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TiredElfGuy

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  1. Malithor would take a moment to read over the missive, a derisive snort escaping him as he crumpled up the paper. “Haelun’orian scum-” he’d mutter, tossing the paper lazily into the fireplace. He would smirk as he returned to his recliner, his eyes shutting as he drifted off. His rest was only made better by his witty response. Smoke. It was the first thing he saw as his eyes startled awake, his hands moving nursingly to his burn-covered throat. His desperate gasps for air denied by the thick smog that now permeated the room. His eyes would dart around in a primal panic, the ‘thill
  2. TiredElfGuy

    TiredElfGuy

    Solaris Renathill has been called many things through-out his lifetime. Quiet, bookish, timid, but in the most recent of years he has found himself being called something entirely new and totally unexpected; Snaga. Upon his arrival to Arcas both he and his father were plucked from the roads and dragged off to heat scorched city of Krug'mar. The past few years of servitude have not been kind to the Renathill’s, and their Uruk captors even less so. His father a Mali’thill of immense pride and courage did not last manage to earn his freedom as his unwillingness to serve a lesser race ended in his
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