Xergarok

Though my character has nothing to do with this or can't experience it, I really enjoy seeing these posts every so often. I can really dig the Prophecy-niche, a smooth way to drop things into RP.

As Grimdal Irongut returns from his trip to the sea he enters with slumping steps and a head hung low, staring at the path laid out in front of him. He rubs his forehead, weary of the events of the day as he receives the news. Tired as he is he takes a seat, attempts a smile and reads over the document. He puts his elbow on the table, leans on his hand with his head and allows himself a single tear for the overwhelming experience of the last ages. "Dungrimm believed, Ogradhad guided..." he let out before deciding to try and sleep at the table in the centre of the capital despite his house being less than two minutes away.

From the Lyes lore I surmise that if she has a moment to think she can use the entire Nebula against foes. Why didn't she? I understand this is a sneaky mission of stealth and speed, but even if they got the drop on her why couldn't she resist? The lore of Lyes makes a big deal of her being unable to escape nor does it specify what would happen if she did because it would have undefined consequences. Vaasek isn't the Daemon of Dreams, while I can imagine he can lock her up within her own realm, I don't see how he could mimic a sub-plane bubble within his own realm. Wouldn't the Nebula break apart? Even if he could ambush and trap Lyes, how is he able to do it via some coma-like Dream? I'm unfamiliar with how Dragur dreams, but I don't see why this has ever been Vaasek's domain. Perhaps Vaasek can induce sleep, but how can he trump Lyes at her own domain of existence? As far as I'm aware Lyes has no physical body to be bound. The original lore is vague, I admit, but it just raises questions. So Vaasek controls Dreams and gives his agents tools to do so too, much like Lyes and her Patrons? How does Vaasek have time for this? Seems like a full-time job to host dreams. Would nobody notice this change? Do the dreams stay the same? All of this being said, very nice lore. I like how Lyes is implemented into this given it's very dormant lore, even if I don't necessarily agree yet with how she's tied into this. I hope it gets accepted once more, good luck with future writing!

Grimdal Irongut would have been riding around on his ram within the frigid waste for weeks. As he got home to Kal'Darakaan, a bunch of adventurers would recount their tales. He stroked his beard, still weary from the travelling, as he spoke to some of his associates about it. "An ore 'o old, aye, t'at wot t'ey said. Mhm, oi can t'ink 'o ah few, bu' et's dangerous. Mhm... Wot are meh waiten fer?" The following morning a group of dwed, concealed by their thick coats, set out on their sleighs ands rams with their equipment and food.

Grimdal Irongut would be seated for the entirety of the coronation. He listened attentively and shouted in turn when the moment called for it. He was, surprisingly enough, at peace. A great ambience filled the throne room for hours to come during the celebration. "Now begin dah days 'o Bakir Ireheart. May Ogradhad grant 'im dah wisdom 'e needs."

Grimdal Irongut had already prepared for this moment. He decided, with all that was happening in the world, that he could try and enjoy this occasion as he put on his new robes. He told his son Gromdrumir to put on his good clothes after which they both attended the coronation shortly after.

Grimdal Irongut would put a reminder in his agenda. He prepared himself mentally for the challenges ahead, treating his wounds and preparing his weapons. "Sigra oz Dungrimm!"

Grimdal Irongut would have read the announcement before departing on a mission. He nodded, glad to see the meeting hadn't been empty promises and arrangements. He stroked his beard, visiting the library once more as he thought of the books they would soon recover. "Ogradhad believes." he said.

Grimdal Irongut would, like most of his kin that lived within Kal'Darakaan, have heard of the betrayal before the release of the official statement. He couldn't believe it at first because it didn't make any sense. Did Urguan, even if it decided to give over a piece of land to Oren, not have land enough for the Goldhands? Did they not have enough means to simply move their tavern? He rubbed away some sweat from his brow as he scribbled in his notebook. "Oi 'ope dah Brathmordakin may guide dah Goldhands en times tah come..." he muttered to himself.

Grimdal Irongut would return to the capital after his short journey. He spoke to some of his kin, soon learning about the recent events. He grew quiet, memories of the past slowly finding their way back to his consciousness. "May dah Brathmordakin value 'is sacrifice." he said, taking a seat. "Shoite..." he said as he stared at the ground.

A masked figure would solemnly lean on his staff as he stared at the ocean beyond Huaven. The wind that found its way through the Urguani mountains would pull at his cloak. "A shame I wasn't able to get to know you better. May the Afterlife rid you of your troubles." he said quietly before disappearing between the trees.

An oblivious mushroom man would reach the Citadel the morning after the carnage. As he saw smoke rise from beyond the pristine gates his eyes grew wide as he leapt on all four on the steep stairs to reach the courtyard. "Oh no. No, no! Noooo!" he shouted as he dropped his sack with freshly clipped roses from the cliffs of the island. "Oh Anbella please!" he pleaded in panic as he searched for familiar faces.

Very noice to see it's not a Voidal-only endgame-feat. If only there were a way to make it work with Afflicted... Food for thought?

A mushroom man would be working in the Haelun'or sewers, obviously cultivating mushrooms. He headed up to his burrow for a nice cuppa tea and as such read the news of the day. "Oh no... T'eyre assaultin' buuks? Can't say oi can appreciate t'at, oi donated ter git access on dah last continent... Per'aps oi shu' check ef t'eir burocreaceh remembers t'at." He spoke to himself as he headed out, only to learn of the more recent raids that had taken place.

"Oi ain't even 'eard aneh explanation or account t'at resembles t'es one before. Unless dah truth 'as been maliciousleh hidden, oi dun't understand woi t'ey offer t'is complete account suh late. Ridiculous, almost as ef t'ey want an uproar tuh t'en claim dah moral high ground boi providin' dah truth." the beardling muttered. "T'at es, ef et's dah truth at all... Nae wonder, seems loike ah tendenceh tuh announce grudges 'n provoide testehmonehs ages aftah dah facts w'en few can confirm t'eir probabiliteh." Eventually, after ranting to himself and speaking out loud as he tried to put pieces together he noticed the lack of signatures or stamps. "Fok meh." he said quietly, adding it to a file with inadmissible documents.

Grimdal Irongut had been sleeping in the Eternal Library as the events unfolded on the first level of the Citadel. As he learned of what had happened the next morning his reaction was one of general disbelief. "Bullshet!" he called out. "Ain't no raids from Lubba keep! T'ere ain't no reason tuh! Wotcha gonna tell meh next? T'at Urguan es tunnelling undah dah Citadel tuh collapse ets fundaments? Absolute folleh!" he said.

Grimdal Irongut marvelled at the news. He would yell "Let's fokken goooo!" to himself, people nearby would arch a brow at that until they too heard the news. "Let's fokken gooooo!" they all yelled.

Grimdal Irongut took off his metal mask, swiping off sweat as he read the missive as he took a seat. "All guud 'n well," he commented, appreciating the martial arts of his kin as he wrote in his book. "But wot dah fok makes t'es Ireheart dah People's King? Per'aps sumfin tuh luuk entuh..." he grunted, collecting his ancient warpick as he headed outside.

A Beardling would receive the news through various sources. He sighed, covering his mouth as he gave the situation some thought. "Trubblesome..." he muttered.

"Okeh," the now hot-headed dwarf huffed as he was tripped. "Toime tah c'ange our tactec! May dah Brat'mordakin bless our games!" he roared to his team.

"Fault! Fault!" he yelled to the referee, almost throwing in a punch too before he was hauled away by his compassionate team.

"Oh t'ose darn Beserkers almost got us good!" Grimdal huffed, relieved as the slaughter came to an end.

"Let's fokken gooooo!" A fanatical Miner-fan yelled when he saw the scores.

"Piss off wet yer 'nae Beardlings'-rule!" Grimdal shook his fist, thinking of how to get his name into the goblet of fire championship.

After the long council meeting the Beardling had fallen asleep in his chair. Apparently the longbeards had left him to sleep, or perhaps they had forgotten about him entirely; it was early the next stone day when the news reached him. His mouth opened to gape for an awkward 30 seconds. "T'es can't beh, can et? Ah t'ought Azdromoth was loike ah creature en some distant realm or sumfin, nae ah giant bein' sleepin' in some far corner 'o dah werld!" the Beardling huffed and puffed, clutching his head as he pitied the families of those who had perished in the hellfire. "May t'eir Gods guide t'eir souls." he said quietly, heading for the temple.