Terry

“Bold,” would be all Ulfric would say as he read the missive, wondering where his old friend Rylanor would even be nowadays.

Ulfric would read the missive with a few grumbles and groans. "o'I did nae sacrifice mah reign ensuring teh downfall ov Oren onleh fer et teh reform again. Ef t'ese last few decades ov mah loife mus' beh spent ensuring somethin' ov teh loike never reappears, so beh it. Form ah Grand fockin' Republic fer all o'I care. Jus' keep Oren dead. Keep teh name gone. Even at et's peak there was nothin' but decadence an' corruption. Remember t'at." He'd then crumple up the missive, tossing it straight into the fireplace of his home. He'd grab a drink soon after.

Ulfric would take the missive, giving it a read as he brought a hand to his beard. "Short an' sweet. Stepped down before teh calls teh do such came, smart lad. Smarter t'an teh res' ov us, sureleh. Only ah shame o'I never found teh toime teh work wit' him. Ah good run, Sigrun. May teh Brathmordakin guide yeh." He'd then place the missive back down, opting to spend the rest of that night thinking, and talking with his wife.

Sigmar 'Siggy' var Ruthern would come out of his minor sickness with a smile as he read the missive, making plans to attend!

Sigmar var Ruthern stood atop Castle Morteskvan, staring down the path which the enemy had approached from. He had stood with his siblings, watching the fighting from above. Watching with his hand gripped on the handle of his blunt training sword, watching his family and kinsmen wound and get wounded, Sigmar made a vow. The fires in Castle Morteskvan continue to burn. "BONES AND BARROW!" "KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM!"

Greene Caerme'onn-Norvayn would give a heavy sigh upon receiving the news, his list of close friends growing shorter by the day. He'd find himself back at the Cove upon hearing the news, removing his helmet as he said a small prayer. "Ahernan fer all yeh did, Bobcat. For meh, mah mother, mah whole family. May yeh rest easy whereveh yeh end up, an' may teh perpetrator ov yeh death nae go unpunished." Greene would then rise, placing his helmet back atop his head. He'd draw a circle over his heart before reluctantly moving on.

The aged Ulfric would cross a line through a personal grudge. "Teh betrayal ov teh van Aerts an' t'eir precious Blackvale in teh War o' Wigs 'as been avenged. Praise beh... Narvak oz Urguan, Narvak oz teh Gran' Covenant." He would then close the book, laying it upon his desk. There was atleast one more grudge to strike from it, but the time he figured, was now, to direct his energies to more everlasting pursuits. Ensuring the Holy Orenian Empire stayed dead, or any Empire which attempted to mirror such that is, was one such direction.

The Valeseer would shake his head, clearly unhappy about the particular line he was reading. "Defendin' ourselves was nae callous act, Keeper Dyonne. Nor were weh abou' teh tell our kin in Norland 'ow justice shoul' beh enacted in t'eir own lands. Yeh were part ov teh leadership, it's inner circle nonetehless, when t'is happened as well. Yeh were made vereh aware ov teh events t'at preceded t'is. Stop draggin' t'ose t'at came befer yeh in teh mud before o'I drag yeh along wit' us. o'I will not stand fer slander." He'd then march on, stopping to speak to a few old friends on the way to his destination.

Ulfric paced the confines of his old home in Urguan, feeling healthy and refreshed whilst reading the daily missives delivered to him. "Duke o' Adria, yeh attempt es mos' honorable." He'd say to himself, continuously moving around his home, "But too late et'd seem. Too many loives 'ave been lost, too many battles had. Teh Covenant, an' teh League both 'ave tasted blood an' tested steel too maneh toimes now. T'is es ah war machine t'at es too big teh come to a stop now, as you can seh." He'd sigh, going to sit. "Whether et beh t'ose seekin' teh construct t'eir own Empire from yeh lands, t'ose seekin' vengeance an' revenge or simpleh teh beh rid ov any mention ov yeh nation be it Veletz er Adrian... Well, o'I onleh wish yeh luck wit' w'at comes next." He'd then stand, making his way to his dented and bruised set of armor given to him back when he was King. "Makin' sacrifices teh save yeh nation es somethin' o'I know all too well, an' o'I do nae wish teh same upon yeh." Ulfric would then move to sit back down, clearing his old desk of dust before writing exactly that which he just spoke to himself, before folding it and sending it on its way towards the capital of Adria. @Nooblius

An older dwarf shambles out of bed again at the news, disoriented and far sicklier after the Siege earlier that day. He'd give his wife a weary and tired smile as he took her hands and gave them a squeeze, before moving to prepare for the journey that was about to be had. He'd grab his coat, staff and a gift for the new King-elect, before hobbling over to the door. "o'I s'pose... if t'ere's one las' event teh make teh trip to, t'is would beh teh one. We'll beh back soon enough luv, o'I promise." @Lirinya They would then begin the journey back to Urguan, the last journey they would make for quite some time.

An older dwarf, beset by sickness, exhaustion and bedridden as a result, hears of the news by raven. Once told of the news by his wife, a tear would form in the old King’s eye, the first in many decades. Later that night, a letter would return with raven to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, bearing the sigil of the Frostbeard clan. ”To all my kin in Urguan, old and new, My time is brief, so I shall keep this letter so as well. What's most important is that we have lost a great King, a brave and courageous soul, a King who accomplished more than what was originally asked of him, I'm sure. I wish I could have been there in those last moments, but I know those that were shall keep his spirit alive and continue his good work past his death. And to whoever comes next as Grand King of the Dwedmar, I bid you good fortune. The crown wears heavy upon the soul, and the best advice I can offer is to surround yourself with good company, those that wish to see the Kingdom prosper, not themselves. Once that is done, all else comes easily enough. I wish you, future King, and all dwedmar the very best. May Garedyn the Emerald's prosperous reign continue forevermore, and may he be remembered for such when his soul is bid upon in Khaz'A'Dentrumm. Narvak oz Urguan, Narvak oz Garedyn the Emerald signed, Grand King Emeritus, Former Lord Chancellor, Lord Justiciar and Magistrate of Urguan Great-Grandson of Paragon Rhewen 'Papa Bear' Frostbeard Soon after the letter was sent would Ulfric begin to slip in and out of slumber, unknown when his ailments would finally break.

On another note, the inaccuracies and the lore written purely from a biased and singular POV isn't cool or appreciated whatsoever. There were many that contributed to its highs and its lows, and then some. No matter your opinions about us all, you could at least of acknowledged the time and effort others put in. If this was a forum post written in a RP viewpoint, fair enough, but it isn't. It's a realm application written out of character. At the end of the day, I have no issues with the realm getting created, but the way the application was written I do take issue with.

An old, retired King smiled as he viewed the destruction of the Keep and the routing of Veletz and their allies. "Teh betrayal ov Blackvale an' teh van Aerts in teh War o' Wigs shall beh avenged, teh grudge roighted. o'I gambled all o'I had. Mah reputation, mah people, an' mah Crown." "T'is toime o'I 'ave nothin' left teh lose but mah own loife, but even now o'I am willin' teh lose t'at as well."