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  1. A scouting mission, she had been told. To gather samples, analyze them. It was anything but. As the Lord Dame of Brinewell, Ruina R'ikarth-Iron'Heartz-Anarore-Sweist, followed after close friends and strangers into the voidal hollow, she did not know that she would never return. No opportunity to fight and no chance to flee, she and one of her oldest lliran succumbed to the horrors that awaited those few who ventured into the cursed place. She had led a rather exciting life in her later years after so much struggle in her youth. Upon her arrival in Almaris she found herself in the middle of a war between men and dwed. She initially settled in the old Nor'asath, then moving to Elysium for only a month, and finally to Lubba's Keep for a few years. She met someone. Had children. Never married. Decided the war was not for her. Fleeing to the north, she found a home in Fenn, a place to belong, even if it was among the whitest elves she'd ever seen. She lived through the joining of Fenn and Nor'asath, became the undercity's grand steward, and was ultimately banished from both places by a woman she'd once considered her friend, but who she had grown to hate. But hate was the furthest thing from her mind as she met her end. No, she had no thoughts at all of those who had wronged her - she could have cared less about them. The end was nothingness. She took her friend's hands as the void took them both, mutated them into the very creatures who had brought about their demise. She cried, her thoughts only of her daughter. She had no time to think of all those she had met in life. A child was tucked away in her room, several letters beneath it. [!] It had the year '72' written on it. "If you are reading this, you've either broken into my home (in which case I will be personally removing your shins), or, I am dead. Or just... Gone. Whoever finds this, send the rest of these letters to whoever I've named in this doom note. With that out of the way, let me begin. To those who could call themselves my llir, I thank you for being a part of my life. To Primrose, thanks for the wig. To Mika, thanks for the kids and so many experiences and adventures when I first arrived in Almaris. To Jon Snowell, thanks for the sword. To Elathion, I leave you a bowl of crackadonk chili. Come to Brinewell and it will be delivered to you. To those I've killed, a personal screw you, and I wish I could do it again. To the weefolk, I leave to you my cheese collection, which has been aging for quite a while. As well as some booze. To Valindra, you are one of the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of meeting in my life. I trust you will be able to finish the work we started. To Jorg Iron'Heartz, I miss you so much old friend... To Durin, swing by for a free drink sometime. To Zirath, you may visit Brinewell whenever you'd like for free food and drink. To Ruilia... I miss you. I... Love you. I wish we would have married. To Scrisa, my daughter, there is an inheritance of sorts waiting for you should you be able to find it. I trust that with your smarts you will be able to do so rather quickly. You will take over my position on Brinewell when you reach the age of 50, if you'd like. Oh, and take care of your new sister. She'll need someone to take care of her in my absence, and I don't even have the name of the father who gave her to me. Until then, Esmee, I leave you with the island to do with as you see fit." OOC: It's been fun, Ruina was an absolute menace to society and I had a blast playing her. Her death was a bit... awful, I suppose, but we knew the risks going into the PK site. Just didn't know it was essentially a death sentence. If I've missed anyone and you feel you deserve something from my item collection, HMU on Discord. (I blame xMuted for this PK)
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