Gallic

Fiil’Yar sends her distant support to Durgar, in the form of a dozen Cactus Cookies and a small note; “Set an example for others to follow.”

Another moon rises over the distant valley which Fiil'Yar calls home, far from the sounds of Krugmar's streets and warmachines, yet as darkness encompasses all, she remains awake: Pondering over the work she'll get done tomorrow far into tonight's midnight hours. Restlessness isn't uncommon for her, evading sleep until the last possible moment, but lately insomnia has become routine again. Her dreams have become vivid and strange and leave her feeling more exhausted in the morning than when she laid her head. Dreams of falling from her bed into seemingly limitless depths of colors and disordered sound, finding she lacks arms, legs or any bodily feature at all yet can move with some cosmic volition among the chaos. Exhausting dreams. Awake she sits, swaying with an involuntary nod over a docket she prepares. Each dip of her head, her eyes flutter closed for longer, struggling to focus on her moving quill. She nods until finally one falls so low that her head touches her desk, and there it lays. As usual, sleep came suddenly and without her choosing, though this time it came without the dreams that normally afflict her... Whether a reprieve from her routine or failing to rest her head long enough to see them. The realization that she was asleep indeed only came when she was startled awake, feeling something brush against her leg down below. She jolts away from her desk and looks down to see two yellow eyes staring back at her; Beside her stands a coyote, somehow unconcerned with being caught, as if it had intentionally sought her attention. A wry, clever creature. She stares on in surprise and amazement at the canine so bravely staring her down, sharing a silent moment of connection between them - Until the coyote calmly turns and walks away, leaving her home without a trace. Though bewildered by her visitor, as her thoughts race to justify their soiree, her head soon sinks down to lay again, passing the night away through fitful, dreamless sleep. Morning breaks, rays of light awakening Fiil from her restless slumber. Once more she could not recall dreaming, nor even falling asleep; The coyote merely left, and then her next conscious thought was of awakening. Odd as her nights are, they are set aside: Now she must away to work, back to San'Azgak to put in her duty to her motherland. The walk to San'Azgak is uneventful, and her day is filled with meetings and corralling fanatic goblins from sacrificing guests; A mundane day in Krugmar. For hours she works her repetitious job, until a sudden flurry of motion brings a young goblin kub to her feet, injured gravely, blinded, and bleeding from beneath his cap. Like her father before her, she serves as the sole standing healer of the Goi, and so the responsibility of his care falls to her. For the rest of the day, she works tirelessly on healing the kub, with every medicine, prayer and tool at her disposal - Yet by the end, though he is stable, his body remains sleeping, wasting away. Her prayers are for naught, her potions only serve to prolong his sleeping state, and her tools fall short for all they're worth. She covers the kub in a shawl embroidered with the symbol of Kor, the Spirit of Passing, and falls exhausted to her knees beside him. She rests her head again, staring in defeat toward the bloodstained floor before: There is nothing more she can do for him, his life is as good as over. A healer though she may be, she is nothing like her father before her. The spirits listened to his prayers, gave him the power to knit flesh and purge poisons without need for medicines. No matter how hard she practices, nor how much she knows, she will always fall beneath the shadow of the orc who could cure blindness in a single incantation, or tear a curse from a person's very soul. She is destined for this sort of defeat. Once again Fiil is startled awake, having, she figures, exhausted herself so greatly that she fell asleep beside the kub. Something had brushed against her leg, and she looks down to see the coyote again, sitting beside her desk - And it's only then the bleary realization dawns on her that she is nowhere near where she previously fell unconscious. Her home is far from the city, yet the city is where she had been sitting. She shares a meaningful staredown with the creature while this dawns on her, but before she has time to struggle to recall how she came to arrive here the coyote once more turns to leave her. It pads toward the door at a leisurely pace, though this time it stops, and looks back toward her eyes again: Taunting her curiosity into following after. She rises as it vanishes into the night outside; Entreated by its stare, she cautiously moves to follow. Her head feels thick, her footfalls come unsteady, like she's wading through water neck-deep... A familiar feeling of struggling to will herself into movement similar to the odd dreams she had been plagued with in recent weeks. But now with a goal in mind - the pursuit of her visitor - she moves with purpose, propelled by the thought of finding it. Pushing aside the canvas separating her from the exterior of her hut, her eyes widen; What lies beyond is not the garden where her home dwells, but a plane entirely alien. She stands atop a stone floating freely amidst a nexus of light, hundreds like it drifting through the strange aurora alongside it. Hers is dotted with brambly desert berries and limestone boulders, scenery stolen from her home as if it would make this overwhelming place more welcoming to her. Though she recognizes the bizarre geography of the Spirit World immediately, her wonder is not abated; She has never visited without her father's guidance before. She wonders, to herself, if perhaps she was dreaming - But once more, her rationalization is halted. The image of the coyote who led her here drifts into view like a swirl of sand, and at its feet lies a small body covered in a shawl of Kor. The patterns scintillate however, shifting to bear a resemblance to Akezo's sigil, her patron; The spirit of Vitality and Healing. As she her attention fixes on the coyote's yellow eyes again, it lowers its snout and nudges the limp body before it, as if it were presenting a gift to her. She struggles to find words when faced with such a bizarre gesture, but in a tone of fearful reverence she states; "I - Don't know how to help him..." Seeing her bemusement, the coyote patiently rises to stand upon all four of its paws, then to Fiil's confusion begins to make seemingly meaningless, but deliberate motions: First it trots in circles, hopping between front and back feet, then it bounds from side to side, finally jumping onto its hind legs - Like a bizarre, canine dance, all the while it holds a wry glint in its eye, entirely aware of the entertaining diversion it makes. Fiil's tension slowly eases away despite the power she stands before, the absurdity of the dancing coyote in fact managing to raise a puzzled, but entertained, smile from her. The dance then ends, and the beast falls back onto its paws, setting them upon the body at its feet - Like Fiil's father laying hands on the wounded, causing her brows to furrow pensively. It stares up at her in expectation, panting, its goofy tongue hanging through an otherwise predatory set of fangs; A friendly, albeit dangerously sly face. Once more the coyote waits patiently as Fiil's caught in stunned confusion, counting many pants before she finally speaks up, bearing a tone of bemusement; "You... Want mi to dance...?" She asks, hesitantly. It only nudges the body with its snout again, then removes its paws. A heavy feeling surrounds her, an ominous sense of both power and danger while the coyote waits. Fiil tentatively raises her arms and begins to pad a small circle, spinning while keeping her eyes upon her odd instructor as often as possible. She moves with great caution, both due to confusion at her own actions as well as a rising aura of danger surrounding her - The feeling of handling whatever the coyote wishes to show her, she imagines. Her feet step around each other and she soon finds herself following along to an ancient rhythm thrumming through the lights swirling about the rock. Disembodied voices, chanting reverence to her patron, calling to Akezo in desperation - Burning themselves into her memory as she finds herself lost in the motions of the coyote's dance. She catches a glimpse of the patient coyote in her tribal stomping, who gives a single, patient nod down at the kub. The dance is complete. Fiil suddenly realizes that the lights from the chanting aurora had begun to swirl around her hands, and the feeling of danger has passed; Now she feels only power as she looks down at her palms. With one final motion, in step with the coyote's dance, she kneels down to lay her hands over the kub. The lights swirl away, leaving the rock in cold darkness. But through the shawl, an eerie glow hints at light beneath. Everything the coyote taught her comes to its conclusion, the wisdom it meant to impart; The shawl shifts as the body beneath it begins to rouse... Then it rises, as if sitting up - But just as it does so, Fiil finds herself jolted awake before witnessing its fruition. Fiil startles from the sounds of hornbills crying outside her office, having slept in far past dawn. Yet once more, she feels no more rested than she was last night - And once more, she fully recalls the vivid dream she had. In fact, this one fascinated her more than any of the wild, light-filled visions ever did. Most of her day is occupied contemplating what she saw, continuously finding herself attempting to theorize what she saw and how surreal it was. The kub, however, showed no indication of improvement. His breath began to come in soft pants, labored enough that multiple times Fiil nearly presumed the goblin dead. She restlessly doted over him, working in her patron's name to do all she could for him - Changing his dressing, applying ointment to the wounds that had already begun showing signs of contamination, despite how the motions caused her hope to falter... That is, until her mind began to wander again, linking fanciful thinking to desperate reality, wondering over the coyote she's seen in her dreams. She felt disrespectful even entertaining her thoughts, as if somehow she would simply be bestowed the abilities her father practiced for centuries by a cosmic coyote visiting her late at night. But... She felt, perhaps in a moment of grief bargaining, Akezo would want her to at least try, even if it was foolish, even if it disrespected the high pedestal she places her father on. She draws her curtains closed and lifts the goblin's comatose body onto her personal altar, then took a deep breath and begins to dance. Just as the coyote taught her, each step burnt into her memory remarkably well, despite the seemingly erratic pattern it took. She begins to mumble coyly to herself during her private ceremony... "Akezo taar'tala, frûm-nûlbug'an..." Akezo high above, spirit of healing... Fiil's feet step around each other, twisting together perilously to bring her in a circle while she spins. She looks down at them, unable to be sure of how accurately they fall, as they move by instinct to the rhythm of the coyote... "Hon'ghaamul-izgu, khlaar-lûp'izg..." Look down on me, hear my prayer... Her arms raise and begin to shake out as she moves, in time with an otherworldly melody recalled from her "dream"... Her chant grows bolder, rising in volume and falling in time with the beating in her head. "...Hlu-za'aaps tiir'u!" Mend this flesh back to right... The arms sway over the shawl-covered body of the kub, motions which dip and rise as she spins, patterns zealously pantomiming the motions of a suture - Then her hands cup close to each other, drawn together. "Hlu-za'hontz hon'kaal-u!" Mend these eyes to see the light... Her arms wave between each other as she stomps out the spirits' melody, graceful movements she somehow feels assured would please her patron. Otherworldly gray plumes begin to rise from around her, produced by no flame, but instead from herbs and poultices seemingly deteriorating into flakes and rising, consumed by an unseen force. Smoggy, incense-like aura that draws close to her, swirling toward her hands... Similar to the aura in her dream, but already it seems off. A subtle, ominous feeling as the reagents crumble away, the acrid scent of burning... In the moment, something shaken off; The spirits often gloss over smaller details of mortal life, after all. "Tulk-za'dâg slaium'u!" Lift this child into life... Fiil's steps bring her to stand facing the kub on the altar, the air filled with her gray aura as if her motions had perfumed the air with an unseen thurible. Her arms lift with the words of her chant, and finally her eyes open to witness the swirling smoke hovering about her hands. They widen, and her dance pauses for a moment of reverence. "A-... Akezo taar'tala, gaakh lat skaat!" Akezo high above, may it be you come... ...The coyote's dance was finished. She was bestowed a gift, just as her father was. For a moment, she was enraptured, elated, overtaken by amazement at the blessing she was given. Her hands cup together and come to rest over the goblin, laying hands just as she had seen her father do so many times. The smoke flies toward her patient, propelled like arrows into his flesh. And indeed, the kub heaves a sharp breath inward, a jarring, but relieving sound. Fiil tosses aside the shawl she had placed over the kub to find, while his wounds were not gone, all signs of infection had seemingly vanished and pale, healing flesh was now visible over his body. She lifted the young goblin into her arms, cradling him tightly as she holds back tears of joy... But soon she finds herself sinking down, knees unable to support the weight of even a small child: Despite her excitement, her soul is not nearly equipped for the vast quantities of mana calling the spirits require. But she didn't care. Akezo had saved a child's life, on her behalf. The process took weeks of repeated rituals, each one more tiring than the last. A small price to pay, she thought, for the kub's continued recovery. Small mercy was found in her sleep returning to normal; Simple dreams, memories, lucid explorations of her normal subconscious. True dreams, not audiences imparted by whatever spirit had been calling to her before - The coyote. She was left to practice in the mortal realm, long enough that the creature begins to become a memory, no longer considered a possible visitor. For five gruelling months of regular ritual treatment, Fiil repeated these steps imparted to her. Each time, the kub would rouse further, his wounds would seem less grievous and scar more - A small detail she recalls; Her father had not left scars when he laid his hands on the injured. Something she conflates to a difference in experience... Or so she had, until the kub finally awoke. When he first opens his eyes, tears nearly fall again. Fiil reaches behind him to scoop the confused boy into a hug again, but something's wrong. His eyes have healed, but they remain foggy and pale. He's awakened, but he is stiff, as if frozen in fear. His limbs work, but they begin to tremble. Eyes widening, his brows knit in frightened confusion. He begins to pant again, now in terror at the world Fiil had awoken him to, all distorted color and terrific visions - He had not been destined to recover, and for each part Fiil had healed against the will of fate, she unknowingly bestowed a price upon him. Terrible prices which pile upon each other. Prices he hadn't asked for. She is a healer, yes, but still she stands in the shadow of her father; The miracles she performed were far different. Cursed. Fiil's eyes, too, look on in horror as the innocent kub she had been nursing for months now awakens to a strange, sensation-filled, disordered world, imagining the terror of a child plunged into the chaotic vision she saw in her dreams. She raises him into her arms to cradle the poor soul, expression twisted into a regretful scowl at her own hubris. But her soul was still not prepared for such great expenses of mana. As she cradles the kub, as he adapts to his new world, she slips away; Fainting. She's on the rock again, but it bears no familiar vegetation; Now it is barren. The coyote, with its sly expression, sits before her. It stares right into her eyes for a time; It knows the price she paid. It turns to descend a floating set of stones, a staircase down into the realm of the spirits. It looks back and begins to pant, tongue wagging past its vicious fangs; The goofy expression that once put Fiil at ease now gloating. Like it had been a game to it. But nonetheless it entreats she follows, for it has many more secrets to impart. She's already accepted one, after all.

“Dear Philip, Please tell your people cooperate with the good folks who have been gathering information about this crisis since before you knew about it; Refusing to take part in the alliance that every other nation is a member of is vain, not heroic. - Fiil’Yar, kub of Thurak’Yar” Writes Fiil’Yar, recently retired diplomat, now distant observer of international affairs.

honorary orcs can’t get them, I can’t support this discrimination, sorry...

reserved

Fiil’Yar, confident in Ugrad but unwilling to abjectly speak against a fellow Yar, shrugs indifferently. “I can work with either one. Right now I support Ugrad, though. We’ll peep what the Wargoths say.”

Fiil’Yar, Dominus for Kolaz just as she had been Dominus for many Rexes prior, scrambles to write a Rex chronicle she’d been procrastinating under the assumption that Kolaz would be around a while.

Fiil’Yar riots, having been asked to donate over 70 books to the library in the past. Upon reading further, Fiil’Yar calms down a little bit, but is still upset she doesn’t have a card.

Alagard is my favorite font

”An unsurprising response from a woman who resorts to making up scripture to deride things she doesn’t like.” Fiil calmly, but derisively responds to Aurea’s annoyance, as they are established to be in conversation distance. “Ignoring actual evidence and instead repeating things she wants others to believe.”

“High Keeper Arthas explicitly put initiates through gauntlets too and Alifer was an Iblees worshipper who planned to kill the High Keeper.” Fiil’Yar continues to debate the distant Norlanders who speak up exclusively to deride active members of the faith.

Dominus Fiil’Yar finally ends her strike upon hearing of a new, competent Rex that she actually supports. She begins fervently documenting everything that has changed, returning to work. “Nub my favorite Rex, but, a better azh for sure.”

Fiil’Yar, who is both still angry at Korgahk for her son’s death and angry at Gadget for killing a man during a klomp, gazes upon the distant Krugmar with a frown of concern. She stays on vacation/strike, though. Maybe she’ll come watch. Maybe.

Fiil’Yar coyly waves her hand as she’s called a notable figure, flattered.

Dominus(?) Fiil’Yar, a long-time critic of Korgahk, remains on strike but watches Krugmar’s well-being from her rural blarg. She reads the declaration as she waters her herbs. “Wonder if it’ll be any hozh if I’m not the azh planning it.” She wonders aloud to those who know her location.

Rex Akrûkil'Lur By Fiil'Yar, Kub of Thurak'Yar --- Akrûkil'Lur was an orc of common standing. He was never Wargoth, nor leader of a warband, nor any kind of councilman: He was a grunt in the war against the Gazat, insignificant but proud, a strong fighter. He was an intelligent soldier, highly opinionated and arrogant, willing to klomp for what he thought was right - or at least speak out if he couldn't. For two Rexes he served to defend against the dwarves beating down our gate: Despite protesting the entire time, he was loyal to the defense of our nation and the community within. At every turn, he questioned the commands of those in power when he felt they were unwise, even when it cost him his tusk. It was midway through the reign of Rex Noka'Lur that Akrûkil began his rise to Rexdom: As fruitless, daily skirmishes slowly pushed our line closer to home and fatigue from the war began to set in, Akrûkil returned from the front to seek out Noka's dwindling council of supporters. Initially, he provided essays on reform, suggestions on strategy, and complaints about the path the war had been taking from the perspective of a grunt on the field. Soon, however, came the capture of Rex Noka at the hands of the Gazat, during a skirmish that pushed to the very gates of San'Azgak. The catalyzing event of Akrûkil's arrogance and dogmatism; Rex Noka surrendered the war under threat of torture, and Targoth Skalp'Raguk made an attempt on the life of the Dwarven King. The Goi was immediately flung into further war, Ugruan's will moving from recompense to total genocide of the Uruk-hai. Meanwhile, Rex Noka quietly absconded. Once more Akrûkil began to seek out Noka's Wargoths and her sole remaining council member; Her Dominus. Being a common Grunt, to challenge for Rex without the approval of the people he would rule would be both dishonorable and unwise. Riding upon the rising unrest in the goi, he argued against the war with the dwarves and the choices the Rex had made regarding it, speaking passionately against Noka in a time when support for her was at an all-time low. He promised to repair the situation Krugmar had been left in, and one by one the government of Krugmar quietly voiced their support for him. Only the Dominus remained, refusing to be disloyal to the Rex, even if she was disappointed in the course the war took. In place of the absent Rex, Akrûkil and the Dominus klomped, and debated, and klomped, round upon round until Akrûkil was victorious at a total of five victories to four losses. She submitted and soon stood with him, having been swayed by his passion, to support his rise to Rexdom. Akrûkil's rise saw unprecedented support, due to his campaigning prior to ascending; A great crowd gathered before San'Azgak to hear his announcement, with numbers to rival the Klomp of Leydluk the Unclad. Each clan, from Ox to Gorkil, raucously cheered for his declaration. In the shadow of war, he was seen as a beacon of hope and change. He promised to end the war that had seen three Rexes now, he promised an era of growth and reform. During the later days of the war, the nation had been stifled and exhausted; Few orcs remained in the streets of San'Azgak, while countless lied dead in the field. However, Akrûkil came like a breath of life to revitalize the goi: Inspired by his rise, the fires of industry were stoked again, and Krugmar prepared for a final stand, long enough to hold off until he could end the war. The goi still suffered raids from mercenaries and dwarven legionnaires, however with faith in their Rex the Uruk-hai began to push back at the attackers with renewed passion. As the home front protected kubs and znagas from dwarven invaders, Akrûkil organized a diplomatic solution to the war: In reparation for Skalp's maiming of the dwarven king, and in good faith to show Krugmar did not support him, Akrûkil offered his own arm to the gazat and offered land for an embassy to be constructed in our territory. Once more a Rex marched upon Urguan, but this one went in peace. A large assembly of brothers, concerned for their new and beloved Rex, accompanied him against political tact, creating an aura of tension when they were met at the gates of the Gazat. Two armies, who until that very day had been fervently spilling eachother's blood, met at the doorstep of the Dwarven King, who had been maimed by one of our own. Akrûkil had managed to ease the orcish line into amicable cooperation - However, just as greetings began, the goblin Schnub, in a treacherous attempt to frame Krugmar for yet another attack on the Dwarven King, dropped a flask full of virulent miasma into the middle of the meeting. Akrûkil bravely stood his ground, however, too stubborn to give into confusion; Despite great treachery and despite the heavy tension that already sat over the meeting, he managed to sew peace still. The accord came at the cost of his own arm, but Akrûkil took his maiming with good spirits, seen to be joking even as bloodloss caused him to lose consciousness. To accept such personal consequences for his people marked the honor with which he would approach his Rexdom, and despite what some would perceive as submission to a foreign power, he wore it with pride. Soon after peace was struck, he diligently set out forming a new council from the ground up, with exception to the sole remaining member, his Dominus. He began instating the reforms he proposed as a grunt, enforcing tributaries across Southern Arcas, and planning events far into the future - Starting with a great tournament to celebrate his acclaimed rule, to which warriors from as far as the zhara kingdom of Norland came to participate in. During this tournament, he declared his intention to focus Krugmar not toward war, but toward Krug's mission of combatting Iblees' taint on the world; The Scorching Uzg, he renamed the nation. Almost every orc foresaw the growth Akrûkil created persisting to finally create the golden age Krugmar had been long awaiting, but yet again the dreams of many were just barely unattainable. While Akrûkil began strong and passionate in his Rexdom, few anticipated that, like Rex Skalp, he would struggle to bear the spiritual weight of his title. As his predecessor did, Akrûkil fell to grog and degrading health correlating with his rising stress. Where once he was a good-humored, passionate orc, he became jaded and isolated. During this isolation, it had seemed as though he had abandoned the Uzg, and into the vacuum of power stepped Korgahk'Gorkil once more, pushing his way into the title of Rex while Akrûkil had appeared absent.

Fiil’Yar, the Dominus, who was present throughout the entire day this supposedly occurred on and heard no such announcement, furrows her brows in skepticism, as she would have definitely spoken up. Furthermore, Fiil’Yar makes note “For a brudda who claimed a Rex rising without a klomp when Rex Skalp gave up his crown was invalid, it is highly surprising to hear him say such things when Rex Akrûkil hasn’t made any such declaration.”

Fiil’Yar writes into Vykk co. “The goods from the craftsman Vel, namely the three masks and the snowglobe, were created by my lifemate, now deceased, and I am highly offended by your attempts to gouge the prices Vel charged in order to turn a profit. They can still easily be bought from their source location for their original price. Cease listing these goods as they are disrespectful to the dead and outrageously overpriced, please. - Fiil’Yar, lifemate of Vel”

The ancient and very predatory ghost-hating poltergeist “Old Crow” makes note of where to haunt whenever ghost lore is unshelved. It hungers for ectoplasm.

but my cactus lore :c

Llenn Songbird crawls out of the grave to have traumatic flashbacks of being a Ves cadet, a child soldier during these events. The Bloody Court was noplace for a child, putting out fires was no way to spend your youth, rebuilding your hometown is not the responsibility of the future generation... She recalls fearing the Dragon Knights, and abiding bandits that either side hired for their cause. The tale is far simpler told here, but perhaps that’s for the best, to spare those veterans who yet live. “Good play. I prefer Timothee or Timeo’s work, though that might just be because I’m a fan of theirs.”

GREAT KLOMP OF THE REX TO THE CITIZENS OF KRUGMAR AGH ITS ALLIES, In the wake of recent war, the Uruk-hai were stifled, but no more: From the ashes rises Rex Akrûkil’Lur, to lead our people into a new age. In this moment of peace post-war, the incumbent Rex has decreed a coronation and triumphal celebration finally be held for his rise to the throne. On the 20th of First Seed, 1770, a great ritual will be held in honor of KRUG to which all guests are welcomed to bring their own offerings in support of, then with his eyes upon us we will klomp for his glory. Of the world, the foremost peoples welcome to come participate in the celebration of the new Rex are as follows: Citizens of the Warnation, The ‘Ker of the Hegemony of Renalia, The Highland Folk of the Kingdom of Norland, The ‘Ker of the Onyx Sanctum, Spiritualists of any nation. After the Rex is coronated, a great KLOMP will be held in the San’Azgak arena between those gathered. The tournament will be fought bare-handed with provisions provided at the door, ensuring Krug witnesses only raw skill and not the product of equipment and preparation. All warriors are welcome to participate, and will be rewarded with a feast of grub and grog afterwards. (( The coronation and tournament will be held Friday, 5/29/2020 at 3 PM EST. )) - Dominus Fiil’Yar, kub ob Thurak’Yar

Name of your plant/reagent: Dafrisl Appearance: A small ball cactus no larger than a cantaloupe which naturally grows in large, bundled up clusters. Location: Arid deserts and canyons where drought is common, requiring almost no moisture to thrive. Raw effect(s) of the plant/reagent: When the flesh of its main stem is ground down and then dried, a single Dafrisl produces a small quantity of a psychoactive substance popularly known as “Cactus Green,” commonly used recreationally, religiously and to a lesser extent medicinally. When processed this way and ingested or burnt, Dafrisl produces a calming narcotic effect, inducing euphoria, relaxation, laziness, and impaired movement. Medicinally, Dafrisl’s high can be used to help mitigate the effects of nausea and pain to a minor degree. Harvesting: The entire above-ground body of a single cactus must be plucked in order to harvest the equivalent of a measure of its symbols and raw effects, requiring thick gloves or skin to mitigate the inconvenience of the spines covering the plant. Dafrisl can be cultivated when planted in dry soil, but requires both protection from humidity and abundant sunlight in order to thrive. Dafrisl is commonly selectively farmed to produce cultivar that accentuate different aspects of the herb’s narcotic effects and the potency thereof. Conversely, under poor conditions, the herb’s raw effects are diminished. Red Lines: -All Reagents must be gathered through RP and represented by ST approved items. -When processed for its Symbols, this Reagent will lose all of its raw effects and harvesting capabilities. -Farmed Dafrisl requires a 1x1 space within direct view of sunlight containing sand, as well as a desert or temperate greenhouse environment at minimum to be grown in, and will regrow at the rate of 1 count per 3 OOC days. -Cultivar of Dafrisl will always have the same Signs and Symbols, no exceptions. {field_name_279} {field_value_279} Alchemical Sign(s) (put N/A if none): Earth {field_name_281} {field_value_281} edit: the forums broke the submission, but its symbols were as follows: Peace x2 Curtailment x1 Slowness x1

Rex Noka'Lur the Huntress By Fiil'Yar, Kub of Thurak'Yar --- From the retirement of Rex Skalp'Raguk the Uniter rose Rex Noka'Lur the Huntress; A half-orc already known as a competent leader from her many years spent as either the Chieftess or Wargoth of the Lur clan as well as a Kiredh in Mau'Madur. For a time, she was able to maintain unprecedented growth for the nation. We grew closer to our allies in the 'Ker and our plains saw increased development. The Orcish population grew so exponentially some expected a new Orcish golden age was on the horizon - However, the growth would not last. Soon, the gazat came, in response to a conflict started during Skalp's reign as Rex. Rex Noka met with their king, who demanded a sum of twenty-thousand minas in reparation as well as Korgahk'Gorkil to be rendered onto him for punishment. Noka refused to surrender a brudda to be slain for a conflict that occured far from dwarven soil, and from this refusal, a war began. But unlike the Suticans, the dwarves were not mages and twigs; They hold among them formidable, honorable warriors. The nation ceased its growth; We fortified in expectation of battle to come. And it did. The goi began to see regular assault by dwarves and bandits rallied under their banner, but on the heels of this conflict came the Azog clan, returning under Rex Noka's rally to war. With them, several foreign clans came as well, and together the Azogs and these strangers created a new clan of fierce warriors; The Zoks. In this time of war, Noka saw the value in providing concessions to a clan of strong fighters and strategists, and so despite the suspicion of her council, provided them with land, a fortress, equipment and control over the nation's military. However it wasn't long before the Zoks began to extend their privileges: They began raiding neighbors to our nation - Ones that meant no harm to the Uruk-hai, ones that under Rex Skalp had even considered friends of our people. A storm of diplomatic upsets began to arise from every southern nation the Zoks had visited. Having learned from the mistakes of Targoth Leydluk which led to our nation's ruin not two Rexes ago, Rex Noka appointed myself as Dominus to control the situation from outside, diplomatically, while she wrestled with the situation from within. Rex Noka's solution was to order all raiders home, to cease attacking any force except the gazat that came onto our lands. Several months this order stood, and with many warriors being stuck home and unable to sate their bloodlust on the field, unrest began to rise. This unrest was compounded by Noka's plans and actions being kept mostly to her council, and sometimes secret even to them. Seeing an opportunity to garner support from the frustrated community and already in control of much of Krugmar's military force, the chieftain of the Zoks, Orgoth'Zok, staged an attempt to klomp for Rex without any support from the Wargoth council nor rising to the necessary position to warrant a right to do so without it in accordance with the Codes of Krug. In response, spurred on by her Dominus, rather than begin a clan war each member of Noka's council began challenging Orgoth one by one, until the Zok had beaten every loyal Wargoth standing in his way. When he was finally allowed to face Noka, despite his treachery and intimidating streak of victories, she accepted the klomp for Rex. The Zok chieftain was defeated, and in his failure to take Rex, Orgoth took his men away from the nation. Noka's victory was bittersweet, as while she was able to defeat her challenger, in doing so she lost a significant number of soldiers for the war. Due to this loss of force, the war against the dwarves rapidly began to turn in their favor: Many loyal warriors remained under Rex Noka's banner, but not nearly enough and many not nearly as skilled. The Goi was regularly subjected to defensive raids and the battlefield was largely dominated by Gazat legions. During this time of conflict, Noka was several times among those defending the goi from dwarven invaders. During one of these attacks, our defenses failed - Rumored to be due to a traitor working with the besiegers - And the Gazat soldiers were able to capture her. Raids were mounted in an effort to retake the Rex, however all failed: Few know in detail what exactly occured within the dwarven halls, however when Rex Noka emerged, she had surrendered. The war was over, in defeat. This defeat kindled further unrest in the Uruk-hai. Much of Noka's council resigned, offended, and those who remained either quietly resented the defeat or believed that she had made a necessary decision for the good of our nation. Through the people once more a usurper dug its roots; Akrûkil'Lur. A representative of the common grunt this time, who slowly gained recognition from the disgruntled members of her council as a legitimate challenger. When the day came for Skalp'Raguk the Uniter to be handed over to the Gazat, the ex-Targoth denounced his ties to Rex Noka and the Warnation and struck out on his own to violently attack the king of the dwarves. The conflict was immediately rekindled and Rex Noka, detecting the shifting political climate of Krugmar, elected to quietly resign to make room for another Rex to try their hand at managing the unstable situation.

“Can’t get heads even by lying to halflings, has to hire outside help instead it seems.” Fiil’Yar comments upon hearing of her bruddas being subsidized.