Morigung-oog

Valindra prayed for the soul of Alexandr.

Valindra, having been shooting for a rank in the church, let out a groan. Having been working with the Lady of the Abstract, she prayed that her dear friend would survive the oncoming fights, for their goals transcended politics.

Do I get free bickando meme art if I vote yes?

Valindra gasped with delight and readied her popcorn.

Magister Valindra Nullivari of the district of Paradox lofts a brow, though nods singularly, respecting the customs of the city she'd come to oversee. Sat comfortably within the luxury of her estate, she called to a servant to retrieve her a roll of parchment. Retrieving a dark-feathered quill, the mali began to neatly jot down a response: --- "Challenger Lanre Cerusil, I respect your drive and ambition; it is something our collective desperately needs while its inhabitants grow complacent. Change is natural, and we should always embrace such. Before you continue, however, I ask that you please name the Magister who you intend to challenge. Our current Lord and Lady Magisters are as follows: Vapatia of Eternity Kalgrimmor of the Sorcerous Path Valindra of Paradox. I look forward to seeing the events that follow from this open letter, wayward Magus. I have heard of your skill in the arcanic arts and your respect for balance. Regardless of the outcome, you will always be welcome in Paradox. With Regards, Lady Magister Valindra Nullivari of Paradox, Court Mage of Stassion, The Pale Elf of Disaster, Smiter of Heretics etc." --- Signing off on her letter with a flourish, the mali had such posted beneath Lanre's open letter.

Valindra smirked as the romantic advice she'd granted Peter paid off!

Based and Nozpilled.

Magister Valindra Nullivari, the joint First Watcher readied herself to answer the summons. However, in a moment of insight, she reached for some parchment to begin penning a letter to the Weiss.

Valindra Nullivari read over this note with a faint roll of her eyes. "Couldn't even protect her ex wife? Pathetic." Sneered the bitter scion, turning to make towards her throne in the State of Hohkmat.

An honorary member of the brotherhood signed her name at the very bottom. Valindra, the Fleshy

"I am not convinced." An 'aheral mused from the comfort of her keep room in Stassion.

Valindra let out an ungodly screech from the comfort of her home, shaking her first angrily in the direction of the Gazette dropbox. "I am not lonely, and the next person to imply that I need a lover's embrace to feel complete is going to be embraced by my boot stomping through their jaw."

A certain cosplaying fleeper with a love for pulping her foes with blunt arms checked her great mace of smashing. "The druids have gone too far this time!"

Valindra browsed the various references to past events, and counted the number of times she had witnessed these in person.

Why are you still here? Ungoth bunga oog ung? Help me.

"Too easy." A bored 'thill mused, cleansing her spear of the druidic blood that stained it. "We've been too kind to them. Still they fight for a goal they'll ultimately never reach, for a hopeless cause. Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya."

God bless.

Wish I could help provide an NPC but all Valindra did was laugh at Fenn when it was attacked- really cool concept though

Valindra let out a maniacal cackle. The gazette never failed to disappoint!

"Its not even a war. They just take their prisoners for a little chinwag down in the barracks and let them ago. Pft!" Valindra scoffed, shaking her head in nothing short of disgust. It seemed as though her approval for the state she'd given so much to rejoin was dwindling all too quickly. Sneering at the display, she turned to sharpen her own sword. "Not to mention the filth they're currently letting fester in their own walls. I hate the vale as much as the next mali, but where is the killing, the maiming and the cries of widowed wives and orphaned children?!"

A formerly Orenian Ferryman supporter quickly curses out emperor Peter III.

The letter is promptly returned, with Lady scratched out and replaced with ‘Just ******* Valindra’.

A certain court mage with no maternal instinct whatsoever spared a blank passing glance at the two newborns. She promptly paused, brows furrowing in utter befuddlement. “… They cry an awful lot? Are they supposed to do that?” She’d mutter, scurrying off with a faint click of her tongue. “I almost pity them, having to share a birthday with one of the greatest tragedies to befall mankind, up there with the time the Renatus bakery had run out of honey buns…” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve still not yet recovered… it was a … trying time.”