Valannor

Shattered, the soul of the Hound lingered - and as another favored foe passed into the beyond, Aleksey rasped a prayer for the Lector. The Skies would take this one; and they would cherish him deeply.

A Leal Wyrmstalker stiffened in her nightly patrol, her gaze drawn westwards from the eastern plains, o'er hill and across the rill. She frowned, then placing herself cross legged before the shrine which bore her camp - and she looked to the words carven upon worn stone. A golden helmet, a replica of that bore by a man far greater than any of her fellows, greeted her countenance then. She lit a candle, and placed it upon the altar. "Carry them gently this good night, Brother Athna. Ne'er will I know all my kindred, but I will mourn their passing all the same. Whoever they were - let their name echo for aeons. Let their deeds be legend."

[!] A missive would find itself nailed to the signposts around the Atoll Grove, and the draconic territory of Nahldroth. In the august mercy of the Embered, the individual known as the Flaming Eye, Leader of the Nephilim, has been taken into our caring custody. Dragonkind and its supporters have a saint’s hour to retrieve him - a price shall be paid for this, and the stars will shine with a new constellation this night should it not be paid. The Embered do not forget. Non Draco sit mihi dux; no Dragon shall be our lord. You know where to find us, Nephilim. Salvation is our Liturgy.

How does one become the degenerate creature known as a "chug-jug Fortnite gamer"?

Elsewhere, a Herald of Barrows grumbled about the waste of perfectly good souls. The Orenmar died, however. This was always a good tiding.

It's about god damn time.

Within the sullen depths, dark things slept. The raucous cry of Industry pierced the silence. Within the sullen depths, dark things roused. The crypts were reforged - but that which lingered had recovered it's strength. Within the sullen depths, dark things gazed upwards. The sun did not dare shine here any more. All would die. The chain would be broken. Within the sullen depths, dark things had been awoken. The Judgement below, given righteous mandate to decide that which Was, and Was Not. Within the sullen depths, the collective made it's choice. It Was. They Were Not.

On this episode of LoTC, Mordu invents the concept of malicious, insidious evil. Tune in next time, where he invents alchemical throwing Legos!

Cows have intercourse right in front of you. You fool, you craven!

A Leal Wyrmstalker took a swig from her cup of fine Dwarven tax-man whiskey as she delighted in the transcript of the Gib Garak Experience. "Well, if we're speaking purely in terms of power, I don't believe Enrohk would quite be able to defeat Order in a straight duel... Unless the entirety of the Orcish race was to pray to him during it. Malchediael versus Order on the other hand... Hrm. I'd pay to see that. And don't you get me started on those gods damned Templars! The Elvenessi ones are naught but thieves I tell you..."

I am incredibly pleased with this submission out of you, Slorbin. Very impressed.

Unique idea, quality builds. I'm impressed.

UNCLOG THE FROG

And the outrage machine continues to churn. Over a god damn frog.

A Fractured Beast, scattered across the Wastes, mourned the passing of one too good for this world.

And so the Shepherd wept for the loss of one of his flock, and thenceforth knelt in prayer - releasing a dove to guide her to where she wished to go...

A Servant of the Barrows knelt in prayer for the passing of another legend that night - for he knew more than most that one need naught be tall to change the course of history.

A Herald of the Barrow-Downs came to glimpse such errant words - and the cold breath of the grave left pale lips, rolling as ethereal smog in the unhallowed grounds. "How wonderful... Perhaps this pawn might yet be made useful, if he were to loose that venomous tongue..."

Farewell good soldier, don't die while you're gone. Ascend beyond the Kraft

I give you a lot of shit, Minth, but you're one of the few who don't need a magic to rp a thing out to its fullest extent. Props to you, honestly. Very proud of how far you've come from full newbro hours. Raise hell for us, won't you?