SpookyLean

You walk into the Immigration office of Helena where you are met with a posh young man, seated behind his desk. He looks at you with a friendly smile as you catch his attention. “Hello! Welcome to Helena! Care to write you name down so you can stay up to date with all the ongoing within Helena?” He passes you a ledger filled to the brim with names. “Just sign your name there and you’re good to go!” - OOC - Helena Discord (Direct Link) HOW TO JOIN 1. Click either the image or the link below 2. Go to #Role-Request 3. Request resident or visitor 4. Ping @Moderator

“The culture in Helena grows as time goes by. This is what these AIS scum tried to take from us.”

*A dusty old Orc sits on a rock, telling a story to any of those willing to listen.* Days have passed since the Battle of the Sands. The Siege of Mount Augustus is underway and the Carrions face complete decimation by hands of the newly allied forces of The White Rose and Dwarves atop their last holdout. Urik’Azog has called a meeting atop of his grand temple to discuss their next move. “They fight each other now, brother. Look at them, our allies align themselves with the people we wished to destroy and have pushed us off to the side in favor of them.” Urik’Azog snarled, looking off towards the siege of Mt. Augustus. “Careful, brother....” said the hooded figure, staring into the flames of the brazzier. “Your anger will consume you. Think.” The hooded figure lowered his hood, revealing his horribly disfigured face. “The spirits granted us our vengeance at the Battle of the Sands against the Carrions. Now they grant us another opportunity. Can’t you see? The spirits never wanted us to destroy the home of these men as they did to ours many winters ago. If that Mountain Peak falls, the spirits will turn their back on us and the promised lands will forever be lost.” “Isn’t this what we wanted? To completely wipe out those Carrion-scum who aligned themselves with bandits whenever tides of war aren’t in their favor. The nether has completely warped your sanity, brother.” He chuckles dryly, turning his purple eyes over to him. “Brother, I see it far clearer than you will ever be able to. All our enemies have fallen and fear the horns of our war bands when we approach. We’ve accomplished all we’ve ever wanted, brother. The Ugluks bend their knee to an Azog Rex, something unthinkable when we were banished from the lands we rule now. The Kaxils, we feared them in our early years. Look at them, scattered and never to be heard of again. The Gorkils, our father clan, remained useless after years of attempts to recreate the facade of glory and honor Mogroka Gorkil sold them. But now our Clan’s name is spoken with fear by every single mortal on this continent. Even King Henry recognizes our power from the crypt he hides in, not even daring to show his face in the Battle of the Sands.” Maur’Azog shifted his hand above the fire, “But our place isn’t here, as Kings covered in gold, it's in the promised lands. And it is time to depart, but not after settling the score with the Roses... Fairly this time. You know just as much as I do, staying here will only harm us and our hatred is the only thing holding us back from reaching that what was promised to us. Forgive the Crows. We’ve settled it.” Urik simply exhaled, “You’ve lost your mind, brother. I hope you know what you’re proposing here..” An Orc peon rushes into the courtroom, hastily rushing to kneel before Rex. “The Lurs are rebelling, my Rex! They claim you’ve reigned as a tyrant and wish to place a female Lur in your place!” “A sign, brother. Our time is limited. These people cannot be saved, brother. Ours can.” “What of our ‘allies’?” He rested back into his seat, looking over to Warchief Snuup’Azog. “They underestimate our ability to shift the tide of war. As they always do. Wulfgar though, he would never understand our motives.” “None of them ever understood us to begin with.” “We silence them all now.” “What’s meant to be is meant to be, so the story goes on On and on and back and forth, the evolution’s absolute With a sword in their hand and honor in their name Wouldn’t hesitate if they had to kill, though they rather not Forever been the elephant in the room That everyone can’t wait to run and tell about The head to the body of the belligerent militant group That sponsors the revolution that will not be documented in the history books Decide to cross those lil' guys, you've obviously been ill-advised Yet and still, the question that arises to the mind Did they make it? Was it worth it? Did they win? Did they survive?” Relief from the Tribe of Azog Napier Collection

“It’s been a long journey here.” The Colonel walked up to a patch of settled dark soil. A tombstone right above it that read; ‘In Loving Memory of Nameless Soldier’. The war is over and finally the old scholar can sit down and spend some time with his son. As he had promised before. No more to fear a feeling he wished both had lived to experience but he was just as loyal to the Empire as his father was. “I’m sorry, son.” he slowly wept. “Nobody will remember your name from this war. But we will. The war is coming to an end. It's our time to join hands and ensure that all of our sacrifices will not be in vain.” On the horizon came a platoon of men dressed in Helena reds marching towards the capital city. Turning his head over to the cheers echoing throughout the valley where a lot of the war’s blood was spilled. Now men marched coming back from the front. “We’re all coming home, son.” A letter written by Darius Sabari to the servicemen of the Imperial State Army

NAME: Virgil [[MC NAME: SpookyLean]] RACE: Human IMPERIAL SUBJECT [Y/N]: Yes PEER OF THE REAM [Y/N]: Yes IF YES, OF WHICH PEERAGE?: Helena PREFERRED WINE: Something fruitful.

The Colonel stood from atop of his office, where watched Alren DeNurem give a speech to the troops. The glimmer of hope of every single one of them showed in their eyes. They found their purpose in every word of it. The young Captain had come a long way in such a short amount of time. “Strange times we live in.”

RP Name:: Darius Sabari MC Username: SpookyLean Discord: SpookyLean#3180 What Nation Are You Affliated With?: Oren Why Do You Wish To Come?: Escorting Architecus’ character Peter III What Skills Can You Bring?: The Colonel of the 1st regiment of the Empire. Skilled Logistics. Siege Weaponry Training.

Dude imagine calling a Admin like Cappy a gorilla back in the days...... LMAOOOO THIS **** WOULD NOT FLY

[!] A resume arrives with all public and classified information of the Colonel. [!] @Piov NAME: DARIUS SABARI AGE: 48 YEARS OF SERVICE: Twenty-One ACCOMPLISHMENTS: - ORCHESTRATED THE ESCAPE OF THE EMPRESS LORENA DURING HER CAPTURE AT RUBERN - REVITALIZED THE ENTIRE SECURITY SYSTEM WITHIN HELENA. - PROVIDED MEN FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE IMPERIAL LIBRARY - CREATED THE IMPERIAL SOLDIER HOUSING ACT DECLASSIFIED IMPERIAL STATE ARMY FILES RESCUE OF IMPERIAL CITIZEN LADY IN HIGH TOWER

“Isn’t this the one who kills BABIES?” he turned over to look at his fellow I.S.A. soldiers.

The 5th of Horen’s Calling, 1746 Muffled shouts can be heard drifting in through the hallway and past a large wooden door left ajar. Colonel Sabari sits behind a large dark oak desk, an ever-growing mass of paperwork dominates a corner of the wooden surface as the days affairs marched on. His hand gloved in a very fine yet sturdy leather hovers near his face as he occasionally strokes his chin in thought. As the clamoring outside comes to rest he knew it was time to address his congregation waiting diligently outside. In a smooth motion, he rises from his seat and without a thought grabs the imperial coat slung on the back of his chair; draping it smartly from shoulder to shoulder. In a matter of moments he was already through his office door and down the hall that was lit in a warm orange glow of the afternoon sun. As he would appear before the courtyard a loud crack would echo across the air as a legion of Imperial Army soldiers would snap to attention, the heels of their boots smacking together in unison. Giving a moment of pause before he spoke he would remark to himself proudly of what he saw. Brave men, both young and old, willing to lay down their lives for something that meant so much more than the sum of its parts. A slight smile would creep across his lips just before vanishing as he addressed his comrades. “Men of the Imperial Army, it is with great pleasure that I am able to stand before you today and share with you such great news. It is truly a sight to behold you all, shoulder to shoulder, in the colours of the Empire. The sacrifices you must make on a daily basis are of immeasurable magnitude. And such is the fact that you are all of a volunteer force, ready and willing to lay down your lives in service to this great Empire. If you have not heard it, I thank you. Your fellow citizens thank you, this whole city thanks you, and most of all your Emperor thanks you.” “In absolute recognition of your selfless and dutiful sacrifices, we of your upper leadership body would like to make your service to this mighty army even more worthwhile- past whatever justification you already hold dear. Veteran soldiers, after your fourth year of faithful service to the army, you will become entitled to your own homestead. One that is provided by the state and exempt from taxation. In addition, you will be awarded a plot of some of the Empires most fertile soil within which you may grow your own food, support your family, and contribute to a community of your own making. These homes shall be built by Imperial master craftsmen and shall adequately reflect our appreciation for what you all do for this organization. Take this opportunity to spread your roots and give increased meaning behind what it is that you fight for.” “Speak with your company sergeants or your brigade captains for further information regarding this announcement. I look forward to the future that we create together. Long live the Emperor, Ave Oren!” In yet another smooth and calculated motion, the Colonel performs an about-face and disappears from before the formation of soldiers and back into the red keep. His work never quite ending, he would return to his office. This time, the large wooden door would drift closed in his wake, ending with the light clank as the door latch finds its home with the stone frame. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Imperial State Housing Edict ENLIST HERE ((IMPERIAL STATE HOUSES IMAGES IN GAME)) To recognize the selfless service and sacrifice of our brave Imperial State Army soldiers, the following will become the rite of all eligible members. Upon the completion of one’s fourth year and until their final year of faithful service to the Imperial State Army, the member becomes entitled to the following: State-provided, tax-exempt, homestead within the walled confines of the newly dubbed Harlingen Estates. State-provided, fertile agricultural land plot within which any myriad of crops or livestock may be cultivated for the benefit of the member and the community of the Harlingen Estate. Access to the community stores of the Harlingen Estates. A modest tariff of 20% of all produced goods within the state-provided land plots shall be directly contributed to the Imperial State Army. Eligible members may invite their immediate family members to take up residence within the provided home and participate in the community of the Harlingen Estates. Additionally, non-eligible military members or Imperial citizens may be given access to the Harlingen Estates so long as they are sponsored by a current eligible member. Responsibility and accountability of sponsored individuals falls solely on the sponsor. The Imperial State Army encourages the establishment of familial military lineage. As such, as a soldier continues their service, increases in rank, and assumes higher responsibility; said members may enjoy increased and improved living conditions. This may come in many forms but most notably as larger and more opulent homesteads. Furthermore, veteran soldiers may continue to receive all of the aforementioned entitlements even after the conclusion of their military service through military lineage. Offspring may inherit said entitlements without having to achieve veteran status so long as they join the Imperial State Army as soon as they come of age; with these benefits extending to their respective household patriarchs. For each family member that joins from a veteran status household, they shall receive a service lineage pay bonus. ENLIST HERE

- Virgil DeNurem - “He had a head full of white hair!” Peasants speaking to Darius Sabari while he tracked down the DeNurem lineage Brief Description A lean young man stood there with his ethereal green eyes that pan around, his golden-white hair that sways behind his movements crashing into more fluffy strands of hair, looking for something to pique his interest. His eyes glimmered with every ray of light that struck his iris. Standing out like an owl caught by a beam of light in the night time. Easily entrapping people in his gaze with a simple look in their direction. 18th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1745 Kept from his true identity until the age of 12, Marcus was raised in the home of an active, wealthy Helenain family that has been maintaining the DeNurem linage under cover of being the bastard of a fellow kinsmen. Though as he developed, so had his questions and his realization that those who had claimed to be his parents were not really who they said they were, making him keep his head bald and taking the life of a peasant. To ensure that Marcus would never find out of his true lineage, his family gave him a potion that forcefully keeps any hair from growing. They were only two years off before, ultimately guaranteeing that he would never sprout another white lock. Though fortunate for Marcus unknowingly, having enough of all the routine he follows every morning. He finally began to ask questions and looking for the answers himself. Discovering his ‘parents’ were protecting his family due to the dangers of having a descendant of Mirtok DeNurem alive today with the lasting reputation he left and substantial claims to prominent titles within the Empire, he still could claim. Though no longer wanting to be kept hidden from the world, he decided it was time to step out to the world in hopes of reminding them of the name DeNurem. 11th of Owyn’s Flame, 1750 The Flames of Helena - Soon -

FULL NAME: Darius Sabari AGE: 47 RACE: Human RELIGION: Canonist REGIMENT OF CHOICE: 1st Regiment ((MC name)): SpookyLean ((Time zone)): EST

Heavy parkour skills and a lot of wandering around ?

If i had to say one probably the motto. tbh it kinda does but in the end all the friends i made have stuck around me. And those are the ones that count.

Been playing the server for a while now. 8+ years! Here are some of my achievements: Maur Azog Leader of the military force for the Ascended in Aegis known as the Followers of Aeriel Nether Champion for the nation of Hanseti ruled by the Teutonic Order under the reign of Gaius Marius. One of the three founders of Klan Azog One of the few survivors of the Nether that wasn’t perma killed in the event. Assisted in the founding of the first Hansetian settlement in the 2nd map with Mirtok DeNurem First Orc OrdenMarshall of the Teutonic Order First and only Orc to be properly recognized as a NOBLE in the Empire of Oren under Emperor Godfrey. Best battle I’ve fought in Kazimir Vladov 2nd generation Vladov Head architect of Castle Woldzmir and Kazarmir One of the elector counts that elected Hughes Sarkozic Marshal of the Duchy of Adria Yuri Vladov Youngest privy member under Emperor John frederick Organized the redesign of Felsen under John Sigismund Member of the Nauzica Guard under Sir Drevin and Sir Michael Hightower Only surviving Vladov from Kazimir’s line. Darius Sabari Scholar of ancient Hanseti Colonel of the Imperial State Army Orchestrated the escape of Empress Lorena Planning on playing a DeNurem character soon!

Darius Sabari grunts as he plops down to read the latest edition of The Tea. “Hrmm... Good stuff today.” He smirked knowingly, reading over the first page of the newspaper.

Wow so much work being done! I hope more people are quickly accepted into the World builder team so they can help too!

“A united Empire,” He smiles, holding his hand flatly against his chest.

((I had to condense the boring parts to keep it interesting))

The Last Of The Greatest Heroes Maur’Azog ‘Garrus’ Written by Darius The Last of an Extinct Breed In today's age, it seems like a hero appears at every battle in hopes of being remembered by their people. Yet none made an impact on the world with his selfless act of bravery such as this Orc has. He has seen it all, from the birth a Kingdom that is today still very prominent in the Empire to deepest depths no mortal eyes have ever seen the Nether — giving up everything to maintain our plane of reality intact. This is the tale of Maur Azog. Early Life His tale begins at the United Aegis Coalition's recruitment site outside of Kal' Urguan where he found himself the young Martin Benedict that sought to recruit him into the coalition, selling him on the idea that he will make a name for himself alongside him fighting the Undead. Though as much as he wanted to believe it, he eventually discovered that his service to the U.A.C. would go unappreciated by the Ascended when Martin Benedict was brought into their ranks, promoting him to a commander. Under usual circumstances, this would have been viewed as something to be grateful for, though, on one stormy night, the Ascended sent the U.A.C. on an infiltration mission on the Undead keep north of the ruins of Winterfell. The mission was a complete failure and cost the lives of many U.A.C. soldiers. Upon returning, Maur found many of his comrades departing from the U.A.C., most notably that of the departure of Abeam, a fellow orc who he shared the same ideals. Lost and disillusioned by this, he took a backseat as commander letting Sage Benedict take control, exonerating himself of any further responsibility. Under direct control of the Ascended, the U.A.C. rebranded as the Followers of Aeriel, which will eventually become defunct due to lack of a proper commander with the departure of the original six Ascended. A few attempts were attempted through all proved to be failures, as well. With a newly grown hatred towards the Ascended and their associates for their inept leadership for allowing romantic affairs to halt all effort in fighting the Undead, he left the Followers of Aeriel, and in the process, stole from the Ascended vault a vast amount of gold and diamonds which he used to buy himself a house in Al'Khazar. The Sariant As the years, the Undead taint began to spread outside of the gates of Al'Khazar. Inhabitants forced to evacuate down south. Having no intention to do so, he readied his house for the invasion to come. Bumping into his former brother in arms Abeam, with a letter of recruitment with a meetup location from the Teutonic Order despite never applying, he was accepted. With no better opportunities available to the lonesome Orc, he set off towards the location given to him. There he met a disappointed Mirtok DeNurem, wary of the Orc due to his race. He was meeting another person who thought of him something less. He didn't make it known to him directly, but inside he knew. He was the last thing he wanted to see or deal with. Despite this, he continued with his assignment and escorted the Orc to Konigsberg, the base of operations for the order. Upon arrival, he was greeted by the founder Hochmesiter Gaius Marius and one of his OrdenMarshalls. There was settled in and given the tabard that he would wear for the remainder of his time amongst their ranks. In the first couple of days, he learned that Sariant life was nothing like he was used to. The organization and discipline demanded from their soldiers were far beyond anything he experienced with the Ascended. There was little room for mistakes and little tolerance for disobedience. They were all here for a purpose. They were all wearing the tabard of the Teutonic Order. Though such order was not of his nature - he couldn't help but question if his home was really with the Sariants of the Teutonic Order. Thus, he took a temporary leave from his duties with a pardon from Gaius Marius and traveled to Krugmar, the home of all Orcs. Yet what he found was something completely abhorrent to him. Orcs outcasting others at best and at worst, killing each other. A primitive race destined to fail from its very conception. And as Maur saw this, nothing good can sprout from a race of people who revolve their lives around hatred for anything that challenges their ego. Naive and young Maur ventured forth, unable to accept that all his people acted this way. Luckily for him, he stumbled upon his brother, Urik Azog, who he had been separated for many years when he enlisted amongst the ranks of the United Aegis Coalition. He was always the opposite of Maur, hedonistic in nature, relishing in the rush of victory over another, always taking joy in his primitive race's pass times. However, Maur always excused this side of him; after all, Urik was his brother, and nothing could break the bond between these two. He knew a side of him no other would know; he knew deep down that the two shared the same opinion of the Orcs of Krugmar. Yet they held out hope for their people. He wanted something more of them though these were just the thoughts of poor naive boys yet to see the horrors that awaited them in the future. The Azog Upon meeting each other, Urik Azog brought his brother to Fort Azog. A simple name for a dull group of orcs at first glance. Urik brought him to the Wargoth Tadok Azog, the chief at the time, where they exchanged greetings and came to enjoy each other's company to Urik's surprise, Maur was brought under the Clan as an Azog — joining a family that he would proudly wear alongside the tabard of the Teutonic Order. Maur used his knowledge of redstone circuitry to create mechanics that would protect the fort against raids that were to come from the Dwarven military. Allowing the Azogs to be the only Clan that was able to sustain an attack without casualties. His knowledge would later be written down and passed onto the goblins that would later swear underneath the Azog Klan, thinking them as progressive thinkers. With his time with the Azogs, he assisted in creating laws that would forever be followed by every generation of Azog. Written on a stone tablet, stained by the Azog trinity's blood, the words were inscribed: "Azog Shall Never Kill Azog" The Scorching Fires of the Nether Maur went months alongside his Azog brothers before being called back into service by OrdenMarshall Samuel Bealcrest, informing him that Landmeister Mirtok DeNurem will be holding a debriefing on the impending assault on the Undead. Seeing this as an opportunity to finally be a part of something far more significant than just himself, he set off back to Konigsberg, where his arrival was received with a solemn nod from his Sariant brothers — giving him a firm salute, opening the gate for the Orc. There, he met DeNurem awaiting his arrival from Krugmar. There he remembered the words almost as he had been told them just now. "Pack up, Sariant. You're going to the Nether." Thinking this as a joke, the Orc laughed as he just a plain rookie, waving off the Landmeister's stern tone as a joke. The Landmeister is infamously known for his seriousness, just glared at the Orc. "You have three days until you depart with brothers Segari and Abeam." It was as the Orc had lived out this moment just yesterday as he reached this part. He never seemed to stumble on his thoughts or words during his retelling. On the day of departure, Hochmeister Marius bestowed the three champions of Hanseti their swords and gratitude for willfulness to serve the greater good alongside a scroll with their mission statement. 'Neutralize all threats.' With that, the three were escorted to be where the portal to the Nether was located — meeting up with the champions hailing from the Humans, Dwarves, Elves, and Orcs. The champions looked at each other, knowing what awaited them on the other side. Completely ignored the second debriefing given by the council of nation leaders, which were simple capture and escort missions. They only needed the direct orders delivered from the Hochmeister earlier. With a final glance towards his brothers, they walked through the portal and gazing upon the Undead citadel. The final push. Sariant Segari’s Journal -- The Nether: “Our Finest Hour” No one ever complained about the unbearable heat in the Nether. We never felt it. Even though we were blinded by the lava spewing from above, we could see the final end of Undead at the very end of our sword’s blade. Was it only a mirage? Perhaps. But on that day, in that damned dimension, one thing was certain, our blood ran hot with dreams of victory, destroying any obstacles that stood in our way. Provided by Maur Azog As soon as the champions set foot in the Nether, they went to work. The boots of the champions slammed against the ground all in unison as though they were a small trained platoon, even though known knew another. They all bonded over one common goal - destroy the Undead. None of the men communicated, dispatching every servant sent by the Undead swiftly. Only grunts of men swinging their blades and hammers into decaying flesh. As they moved closer towards the very doorstep of the Undead menace, the group had opened up loosely to prevent losses from incoming fireballs sent from the citadel. At this very moment, the men of Renatus had taken this opportunity to use the chaos as a way to dispose of the Sariants sent from their rival nation. Like snakes emerging from the grass, they struck at Abeam only to be sent into a pool of lava by Segari, losing his own sword in the process. The group quickly detached from the Sariants and Renatians, having moved forth into the halls of the citadel. A stare off ensued between the two opposing groups, the Sariants having nothing to say to the coward champions of Renatus. Maur and Abeam charging across the bridge with their blades up high to strike at the cowards. Though before combat between the two groups can ensue, a wave of Undead erupted from behind the Sariants and blew the bridge connecting to the entrance. The Renatians taking the chance to escape and leave the Sariants to their death. "An eye for an eye," they mocked towards the two Sariant Orcs as they scattered into the citadel. Segari looked towards Maur, tossing him his journal and his iron cross necklace wrapped in his mission statement. "Tell them my story, brother. Make sure this Sariant never dies in fires of this dimension." With a final nod, he turned and began tossing explosives towards the crowd of the Undead, sending bits and pieces flinging into the air. Hymning a final prayer as the final moments came upon him, the undead wave pushing him over the ledge and into insufferably burn in the fires. With a mission still needing to be done, Abeam and Maur charged into the citadel. As the two made their way towards the group. "Honor your promise, Maur. It doesn't matter where it is or when you do it. But honor it." Maur knew he held the life of another man in his hands. What are we if we don't harbor treasured memories? He asked himself. Everything his brother had experienced written in that journal, and he trusted him with it. “Of course, brother. On my honor.” As the three had come to find, the group had dwindled in numbers. All three of the Elven and Orcish champions gone with only the Dwarves and Renatians alongside the Hansetians. Though as they approached, they realized that the Renatians had attempted to convince the Dwarven heroes of an assassination attempt. Though unbeknownst to the Renatians the Teutonic Order had held a reputation to maintain a strict code of honor when dueling another. “That don’t sound like the Sariants of the Teutonic Order, fellas” spoke up the ginger bearded dwarf. “They lie to you, fellow champions. They struck first and caused the death of our fellow Sariant brother. Like snakes they are they try to use deception you, thinking you fools.” Sariant Abeam protested, pointing the end of his blade towards the Renatians. “That ain’t in the nature of a Teuton, not with Gaius Marius in charge. If you lot have quarrel settle it elsewhere. Otherwise, let’s get a move on with the mission at hand.” With that, the Dwarves trudged into a ritual room. Maur spotted a golden axe in the hand of a statue before moving on. With the two opposing groups left in the room, Renatian and Hansetian, the Renatians struck first again towards Abeam, the two so-called knights pinning the Orc up against the wall. However, the blast of Undead fireballs destroying the hall the dwarves had just gone down to which revealed a fall to the depths of the fiery pool of lava beneath them. This explosion sent Maur towards the opposite wall, rendering him unable to assist Abeam. Struggling with the Renatians, Abeam manage to get the upper hand pinning one of the two up against the wall, with an orcish grip he choked out the Renatian while his peer continuously stabbed at the Orc's gut with his dagger. As Abeam began to fall to his wounds, the wall behind the man was blown out, causing the two to fall down. As Maur came to, he looked to where Abeam once stood, only to find a hole in the wall that showed the ocean of lava beneath them. "Abeam..." he whispered to himself as he rushed over to the ledge to see Abeam, holding on tightly with a Renatian held around his legs. "Maur... go. Complete the mission." “Abeam, I can help. Let me.” “I’m done for already, brother. Remember the mission, brother. I completed mine. Go.” Abeam with a final nod, he handed him his mission statement before letting go and falling into the pool of lava below, killing the last of the Renatians. Maur felt the feeling he thought he would never feel again. The sense of hopelessness and loneliness. He was in literal hell by himself. Some say he shed his last tear here, for his fallen brothers. Still, disoriented Maur found his way out, ending up near the ground level of the Nether. From there, he made his way over to the Dwarves, assisting them in taking down Undead conjurers and all that stood in their way. The citadel had begun to collapse, and the mission was complete. The champions had successfully escorted the package to its destination, and only one thing was left. To get out. Though as Maur searched for his way out, he found he had no more will to continue fighting as the escape was being made. His vengeance was fulfilled; all threats were neutralized. He stumbled onto a rock, taking a seat as he watched the ceiling of the nether fall down in chunks and the Dwarves escaping through the portal. He tossed open the flap of his satchel, spreading out the paper that wrapped Segari's necklace. As he threw Segari's necklace around his neck, looking out at the lava ocean, he thought; It was beautiful in a way truly that only he understood. It wasn't something any mortal was meant to see, but Maur had seen it. A simple Orc from the U.A.C. who happened to find himself at the frontlines of the defeat of the Undead because of the Teutonic Order. He grabbed Abeam and Segari's mission statement and read over it. Primary Tasks: “Eliminate all threats” “Ensure the survival of Brother Maur” Hochmeister Gaius Marius OrdenMarshall Samuel Bealcrest Landmeister Mirtok DeNurem He could only laugh in his grief, shaking his head. It was bittersweet to know someone was always looking out for him, even in what seemed like a mission that ensured the death of those who were assigned to them. Maur tucked the items away in his satchel and clutched onto his soulstone as the Nether collapsed around him. Last Moments Fate had other plans for Maur Azog that night as his soulstone triggered sending him back to the ruins of the Temple of the Monks. The wounded Orc stumbled halfway towards the sailboats and found on the ground unconscious by a Rescue crew led by Mirtok DeNurem. They quickly recovered him and all of his belongings he collected from the Nether and escorted him to the Hansetian-Teutonic Order evacuation boat. Maur Azog died peacefully among his Azog brothers the night of the 16th of Horen's Calling, 1698. The same night this book was completed. The badges he earned during his service in the Teutonic Order were mysteriously delivered to his Clan with no name, but only an Iron Cross stamped in wax on the package. Today Maur Azog's actions can be seen as ways to honor his departed brothers in the Nether as he reached ranks no Orc has ever obtained in human history. His influence can be traced to the early history of Hansae, formerly known as Hanseti and the Golden Age of the Orenian Empire under Emperor Godfrey. Former titles include Hochmeister and OrdenMarshall of the Teutonic Order, Landmeister (Lord) of Grey Wall and Greywynn and Champion of the Nether. Feats: Assisted in the founding second capital city for Hanseti in Asulon First Orc OrdenMarshall and Hochmeister First Orc to be a obtain a land title in Hanseti Led the exodus of Sariants from the rule of Hochmeister Black Author’s Closing Thoughts When I set off on this journey to find relics that were never recovered from human history, I never thought it would lead me to a story deeper than what seemed to be a simple Orc raiding band known as the Azogs. These Orcs have roots in Human and Orcish history that can be traced back to the time of Aegis. Though what I found in this particular Orc called Maur Azog was something more encapsulating than I could ever hope to find. A real hero. And the real heroes go unsung about as human history has no mention of Maur’Azog’s existence. Sadly I found this once great Orc on his death bed, too late to be celebrated as he should have been. But maybe this is the way he wanted it? A quiet life removed from the public eye after much suffering, thinking himself a coward for leaving his brothers in the Nether although he’s far from a coward. One thing is for certain and that is that Maur Azog wasn't once a hero, he is still a hero to this day. We reap the fruits of his sacrifice the day he stepped into the Nether alongside the other Champions to this day. Written in memory of the real heroes of legend, the Nether Champions. Author’s Sources Archived books from the Great Library - The History of Hanseti (Teutonic Order Era) https://wikia.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Hanseti - ‘Our Tales of Valor’ by Grimwald DeNurem https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/133609-our-tales/?tab=comments#comment-1274522 - The Teutonic Order: Hall of Heroes https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/114637-the-teutonic-order-hall-of-heroes/?tab=comments#comment-1092675 - The Journal of Sariant Segari - Maur Azog’s retelling of events