Conqueror

__ Ash-Skies scattered by might each passing morn, clouds never still from wing-flight. What destined be the Dwarven place of meeting, here’s the Prince's army, They may join the meeting. Beware. __

__ THE SKIES of Alemdrom frequently shutter and boom, the vapor of clouds never having time to coalesce... Except for the great plume of Smoke that rises from the Mont when the Consult meets, and when it is their Hour. A single streak of Fire encircles the volcanic peninsula on the morn of each day, The air hissing above as it is cut, and there is rolling thunder as that Fire surpasses sound. An agent of the Third guards, as is his purpose. __

all of lotc btw

⸸.-─────────.-──–──-.─────────-.⸸ H O P E O F A D R A G O N .-──–──-. ༺ ۝ ༻ “...They forget their past and ancestry, they forget the days when Man and Nephilim fought side by side with the banner of the great Titan flapping over their heads. They forget the Draconic Heraldry that their forebears took for sigils of their houses and instead deem it fitting to name the blessed children of the King as darkspawn.” -A Treatise on the Draconic, 7.- “ So Dragons have many hopes. One, is the Horenic Pact. Humanity had since lost trust in Nephilim-kind, following the old corruption of their Godfather, Azdromoth. The Dragaar had fallen to Iblees centuries ago… denoting him not as a loyal servant, no, but as one of many victims. Since the consumption of Xan, a death which had given the greatest gift of all: purification… A harmony between the reds of the king, and golds of the lion, forming amber, named appropriately ‘Apotheosis’, by his blessed children- those of Horen may again trust the newly ascended God Azdromoth. Again could those men march under a unified banner, again could the brotherhood be born. But those of Alemdrom, the great Kingdom within the Firelands, must lay in wait. Those embers shall remain just the Hope of a Dragon, unless something is done to show man proof of the redeemed purpose of the Nephilim. ” ●⊱──────-..-──────⊰● Writing ToddTheConqueror, Moumins Formating: Moumins Referenced author: Karim

AR'KAAN beheld the statues' likeness. He beheld it from the heavens, and on that day the Warlocks could see a faint streak of light far above clouds. An eye is on them. It was not Ar'Kaan's.

lhindir! In the brief time I have known you (on lotc) I have always loved the interactions. From a narrative perspective, you taught me to stay traditional Fair thee well...

My Carbarum sword and armor set is gone can I get them replaced please?

Everything was dim in The Pontifical States, stewards having already tended to the torches of their houses—servants within noble manors drawing out the oil from their lanterns an hour after nightfall. Most were asleep, at this point. But they could extinguish all the flames they wanted, there would still be one, very angry flame, alight, almost every night. This was its hour. It came from far away, fueled by the Holy Regencies own crimes. Crimes that had never gotten penance, because of course, the Canondom, above it all, owned that concept. So it wished to bring them their penance if they would not themselves. And in these nights it did. Many, many times. Peace returned to the flame, and Burgundy's inquisitions ceased. All was well, for a while. But the flame returned, this time, fueled by something else. Something greater. Something older. It traveled again and again to The Empire of Man, seeking what was above itself. Above that old fuel. How could it? How could all of this be forgotten, for this new purpose? There was a way, but only the flame knew. So it did not matter. AR'KAAN traveled South to The River Leone.

+1

ba ba bee brpphphphpph tyes

KAAZVALIKAR, the once-Kha, split the clouds above The Vale after finishing his second meeting with the Kharajyr Aelkos, returning to Redmont. Though, he didn't think about the meeting, nor did he think about his old moon-worshipping Brethren, or their mortality, this time. He did not think about how The Burning Assembly sought to defend all of Descendentkind from the threat of the High Hells, The Synod, The Black Church, or anything like that, although that was most of his motivation... All he thought of, this time, was that: Maybe now his distant siblings, atop their desert-mount, would see him as redeemable!

"What is this? Arcas?" Mused a certain voice to the imprudent contents within the missive. "Canonists let a single Kharajyr among the crowd represent them all. If we did that with their Priests, they'd all be sadists."

KAAZVALIKAR scanned the report, scrutinizing its false contents, rolling his eyes as Haense decided to glorify a tale of discrimination he's heard hundreds of times: his Brothers murdered by those they swore to protect. "How scared do you have to be? To murder out of fear? The product of a little and narrow mind... GOD had no hand in this." He placed the missive down, and went to that Red City.