__Hergh

A certain 'thill who had taken up residence within the silver cihi rose a silver brow at this missive. Though little did she say of such matters, having chosen the easy route by returning to Haelun'or - silent praises would be offered to the Ranaleth and their kin, though for the rest; she had decided to pay no heed.

@AnimeWolf0080 GOOD JOB!!!

AIGHT I HAVE A LOT FOR THEME SONGS Aiyeis, Liadain, Josef, Morrigan, Suika, Letha, Lorelai, Ayal, Adiria, and Jeanne

The Princess thinks back to when she had requested he lose six of his fingers, unfortunately such was denied.

The aforementioned Crown Princess of the Barrowlands looks over the missive, some manner of extreme disgust forming upon her features as she was reminded of those words in specific. The Adunic woman is truly glad for the punishment the adulterous lech was sure to face if he were foolish enough to take a step into the Kingdom of Barrowton. Even more so for the dishonor placed against her virtue, and for his willingness to betray the woman he was bound to marry.

Yayyyyy mushroom forest!

A random ginger Pendraic would give a thumbs up at this missive.

“Who the hell am I going to banter with now? Myself?” The Py’lrie mutters, rereading the missive for a fifth time before crumpling it and flinging it out her bedroom window. Despite the aggression, the mali’aheral would truly miss her father.

"Very bad definitely," The Py'lrie murmurs in response, glancing at the missive the redhead was reading for a moment, before returning to reading her own books in the fluff pit.

”The Tale of Loose Ends” The coin flipped. . . Short was the story of this young Thuri-Elendil, one who wanted only for those of Cartref Mor to feel pride in her actions. Now, in death, she is released to join the ancestors. To look over those still left in such times. It spun in the air. . . Poor decisions had led her to this point, as that olive hue of hers fixed upon her cousin. Regret clear upon her scarred features as she questioned her decisions thus far. Though she tried to survive, truly she did as his ax was sent towards her head. Ducking down she would attempt to avoid his blade, but weary from lack of sleep, and likely a bit too much to drink she would fail. The adunian’s body slumping as the sharp edge of the ax went through her skull. “Heads” Called Ailsa Shortly after, that beloved cousin of hers would drop his weapon, clinging to her limp form, as the aged gift of her father, a wolf cub that had been gifted to her years prior watched on. Betrayed she was by his decisions in life, but in death, all she wished was to have been given the chance to say goodbye. Tales, it landed. For her life was to be written as such. . . Barely was the youngling given time to accept her death, nor did she fully accept it upon passing for there were many more she wished to speak with. To duel with, and dine with. No longer was that possible as she fled her once lively body. Scarred from the life she had lived. To the man she married when unready she wished merely for him to see the darkness in his future as she had seen it when she tried to save her and her children. To her father who had left her alone to be raised by those strong adunians, she wished for him to remain unknowing of her death. For those years he had left not to be spent mourning this loss. To Aurelion, a man called monster who still had some humanity in that aged body of his, she hoped only that he held pride for the one he called daughter whilst she lived, even while she tried to leave him. To Alruna Black’hil, Ailsa wishes only for her to find herself in this harsh world, no longer able to protect her as she promised. To those few Adunians left still from Cartref Mor, she hoped only for them to one day find peace. Unity. Even if she could not be there in person with them. For her children, the adunian would wish upon them a peaceful, happy life, knowing full well how hard the future would be. To those elves that had aided her in her times of need, Nememne, Elarhil Sullas, and Nehtamo, she wished only for them to live safe long lives. For Fritjof Maor, politely, the adunian only wishes for him to burn in hellfires. As the coin stands 50/50, so too did her head. . . For the one who took her life, she cared little, it was bound to happen one day or another, at least her death did not end without remorse. To the family of the deceased… I love you, all of you. Fiadh, Aodhan, Liadian, Melian, and Aonghus. I love you all, yet here is my goodbye. “May the ancestors guide you on your path, and may they be longer than my own. I love you, my little wolf cubs, and my beloved knight. It seems my death came earlier than expected. Be well all.”

Blah, no skin, too many characters 👁👁

"Ah it appears the norlandic fools won the battle and lost the war," she mutters, a slight smile being cracked as the Thuri-Elendil went to stand, walking about the Cartref Mor grounds doing knight stuff.

I am indeed the player of the mother.

Sienne sits comfortably within her abode, eyes fixated on the missive as she gave an appreciative nod. “Yes egg them on, those foolish god worshippers.” -Written whilst at work by a sleep deprived Taco Bell employee