Dizzy771

((Just making some clarification for this point, not actually involving myself in this WC. The navy itself was originally constructed and maintained mainly by Zahrer Irongrinder (Josh3738) not the kingdom of Urguan. He moved the boat in RP, as was his right as the builder, owner, and maintainer of the ship. If you want to know exactly what the RP was to move the ship.... well... its the RP in this post actually https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/123192-into-the-west/. This does mean that no, the ship will not be required to return, but neither will it be present for the battle.))

First

High on the precipice overlooking the dwarven port, a single dwarf stands. The wind curling around him like a hungry serpent as he watches the solitary vessel leave port. Dizzy Irongrinder, one of the last of his clan, turns away from the sight of Zahrers departure. Descending the rocky cliff side he makes his way to his home in Kal’Karaad. A place in which days past held so much promise for his kin, lay quiet for him. The only thing betraying his stoic appearance, a single tear running down his cheek. To many passerby, the sound of hammer on anvil would be a familiar one. However, the ringing of molten steels forging does not come from Dizzys home any longer. The flame that once shone brightly from the window of the young dweds home now stands desolate, snuffed out like a candle in the mountain wind. “May your honor, and your heart, shine bright like the forge…” as the old dwed song went… It appeared as though this dweds heart had crumbled from bright ember into naught but ash. Days pass, turning to weeks, before the door to the smiths home opens once more. A weary and battered look upon his face as he starts for the grand gate of Kal’Karaad. Dwarves from all around the city gather around him as he passes, whispering and pointing towards his broken figure. Stopping just before the gate, he turns towards the gathered dwarves. Looking across the faces gathered he nods slowly as he begins to speak to the crowd, as he had done in times past. This time, however, was different… “My fellow dwed, look upon our kingdom now and see what lies within. What have we wrought but folly? When pride turns to arrogance, knowledge to inanity, and love to greed? We have let our once mighty kingdom fall low to the perversions of our honor. I believe in each and every one of you lies the true spirit of the dwed. The true spirit of honor, courage, and sacrifice. You can throw away past grievances, grudges, rivalries, and become the kingdom you were meant to be.” A faint glimmer can be seen in Dizzys eye as he speaks, a flame like that of the forge. “When I came to this kingdom as a young dwed… I had nothing. I joined the legion and worked every damned day just for a living. All people saw that I had to my name was a bunk in the barracks and a rusty old axe… but I had something else. I had faith in my kingdom, and my people. I kept fighting, no matter how grim the situation seemed, no matter how dire the consequences. I kept fighting for all of you. I rose slowly through the ranks at first, eventually earning enough pay to purchase a home. It was then things began to look brighter for me, as I even sought out to trace my lineage. I was fortunate enough to be found by my clansmen Zahrer, who took me in and treated me as a brother. I, but a poor lowly soldier, felt I belonged. Brought together and bound by blood, family, and most of all, friendship.” Sighing deeply a pained expression crosses Dizzys face “With my ascension of the throne some years later, I sought nothing but to give back to the people who had made me feel like I belonged. I tried my damndest to do the best job I could, but to little avail. I do not begrudge those who followed after me, nor do I look unkindly upon those who dethroned me. No, I only sought yet still to help them, for should I have been too weak to wear the crown then at least I should be strong enough to maintain it.” “Years passed and I collected many accolades and titles to my name. I have been a slayer of beasts, monsters, and abominations. I have been a scholar, retrieving ancient knowledge, artifacts, and culture. I have been a warrior, fighting to protect the kingdom and its people. I have been a smith, possessing the knowledge of golems, runes, and a mastery of metal unsurpassed in our age…” His face darkens as he gazes across the crowds gathered around him “But it all feels for naught… as this is not the same kingdom I fought for. This is not the kingdom I wept, bleed, and endured for. This is but a twisted and hollow shell of a once glorious kingdom.” Dizzy turns away from the crowd, his voice still echoing through the city “I believe in the dwed, that one day you may rebuild what has been lost…..” He turns back to the crowd once more, the same betraying tear streak flowing down his face. “I believe in all of you… but I cannot fight anymore. I cannot bleed, work, or hope…. only weep. This is not the same kingdom” Turning around once more he begins to depart, walking down the stairs out of Kal’Karaad. But a single phrase echoing from his lips through the silence of the city “This is not my kingdom. These are not my people” Would any dwed come to inspect Dizzys home they would find nothing remaining, but a small pedestal in the forge. Laying on it, his ancestral helm of which he never parted with, and a small note Many places I have been Many sorrows I have seen But I don’t regret Nor will I forget All who took that road with me And though where the road then takes me, I cannot tell We came all this way But now comes the day To bid you farewell I bid you all a very fond farewell ~Dizzy Irongrinder

relocking post. I will also be asking an unaffiliated moderator to come and survey the area to decide if TNT can be denied for the battle or not. Expect a post by them on here shortly.

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locked and archived as per request of OP. Election was started prematurely.

Someone payed for this. Just keep that in mind

First?

The elderly man continues to shake his head vigorously as he hears of the arguments. He sends a letter off to the "High Prophet" of Wyrvun "Greetings, friend. What, pray tell, can you tell me of your religion? I have never heard of any sort of "cult of Wyrvun" before, and furthermore have never heard of Wyrvun blessing your kind. Anything you can tell me would be grand" The letter is signed with only the initials S.T.

An elderly old man with a long grey beard and donning a grey coat raises an eyebrow in surprise "I.... Wyrvun had a cult?"

Admittedly I have not really done much in terms of /creating/ lore before aside from in my events as ET.... but I believe I could fill the position quite nicely. I am active (perhaps not a huge concern, but it helps) friendly, creative, and I like to think knowledgeable on a fair amount of currently standing lore. I am a decent writer, perhaps not as fantastic as other current LM's, but I believe my other skills more then balance that fact. Also, it should probably come as no surprise that I am most knowledgeable in dwarvish related lore.

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((Ancient dwarvish for dwarf))

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I'm a GM and this is how I feel right now

Dizzy Laughs once more "Tu prophets decioded a way tu allow tu brat'mordakin tu decide in order to avoid t'ere own bais, bless t'em fer t'at. Alsu, strange ye s'ould quote Midgor tu "Tyrant" as propaganda against Za'rer w'en ye fail tu realize t'at 'es tu un w'o 'ad t'ese broken articals drafted."