Keefy

A studious being receives the missive, and pulls his notes, realizing a similarity. Rather than placing it within his home, he exits the Grove and seeks an abandoned home in the wilderness. There, he writes the symbol on a doorway, lights the hearth. And waits.

Hareven just takes weapon stock like a reasonable person on the precipice of war. One of Peon imps listens in on the weird cave and leaves with more confidence than it previously held.

The underbrush and forests surrounding Aegrethond and Siramenor would begin to grow eerily quiet in the months after the announcement. Odd noises would often be heard at night. And in the distance, The Peon would prepare.

Me being a jackass aside, this is p solid.

No. He came into the event radius. The moment you do that, you've chosen to accept the consequences of being in a land corrupted and controlled by the demons. He attempted to use the hammer and it didn't work. And he lost it in the resulting event as ran by Joel and overseen by Riftblade. Multiple ST were there. If you don't want to participate, leave the area when the message pops up in your chat.

One. We can't pk you without admin greenlight unless you agree to it. We can remove you from the eventline if you prove problematic but Joel being an idiot isn't a assured pk. Two. If the only thing that makes you feel safe bringing your items into events is a soulbind, don't bring it. When it comes to player vs player aight. Big lore event? It's not going to keep your shinies safe, especially a heavily lored item. Three. This ain't map end event bruv. Four. If someone deletes this I'm posting crappy deviantart drawings of My Immortal fanfic into staff discord. Five. Good luck. Have a nice one.

Hareven coughs from somewhere in the camp.

Distant clapping from a particular forge by a particular strange man working for Anethra as he hears her speech.

Despite the blockade, every so often the familiar outline of a man would be present on the coastlines, traveling and studying as he saw fit, and watching the developments without nary a care. A glance away for a moment and he’d be gone, sometimes leaving small sketches to be found where spotted, as harmless as can be. All signed, naming himself as The Wyrd.

“T’ank **** m’ contracts are safe...wait paperwork? Fer a dragon?” Hareven mutters before bowling over laughing over the mental image

A less tolerant man watches the beavers before considering some actions. Some golem with a hammer actions.