and body for WAGH. 

[Werew0lf 24180]

“Cut the Rex’s daughter’s hand off and return her to her father. I am hopeful the Rex will take urgent action against us,” the prince — soon to be Emperor — drawled in the company of the imperial knights, after having just vacated the Valelites as his imperial province. Despite the words of the prince, this did not seem to be merciless and cruel slaughter done out of joy or splendour; in truth, much to the disagreement of many, he found little joy in the bloodshed. However, his precise commands spurred from a mental game, he moved the first pawn. 

 

In a short visit to his closest friend, Hadrian sat within the palace of Idunia. 

 

“It worked, my friend. You wanted this, did you not? Our plan is now in motion.”

 

@Lenny

[Lenny 1615]

“Rook to … D8? No, that can’t be right...” Tar-Zôrzagar muttered to himself within the confines of Minas Aradar, the Palace of Alduun, with his dear friend Hadrian. A game was set on the table between the two, slowly finding its pieces falling off one-by-one, though admittedly it was never played for fun only to gleam what the other side saw. “Harren killed Krug,” he replied to the soon-to-be-Emperor, with a bright smile! “It is simply the will of the LORD GOD, good Hadrian, we simply see it to its conclusion by your initiating hand.”

@Werew0lf

[Samson Option 9652]

Luqmaan and Auvren rode atop mesas & between buttes mere hours before the assault. They gazed upon the petroglyphs that drank the sunset high over the pyramids of the Houzi. They carried away two jars of sand for their teacher Jaza'aa, having left with a cold chill down their spine as an ethereal tiger tracked them unbeknownst to the two acolytes until they rode out of the south.

 

Spoiler

Ayo @Pathologist & @fungifinn, we made it out. @Nestro_Minersent us on a crashout mission but we survived!

 

 

[Adelemphii 1766]

 

A woman left the emergency meeting in which it was decided by the people that Iryalen would submit to the Empire. Her blood boiled at the verdict. Not at the fear- fear was natural, human- but at the quiet acceptance of injustice, the cowardice forced upon them beneath the vast and unrelenting shadow of the Empire. She felt it across the land like a pressure upon the lungs: the knowledge that alone, no nation could rise to the challenge.

But together- together, there remained a fighting chance.

The woman tightened her grip upon the missive, its edges creased beneath her fingers. The words of the Rex, of slaughter and stolen children, struck her like a blow to the chest. She questioned if the life she had once planned still existed at all, or if this moment had carved her a new one entirely. She wondered how many more sons and daughters would be taken before someone stood tall.

The forest wind caught her cloak as she stepped beyond the city’s borders, out into the vast wilds where the Empire’s hand grew thinner and her path grew clearer. She did not yet know the form her aid would take- blade, bow, diplomacy, sabotage, or something far older and quieter that stirred in her blood. But she knew this:

She would not sit idle while tyrants carved the world to their liking.

With the missive tucked against her chest, she set her feet upon the dirt road leading west, toward the Badlands- toward the Horde and the gathering storm.

[BurberLord123 375]

Spoiler

Who up kruggin they shi 🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

 

PREPARE FOR THE HUMAN MEAT WAVE 

 

[LichinCrocs 257]

The Burnt Lord observed the rising war of fury and faith from the shadows of his Lair. Each vow of vengeance, each prayer for strength, each clatter of arms being gathered it was all so… loud. So temporary.

He did not sharpen a blade. He did not pray. He simply listened to the silence that would follow the coming storm, and smiled with half a mouth.

In the lightless deeps, his  Undead stirred. Their task was not to fight, but to follow. To wait. To gather. The Empire would deliver fine steel and fresh corpses. The Horde would deliver rage and more of the same. And he would take it all, quietly, from the fields they reddened.

Let them have their war. He would be counting the dead.....

Edited December 3, 2025 by LichinCrocs

[LuckyD 141]

Relad was sat in his home, feeding logs into a fire when an unnamed guardsman of Vertegrad delievered the message. Verbally. Shouting.

 

He took a few mild breaths, looking to his own armor on the rack in the corner.

 

They had been so good to him when he visited. Everyone, everywhere he had went in his travels, had treated him with kindness. Was he to repay that by spilling blood?

 

No.

 

No, he would decide. If Norlad was called to war against Darkspawn or Grendel or true evils? Perhaps, yes.

 

These are people. Their skin color does not matter to him. Their culture does not matter to him. Their height does not matter to him. Their tusks do not matter to him.

 

Every woman is a daughter, every man a son, and many of each are siblings to one another.

 

He would face darkness with fire in his heart. He would defend his home because the people he loved relied on him for that. Yes.

 

Relad throws another log into the fire.

 

He turns away his gaze from his armor and weapons.

 

"...have people not lost enough?" He pondered aloud, speaking to none.

 

"..."

 

Silence answers.

 

How terribly loud the quiet was.

 

How horrible it is, to kill out of boredom.

 

How sad it is to narrow your worldview to such a finite point.

 

How terrifying it is to imagine how these people find it so easy to take another life, as if it was nothing at all.

 

How daft the man Relad Orison is, for thinking he knew any better than anyone else.

 

Another night in Azuras. Another day tomorrow. He supposed, then, that he should consider himself lucky to see the sunrise. 

 

There is only sorrow for those who will not in this pointless, avoidable conflict.

 

If he could, he would apologize to each and every one of them to be felled.

 

....

 

He fears he would not know the words to say, in that moment, were it to arrive.

[josphgaming 32]

if you guys kill each other, who can i be racist to in-game too

 

 

[_xMika 284]

Adorning his trusty armor Edgar Ledicort de Senna read the missive, gently did his hold tighten causing the paper to crumble a bit under the pressure

"Well, i suppose somethings can't be avoided,  i tried. .  But yet again, no one listens to me"

He whispers to himself understanding the bloodshed that will soon take place between the two nations though despite that, he stood firm his helmet coming to latch atop of his head his visage now hidden behind a layer of shadows, only that glowing green gaze lingered still. He had picked a side when he first swore an Oath to the empire, and despite the relations he held with some of the horde.

His loyalty had always been for only one nation. 

"I wonder if that curse of yours has rubbed off on me Lorena, oh well. . . Ave Imperium" 

Are the words said to himself as the grip on his blade only tightens, war is coming and he was ready. 

[Mordringfan 166]

Domnhall reads through the Rex's declaration of War on the Empire. He had watched from the sidelines as the two Empires relations had progressively worsened, but could not have imagined that War would tear through the continent so... Soon. A large grin slowly makes its way across his face, before he speaks a single sentence out-loud to himself. "And so it begins, this land will be a paradise for us..." With this new information in mind, he mounts his steed and begins to ride towards the Empire of Man.

[moosehunter123 1081]

The old Mean Green Olog battered with war scar's and food rummages across his tusks, emerges from the fog as the drums of war have kicked in the Horde.

 

He can be seen waddling into the lands roaring horribly as he towers with his large crudely made club the words horribly craved into the side as dried blood can be seen all over it.

 

"GIB TUBBO LATZ GRUBBBBBBB"

 

He roars out happily.

 

"LATZ KLOMP TUBBOOOOO"

 

The time has come for the massive Olog to enforce the Grub tax on all.

 

Spoiler

@Javert