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Old Men Walking

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Phibbup

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Similar posters are hung in most capitals, all sharing the same call. It reads, 
 
 
" Reader, I daresay we walk among a rare species. No, not Kha', Human, Orc, Dwarf, or even Elf am I referring to. I tell of those that come from long ago. Centuries have past, each usually dawning a new unique and beautiful land. But as time went on, those that came from long ago seemed to dwindle, die out, and has reduced our number to near extinction. What species, you may ask? 
 
I speak of none other than the inhabitants of Aegis. Truly, are numbers have nearly gone to 0. I'm almost certain there is no living human that survived the almost 200 year transition from Aegis to Asulon all the way to Anthos. Us Elves may have longer lives, yet our fragile build leaves us pray to large armies and fatigue. Orcs have dedicated their lives to war like Dwarves, and that dedication is what costs them their lives. 
 
Despite these reasons, I truly believe we haven't all died out. Somewhere on this great land of Anthos lives more of my kind, more of our kind, more of those born and raised in Aegis and those that survived Aegis. I ask that if YOU are any surviving Aegis 'Veteran', then please, do write it down. 
 
Whether you worshipped the holy Aeriel or performed unholy sacrafices in the name of the Darklord Iblees, I ask you to stand proud for enduring the long travel from the motherland of Aegis."

 

 
*The bottom of each poster has room for signatures.*
 
 

- Philip The Drunk.

-Blundermore P. WindRaker

-Scaryman  Brevias

Deader-Than-Dead Ever

Jingeh

Berendan

-Sexy Falkor

Vulnir

Bircalin Sturtart

Haelphon Addechio Tarus

- Olaf's headbutt

Pok'Ugluk The Momo-Skahin' Pimp

- Mili Irongut

- Relgard Sintel

- Shas'O Kais Ishikawa the Old Tiger 石川

- Ryan Darkwood

- E'Lizhath

- Saviticus Treebeard

-

 

 

 

((OOC: SO. If your CHARACTER, not you, was created and has been continued to played on since when we were in Aegis, just leave a post with your name. This is just something I thought to do for fun. Cheers!))

Edited by Phibbup
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*The Wizard Walks up to the sign, noticing it before reading over the notice and mulling over it, until finally, he shrugs:

 

"Eh, why not?"

 

Willing his quill out of his satchel, he carefully writes his name in full italics, before finishing, letting the quill float slowly back into the satchel, before wandering onwards on his long journey to ends yet known.*

 

-Blundermore P. WindRaker-

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'ello mate.

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Ever flips in his grave somewhere

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*Jingeh reaches into the inside pocket in his crimson trenchcoat, producing numerous oddities as he rifles for his ink and quill, he finally produces them, mumbling swear words as he crudely scrawls the name "Jingeh." he quickly tidies the two away into his pocket, furrowing his brow as he mumbles, scratching at his finely braided goatee and his mutton chops before strolling off swiftly.*

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Berendan looks around him, realizing he wasn't that active, but was still born. He quickly signs his name. 

 

Berendan- 

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With a thin wisp of his hand, Bircalin signs the paper amongst the others.

"Bircalin Sturtart."

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Olaf headbutts it.

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Haelphon scratches his name down as well, next to Bircalin's.

 

Haelphon Addechio Tarus

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Pok looks at the paper, writing his name down, he remembers his youth. Travelling the King's Road late at night. Bedding wenches and such in the taverns of Whispering Isles. Oh the good old days....
 

Pok'Ugluk - The Momo-Skahin' Pimp

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A hooded elf strolls up to it, he hasn't been seen in years, he wonders if maybe it is time to return.

He scribbles down his name,

"Ryan Darkwood"

((Inactive but not dead: I plan on bringing him back soon))

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*The old Elf walks along the road, noticing the sign. He turns slowly, his coat fluttering about in the wind. His hood pulled firmly over his white head of hair. He looks down at his pouch, pulling out a small jar of ink and a quill. He pulls the cork from the jar and dabs the quill into it as he goes to sign the page.

  "E'Lizhath"

he writes, ink getting onto his blue fingers as he does so. He mumbles, looking at the page and remembering some of the names, drawing a long breath before wiping ink off of the quill with his fingers, putting it back into his pouch along with the jar of ink which he puts the cork back into as he lowers it into the bag. He mumbles something before walking off.*

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