Brevias

Brevias silently enters the council. Before seating himself he looks across the many familiar faces in the room. He takes a seat off to the side and watches the conversation until he feels apt to begin speaking himself. While he observes he begins to pack, then light a bowl of tobacco in his simple wooden pipe and blows smoke rings into the air.

3 lil words, now this thread is all about "pot" Why cant we talk about the matter at hand >=I

My thoughts exactly.

This post is here to answer questions, stop being pests.

I'm a little discouraged at what I've seen coming back from a recent break and I'd like to get things out of the way. I've decided to step down from being overlord, and undead in general. Yes, I do want my position to go to Allen. You (Allen) put a lot of effort into being undead, and I see nobody more cut out for the role other than you. I took my staff, seeing I played little to no role in the undead lore, neither did the staff. It has no real power, simply a trinket of mine imbued by Krug that I prefer to carry around. My decisions to leave the undead are for a few reasons. First off, I'm simply bored of playing the "bad-guy", and when Shoi had cleansed me I take that as lore-cannon. However, to all of you complaining that undead cannot go back, don't forget how many ascended have turned undead, and it is only fair otherwise. Long story short, I wish the best to the undead, but I don't want to deal with the stress and stuff of it anymore. That's pretty much it, if something doesn't make sense lemme know and I'll be glad to explain.

Edit : If it's not a question, don't bother posting it. Don't pollute my posts with your crap.

(( This is all invalid, I took my staff with me, you've simply got the staff Tyrion spawned in for the chest. ))

(( So, did this actually take place or just excellent story-crafting? Either way, I like it! ))

Extremely entertaining, I demand MOAR!

(( I saw you perform this piece in front of the Laurelin gate, it was VERY well done. I encourage you to keep doing this! It's unique and I love it! ))

(( Hey, I love to gloat about this. But being the server's first shaman after Or'gok I have advice. First off, find a existing shaman such as Lex, Tre'bok, or Nel'thok. Be wise, play the part, speak with eloquence and be a symbol of orcish wisdom and ingenuity. Good luck, there's not enough good shaman's to my knowledge. Who knows, you could be the next elder one day. :o ))

This thread is hilarious. Undead approved!

How about me :D?

No dice bucko.

So is there gonna be some hidden chest filled with diamond blocks?

If there was, would I tell you?

*Raises up sleeves* I bet I could find this...Also, did you entirely steal the name from the idea of the dragonborn in Skyrim? Dovahkiin, Hovakiin, that ones pretty obvious.

Yep, monkeychez's idea.

(( This has little to do with the undead, merely a side project me and Monkeychez worked on.))

*As you walk through the wilds, you hear an odd noise as your foot hits the ground near an old oak tree. You tap again and it sounds as if something hollow is beneath your feet, and you scratch away the dirt you find a small chest. Inside this chest you find a journal, worn, decrepit, and about to crumble in your hands... You can barely make out the dates, but by common knowledge and dialects you begin to think it may have been written in the 500-700s. It reads.*

We lament for our lives, the end is nigh.. Hovakiin cannot last much longer. It hath since been four a month since the world shattered under our feet. Our constructs have taken much abuse, our watchtower has fallen, our place of worship has sunk into the sea. Horrible beast crawl forth from the gaping pit in the bottom of the cave. Beings neither man nor pig devour our young, vile white creature obliterate our homes from the sky, there is nothing we may do to save ourselves. We flee to Oren which lies in the northwest.. Orcish soldiers might be encountered from the southern area of our path, we can only hope we survive our mass migration. My third wife's bakery is where we dwell, but I hear them pouding on the door, I must flee --

*The writing stops there, in the small chest you also find a locket with a scratched out note inside and a small key. You feel a need to search out the town*

(( The ruins of Hovakiin ARE in the wilds, do YOU have what it takes to seek them out? ))

Bahaha! You are correct in your assumptions mortals, your "Lily" now dwells within the nether, she belongs to Iblees now. She addresses herself as Lycrosis, and dare you do any different you will all perish!

More lambs to the slaughter! None will be spared!

I'll miss you!

Setting terms ahead of time is a +. I like this idea.

I recommend him, he's a great RP'er and seems like he could get the job done.