Hands over some newly crafted Thermo-Accelerated Plague Spreader bombs to Zivira so can get some much needed vengeance for the burning tree.
Slap this knave for heresy and advocating for crimes against the Light, in the form of the vile Plague!
12/09/2018 07:34Posted by DeolarasSlap this knave for heresy and advocating for crimes against the Light, in the form of the vile Plague!
Sic's his pet on the paladin for making judgements before finding out all facts just like any other typical light user and then explains while he's nursing the claw marks...
"Plague" as in name only dear fellow.. its merely poison. Something right up Zivira's alley
Call him a zealot and fanatic once he speaks of the so-called "heresy" and finish it off by saying,
"As far as I know, it's the King's Law the Alliance members got to follow, not some Light ruleset you paladin lot made up."
"As far as I know, it's the King's Law the Alliance members got to follow, not some Light ruleset you paladin lot made up."
Haul out a large book inscribed with the words "Esarus thar no'Darador"
He slowly opens it.
"And the Plague is a war crime, which should in all factuality, be punished with exile or hanging. As for your, reaction of zealot; The King is a priest; the church and state are intertwined.
I'm not going to cut you down, nor even frown at you for what you are; but will I discipline someone for acting the fool and making light of atrocities?
Yes.
Call me a zealot all you wish, but that is because you have never seen actual zealots, actual zealots like I have. I am damn fed up with you youthes and your whining; yet I attest.
I fought the Second War, for your right to moan. Moan on."
He slowly opens it.
"And the Plague is a war crime, which should in all factuality, be punished with exile or hanging. As for your, reaction of zealot; The King is a priest; the church and state are intertwined.
I'm not going to cut you down, nor even frown at you for what you are; but will I discipline someone for acting the fool and making light of atrocities?
Yes.
Call me a zealot all you wish, but that is because you have never seen actual zealots, actual zealots like I have. I am damn fed up with you youthes and your whining; yet I attest.
I fought the Second War, for your right to moan. Moan on."
Curiously glancing at Deolaras big book.
"Ohhhh, what's in that book? can I have a look?"
*with a more serious tone*
"I really, really wish we paladins were smart and unified enough to re-build a true order of the light. Such that will hold high over faction idiocy, and even dethrone trigger-happy warmongers that embrace bloodshed and darkness, be them alliance or horde. We were soooo close just not so long ago, but sadly it doesn't seem to happen! not with so many of our brethren that are now killing each other instead of standing together as we should!"
*shrugs*
"well... as long as there are peaches, there's hope. But still- It kinda makes you sad".
"Ohhhh, what's in that book? can I have a look?"
*with a more serious tone*
"I really, really wish we paladins were smart and unified enough to re-build a true order of the light. Such that will hold high over faction idiocy, and even dethrone trigger-happy warmongers that embrace bloodshed and darkness, be them alliance or horde. We were soooo close just not so long ago, but sadly it doesn't seem to happen! not with so many of our brethren that are now killing each other instead of standing together as we should!"
*shrugs*
"well... as long as there are peaches, there's hope. But still- It kinda makes you sad".
At the elf's mention of 'peaches' politely approach her and inquire if she knows of a good vendor to get some quality ones!
Sure I do! I really, really know nearly every possible way to get nice, fresh and sweet peaches from Silvermoon to Stormwind! though nothing, nothing can compare to those huge, dreamy Pandaren peaches...
By the light! It's been nearly six months till the last time I managed to grab one!
By the light! It's been nearly six months till the last time I managed to grab one!
Tell him, nobody wants to touch his peach or whatever he might offer.
"I don't think anybody wants your "peach" especially since its rotted, and who knows what disease might lie in that thing."
"I don't think anybody wants your "peach" especially since its rotted, and who knows what disease might lie in that thing."
Almost walk into, then jump at the ghastly sight and almost spill his flagon everywhere! After a moment assuring all was well, he loudly sharing the thought of smelling something foul and rotten.
As he walks by suggest the undead creeps around being a creep elsewhere... like in the crater of Blackrock Mountain?
====
((Fast like the wind, Erahe!!))
Grumble to move his "moudly green thighs" and being constantly in the way!
As he walks by suggest the undead creeps around being a creep elsewhere... like in the crater of Blackrock Mountain?
====
((Fast like the wind, Erahe!!))
Grumble to move his "moudly green thighs" and being constantly in the way!
Say that she only moves her thighs for someone for two reasons. Say nothing more and leave it to the dwarf to figure it out.
*stares at the Orc for a long while before shuddering*
Damn me imagination...
Damn me imagination...
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Shudder aswell before leaning towards the Dwarf and speaking to him in a low voice
"Look. Alliance, Horde. Doesn't matter. Atleast we can agree that whatever that orc is implying probably isn't good..." Thuldrell cringes at what his dirty mind is thinking of.
"Look. Alliance, Horde. Doesn't matter. Atleast we can agree that whatever that orc is implying probably isn't good..." Thuldrell cringes at what his dirty mind is thinking of.
"What was she actually implying? I didn't quite get that."
''Likely a dark horror of such kind that the world has never seen, fellow Ren'dorei. Something to give even a Forgotten One, pause for horror.'' Feydrea shudders violently, hands quietly trying to drag Láurenn away from it.
Richild Runeholm draws her sword at the mention of some dark horror creeping nearby. Then, she advance with a carful strep towards the two void elves, her dark-green eyes narrowed.
"Now, now. even the darkest, nameless creature dies, when slashed and stabbed deep enough" she says in her harsh Stormic accent, spoken in a cold tone.
"As part the newest... addition to our grand alliance, surely you two can do better then shuddering, right? let the darklings and horde filth shudder from us, instead! now, where is your crawling dark one? I could use a good fight!"
"Now, now. even the darkest, nameless creature dies, when slashed and stabbed deep enough" she says in her harsh Stormic accent, spoken in a cold tone.
"As part the newest... addition to our grand alliance, surely you two can do better then shuddering, right? let the darklings and horde filth shudder from us, instead! now, where is your crawling dark one? I could use a good fight!"
Rorick regards the whole situation with an amused smile on his face, his hand casually on the grip of his crossbow.
"Now, now. The orc made a vulgar suggestion. At least I think it was a vulgar one. No need to get all worked up. Come on, lady. Put the sword away before you incite a riot and get yourself and others injured."
"Now, now. The orc made a vulgar suggestion. At least I think it was a vulgar one. No need to get all worked up. Come on, lady. Put the sword away before you incite a riot and get yourself and others injured."
Tie up and tickle to death.
Then rise the corpse and do the same.,Tie up and tickle to death.
Then rise the corpse and do the same.
Then rise the corpse and do the same.,Tie up and tickle to death.
Then rise the corpse and do the same.
@ Rorick
Claraux casually saunters up towards Rorick, although upon closer inspection of her stride, one would notice her bare feet appear to avoid actually making any contact at all with the ground, the Nightbourne levitating just the slightest amount. An Imp sits upon her right shoulder, fiddling around with her hair at the back of her head as he attempts to plait it, while she has a bemused look upon her face. "Do humans really consider the acts of consummation and cunnílingus to be vulgar by default? Granted, I must confess, the notion of Orcs engaging in such entrepreneurial activities can be rather disconcerting, and I would much rather convince myself of an outlandish notion, such as they produce offspring through the spreading of spores, however ..."
The Shal'dorei suddenly notices Richild nearby, looking quite agitated. "Oh dear, this woman looks particularly distressed ..."
She then turns her attention back to Rorick. "... say, you appear to be ruggedly handsome in that rustic human male kind of way, perhaps you could convince her to relax through tactical employment of these so called vulgar traits, hm?"
After a little titter from Claraux, she suddenly emits a startled yelp, her right arm reacting instinctively to swing a clenched fist back at her shoulder, smashing the Imp in its face, sending it flying from her body. As it crashes to the ground, the Shal'dorei simply snarls, muttering slightly towards Rorick as she attempts to fix her tiara. "... it's the only way he'll learn not to pull. Spare the rod, spoil the child ..."
She then looks back over her shoulder, speaking in a louder tone. "... isn't that so, Rupnik?!", only for the Imp to respond by lifting its head slightly with a groggy sounding "Yes ... Mistress … ugh ...", before fainting completely, resulting in the Nightbourne turning back to face the human once again with a more smug look upon her face yet again. "So, where were we? Ah yes, you and the frumpy looking one over there! Do you require aid in wooing her, human?"
@ Orcgentleman
The Nightbourne suddenly notices the Orcish Death Knight in close proximity. Quickly covering herself in a small arcane bubble, she then comments with a disingenuous look of sympathy upon her visage. "Pardon Orc, but the aura of death and decay which seeps from the fibre of you and your Ebon Blade kin is simply murder on my delicate skin. I'm sure you understand and take no offence."
Claraux casually saunters up towards Rorick, although upon closer inspection of her stride, one would notice her bare feet appear to avoid actually making any contact at all with the ground, the Nightbourne levitating just the slightest amount. An Imp sits upon her right shoulder, fiddling around with her hair at the back of her head as he attempts to plait it, while she has a bemused look upon her face. "Do humans really consider the acts of consummation and cunnílingus to be vulgar by default? Granted, I must confess, the notion of Orcs engaging in such entrepreneurial activities can be rather disconcerting, and I would much rather convince myself of an outlandish notion, such as they produce offspring through the spreading of spores, however ..."
The Shal'dorei suddenly notices Richild nearby, looking quite agitated. "Oh dear, this woman looks particularly distressed ..."
She then turns her attention back to Rorick. "... say, you appear to be ruggedly handsome in that rustic human male kind of way, perhaps you could convince her to relax through tactical employment of these so called vulgar traits, hm?"
After a little titter from Claraux, she suddenly emits a startled yelp, her right arm reacting instinctively to swing a clenched fist back at her shoulder, smashing the Imp in its face, sending it flying from her body. As it crashes to the ground, the Shal'dorei simply snarls, muttering slightly towards Rorick as she attempts to fix her tiara. "... it's the only way he'll learn not to pull. Spare the rod, spoil the child ..."
She then looks back over her shoulder, speaking in a louder tone. "... isn't that so, Rupnik?!", only for the Imp to respond by lifting its head slightly with a groggy sounding "Yes ... Mistress … ugh ...", before fainting completely, resulting in the Nightbourne turning back to face the human once again with a more smug look upon her face yet again. "So, where were we? Ah yes, you and the frumpy looking one over there! Do you require aid in wooing her, human?"
@ Orcgentleman
The Nightbourne suddenly notices the Orcish Death Knight in close proximity. Quickly covering herself in a small arcane bubble, she then comments with a disingenuous look of sympathy upon her visage. "Pardon Orc, but the aura of death and decay which seeps from the fibre of you and your Ebon Blade kin is simply murder on my delicate skin. I'm sure you understand and take no offence."
Shrug at her, looking at her bubble.
"Bubbles will not help you. I think I shall just leave before you start freezing..."
Slowly leave the elf and wander off as usual.
"Bubbles will not help you. I think I shall just leave before you start freezing..."
Slowly leave the elf and wander off as usual.