D3F4LT

Nagorain Emberhorn would gently put aside the missive as he looked over his farm, he smiled softly"mae Emperor Hadrian rule in peace n' stabiliteh as 'is father would wish, war will bring noffin but taste of ash if we end up consumed be it"

Nice map now i want to see it turned in a colorbook of nations carving their lands

How much do you love onions? Anyways glad to hear you enjoyed the server so far, hope to see you around in roleplay aswell!

❖ PREAMBLE — THE FALL OF HEFRUMM ❖ When Dravlon Blackroot rose to the seat of High Chief, many hoped he would guide Hefrumm through difficult times. Instead, his rule forged an irreparable schism between the Forest Dwarven village of Hefrumm and the Capital of Urguan. Behind the Grand King’s back, Dravlon held unauthorized diplomatic meetings with foreign nations, actions taken in the name of Hefrumm, but never sanctioned by Urguan nor by the dwarven people. His decisions strained trust, undermined unity, and forced the Grand King to act. When the King’s emissaries moved to confront and depose him, they found no leader to face, only an empty village, abandoned without warning. So where had the High Chief gone? To build a new home for the Forest Kin? To protect the scattered dwarves who depended on him? No. Dravlon vanished, taking with him the relics of Hefrumm, leaving its people leaderless, divided, and without a future. He made no attempt to rebuild, restore, or defend the legacy he had sworn to uphold. A High Chief in title — but never in deed. And yet, from this failure rises new opportunity. Where Dravlon abandoned the Forest Kin, Urguan now extends its hand. The Grand Kingdom offers a clean slate, a chance for the Forest Dwarves to return, reunite, and rebuild a community worthy of Bjor Cottonwood and Gloin Treebeard legacy. A chance to begin again, rooted not in the betrayal of one dwarf, but in the strength of all Forest Kin. ❖ THE DIASPORA OF THE FOREST KIN ❖ With the fall of Hefrumm and the final exodus from their home, the Forest Kin scattered across the sea to the new realm of Azuras. Some found refuge in Urguan’s halls. Others wandered into the wilds. Some clans endure, others lie dormant or forgotten, and many Forest Dwarves believe themselves the last of their blood. But we will never know our number, our future. Unless we gather the scattered roots of our people once more. ❖ A CALL TO COUNT OUR KIN ❖ I, Nagorain Hodfairsson of Clan Emberhorn, call upon every Forest Dwarf, young or old, within a clan or clanless, to answer a single question that may shape the future of our folk: “DO YOU BELIEVE THE FOREST KIN DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE TO FORM A NEW SETTLEMENT?” This is not a declaration, not a rally, and not a demand. It is a census and a headcount. If the Forest Kin still live, if they still Care then perhaps a new hearth may rise again. If silence answers, the time has not yet come. ❖ HOW TO RESPOND ❖ If you are Forest Dwarven by blood, upbringing, or clan, send a letter to: Nagorain Emberhorn - Ekra Ranch Clan Lord of Clan Emberhorn, decendant of Elder clan Treebeard, brother of Ordvair 6th High chief of Hefrumm. (MC: D3F4LT) Please include: Your Name Your Clan (if any) And your answer to the question: “Do the Forest Kin deserve a second chance to form a new settlement?” Your responses will be recorded so that the Forest Kin themselves, not foreign crowns, not abandoned chiefs, decide the fate of our people.

Nagorain Emberhorn tosses the missive aside, a true patriot of Urguan would be preparing to slaughter undead and darkspawn not bicker about the Brathmordakin. "instead of wroitin tis 'e couldve simpleh g'on to Grelu Silverbraid to discuss religion"he'd say to himself as he put more firewood into his hearth to keep his ranch warm.

"The Reinmaren fear dwarven brewers"Nagorain would say with a chuckle.

Nagorain Emberhorn would read the letter before the forest kin beardlings as he then burned the missive "me beardlins, tonoight... we MINE!"

"How will blind people read this missive?"tharkun wonders to himself.

"Do nothing, win Do something, win" – Grand King Ulfar

Nagorain would reinforce his ranch after receiving the missive, he'd heat up the forge and began to smith.

Tharkun smiles the sun smile.

Tharkun Ulfarsson Starbreaker would inform the Grand King, his father regarding this incident.

Cant wait to make roads unsafe for highwaymen

Archaic Irongut is looking at a new job at Boulder Burgers as he lost his ancestral life savings, he will never recover from this!

Can we skip naming realms with letter a and go with B instead. We call it Bazurass

Archaic Smiles the Sun smile upon the removal of the heretical fake mountain!

THE LAST BATTLE Before the battle was joined, the elder dwarf's mind wandered back through the centuries. Thumbrindal Grandaxe - Thumril Metalfist recalled the days of the Confederation of Hammers, when he fought shoulder to shoulder with his brothers-in-arms. He remembered the clash beside his own brother, Gimli Metalfist, and the guiding presence of their adopted father, Norkai II. The old warrior's eyes were heavy with the weight of memory, but when his King's voice rose to speak before the host, Thumbrindal snapped back to the present. As the dwarves and their allies lifted their voices in defiance, the elder's roar carried with them— "ARRRRRUUUUUUUU!" With that, he joined kin and companions as the united host of the descendants marched in three columns through the freezing snow to meet the host of Orsathiael. The Dreamers of Orsathiael The cold bit deep, yet the spirit of the Grandaxes and their kin did not falter. They marched on, determined to see the battle through to its bitter end. At last they came upon a vast pillar, and there the foe awaited them. The enemy came in countless forms, great and small, hurling themselves against the descendants in waves. Forces clashed until it shattered; clean blades were worn to bits. The field became a place of bare hands and battered shields. Thumbrindal Grandaxe fought until his sword broke, and when left with nothing, he turned to his fists— his right gauntlet torn and bloody, his strikes fueled by the unyielding fury of Bogrin. But fury could not halt fate. Amid the chaos he was struck, a cruel blade piercing into his side. Even so, he fought until the final Dreamer fell and the battle's roar subsided. On 13th of the Grand Harvest of 249 SA Thumbrindal perished in battle. He closed his eyes, surrounded by his people, his heart assured that the nation he loved would endure. Letter for Belegar Grandaxe.