AfroJoeTheOlogBro

"I knew he had passed and yet.....it hangs over me ever more now. The old fucker stole from me, but I think he more than deserved that piece of history for the Guild's collection....Ogradhad better bid well for him." The mechanical lord mused as he heard the official announcement of the elder Frostbeard's passing. He remembered fighting to help them reclaim Rhewen, and now his mood sobered once more, his thoughts held on his Frosty kin.

A metal lord ponders long upon the missive, memories taken back to his first festival of Belka, where he had met his first love....old memories indeed.

The machine lord looks at the other two signatures with a sigh, noting the lack of gravitas and dramatics his fellow lords held. But, they were still worth their ink in gold.....

1 minute ago, Unwillingly said:

would love to see black market rp on the server tbh

Thats the hope

"What in the...."

"To remember the brave fallen, what a commendable thing."

3 minutes ago, Mannamannaa said:

  Reveal hidden contents

Thank you for letting me know.

PLEASE REMEMBER IRP IS IRP, CONFLICT MAKES A GOOD STORY FOR EVERYONE, AND OOC SALTINESS SHOULD NOT BECOME THE FOCUS HERE. LET'S ENJOY THE GOOD PLOTLINE!

[!] OOC ANNOUNCEMENT [!]

Im so proud of you

Answering the Call

With the flurry of activity roused up by shamans and investigations, another missive joins the mess, messily scribed and copied with a crimson paste of berries and blood, pasted on the back of toalaks to spread the word.

"Da Motzham agh duh Moot kall on mi tuh bryng ztabiliti tuh dah landz of Krug. Mi haz been privee tuh duh inveztygazionz of duh buurz, agh az azh dat apprewvz of tradizion, mi maykez diz zhort agh zympal. Mi haz nub ambizion tuh be Rex, but if it iz mi duty, it iz mi duty. Mi, Murdok'Lak, komez tuh challenge mi old frend Ar'Borok'Akaal. Let duh Ilzgul dezyde in duh waiz of Honuh Klomp if mi iz truli fit tuh zettle duh throyne of Krug."

Stamped where a signature would go is the smiling toalak of old, its tongue sticking out in playful fashion. The symbol of Swampgoth.

The elder swamp goblin donned an old mask, granting him the visage of Laklul, a mask he hadnt worn since he was last called to the line of duty...

1 hour ago, AlaricGrimgold said:

“Wot de fok is a Khazad, nephe’? Do ye mean Dwed? When did ye develop a country Hundmarri accent?”

"Look old man, if Khazad and Khazadmar is good enough for Norli and Kazrin, its good enough for me."

The Golden Lord ponders for a moment upon the new missive swiftly scribed, taking in its contents entirely. Then, with a musing hum, he simply nods his head. "While debating on ones dwarfhood is a topic sensitive and close to my heart, one thing is certain. Durin was within his rights to be present amongst his forest kin. Even if he were not a forest dwed, khazad is khazad, and never have the Hefrumm folk been barred from matters of state. Why is it then they think it fair to bar one of their own from their matters? Rather peculiar..."

"Mi did nub gruk bout duh zhara Zarah forgoin duh merziez of duh zpiritz....nub'hozh. But, az azh zinkz, anothuh floatz."

The Lord of the Aurokanar scoffed at the news of the summons, shaking his head at Thalgrim. "The nerve of these upjumped forest kin thinking they can boss about. THE Rhun Prophet...itd be funny were it not so pathetic.....oh what the hells, ill laugh anyway." And so the gilded hall of the Goldhand's was filled with booming, raucous laughter of mechanical nature.

Somewhere, in the depths of the north, a machine's ruby eyes cracked under pressure, loosing tears of orange...

A disgruntled lord laments over how hes going to have to show up in person to take his reward and embarrass the bards that had no chance against his masterful poetry

The mechanical lord of the Goldhand Clan ruminates on the ill omens from his old friend, readying shield and sword, potion and poison, preparing to defend the fortress he once helped thrive.......

Yo its ya boy, da aengul slayah, here to yoink these crowns like the grinch on christmas. Bring a ding ding em over, baby!

Thank god and thank ****

"Agh zo, duh Wagh begynz in fewl, agh let duh Buurzhom be banyzheed wherevuh it be fownd" The elder gob nodded alongside his old brother as he scribed his signature upon the text.

(Sent across the realm of Almaris upon the backs of roaming toalaks comes a stream of parchments, bearing a neatly written message, though still written in the message maker’s typical berry mash ink, the words red upon the page….)
 

“It has been some time since I have regarded the world, or even my own kin, for the actions of great world changing have rendered fatigue unto me….but there comes a time where the injustices and disgusting corruption of strange lies and ruinous actions drive even elden bones to motion. To those that recognize my message for what it is, then you know who I am, and what I can do. But to those that do not, heed me well. I am Murdok’Lak, he who slew the aengul traitor of Arcas, he who has borne a thousand wounds and a thousand scars, he who is the Shaman Supreme. I have long since handed down my teachings and lineage to those deserving. Even now, my influence is felt upon the world by the actions of many shamans that have been created from my wisdom, and they go on to make the world better.

But.

I have returned to my kin, as visions have besieged my mind of horrid comings. In my return, I learn that caution when dealing with the unknown is not heeded, strange ilk claiming to be under the influence of the spirits roam the city of my people,  and strange blood shamans have risen, bearing an art they claim to derive from the Spirits. I have even learned that a ritual intended to summon Krug himself managed to only summon up the spirit of a Dark Shaman, and one of the Inferi kind. I have seen many things, and was present when the powers of the Spirits returned to the Children of Krug. I saw no such art, nor no such ilk, and certainly no such foolishness as to see my kin accepting things without question, as if the very idea of vigilance had left them. This will not remain.

I write this now to make my intention clear. I will hunt the heart of the evils in this world, starting with my home. With the purifying and renewal of Orcish Honor, we shall sweep through the land and strike out the very heart of horror that brews in the north. I have returned, as I always will, in the time of the world’s need, just as Krug did. If you read this, and know I come for you, you have but one chance to bend the knee to the Spirits and beg forgiveness. Allow yourself to be cleansed. If not, then run. Run far, and pray my spear does not catch your throat."

(At the bottom of the missive, in leu of a signature, a stamp of red is placed, displaying the image of a smiling toalak, winking with its tongue sticking out.)
 

"Mi grukked him well of hiz ztudiez. Al-Uk kontinews tuh mayke mi proud....perhapz it iz tik mi blahz wit mi old brudduh azh more..."

The elder Lak heeded the call as it found him easily, carried aloft by kinsmen that had sought him out in the depths of the jungles. Seeing his particular name upon the summons, he grinned wide, though the excitement he felt for an honorable death was cut by the rampancy of what haunted his mind as of late. The visions, were they to be believed, spelt ruin and doom....but perhaps such fate was yet set in blood and stone...

The elder shaman opened his eyes wide, a shriek of horror on his lips as he is roused from the deep visions that plagued his soul in recent years. It wouldnt take much longer for word of such terrible tidings to reach his ears, though what an old goblin could do with such, he did not know....

With hands united upon the pinnacle of alchemical achievement, it has become prudent for the two to understand each others arts...

In far off, winter highlands, the TRUE Clan Father of the Goldhand clan sat in his home, beloved at his side. He hadnt actually seen the declaration of a new Clan Lord, but something in his mechanical heart of golden cogs and diamond twitched. There was a shift in the Goldhand Mina Force.....he could sense the disturbance....but then he simply waved it off with a hum and a nod, offering a quick prayer to Armakak for blessed tidings for any Goldhand shenanigans to come.