Hello my dear readers! The Helheim Herald is recently undergoing some staff changes, and we are very eager to be able to give our citizens everything ranging from vital changes in our Kingdoms political sphere, regal tales of our fellows accomplishments- and all the juicy gossip you can imagine from the three main factions of Sincadere! But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have a lot of new and exciting things to share with you!
It would be rude to start without letting you know ‘who’ it is that is acting as a story-teller as you read along! I am Cerulean, a Priest of Desna. I arrived in Sincadere a month or so ago and quickly found myself aligned with the Basilica due to their open acceptance of appropriate faiths and sense of community. As a Desna, there are few things we hold as sacred as friendship and family, so to see such an accepting group of the Faithful coming together to cherish and learn from each of our Gods and Goddesses was something I HAD to be a part of! Sir Ralathos was very inviting, despite my lack of citizenship when I had approached him. Such kindness does not go unnoticed by we Desnans! I am going to do my best to get you the hard facts of everything that occurs, for only the truth may set you free! I am hoping you will all enjoy reading the stories I pursue and the leads I follow as much as I enjoy writing them and meeting all the different personalities that call our lands home. I hope to be able to dive head first in order to get you dear readers the most accurate information as possible! For this week's issue, we are going to focus on some rumors concerning our dear city; as well as the tale of Helheims up-and-coming groups, guilds, and citizens! Upcoming issues will explore the hottest rumors, as well as exclusive interviews with Helheim’s nobility and upper-echelons. If you are looking for a detailed account on any and all issues that pertain to the lovely city of Helheim, look no further than the herald! I had a unique opportunity to have a one-on-one conversation with Helheim’s Master of the Hunt; the head of the esteemed clan House MacLeod! When I had first heard of the young huntsman and met him during the night he led us into the Woods to keep the monsters at bay; I was under the impression that the handsome fellow would be quite the stone-cold play boy. The man is quite the daunting figure, clad in a presence you’d have to see for yourself to believe! Yet how did my estimations of the man hold up? Is he indeed the stoic figure we are use to seeing at the head of Helheim’s battles with the darkness, or is there more to him than meets the eye? Well, read for yourself! Our first questions to the young-upstart were simple ones, Who is he? How did he find himself in Helheim; Who exactly are the MacLeod’s and how did they become a reputable family of Monster-Hunters? "Me name is Vigil MacLeod. I am th'last survivin' son and heir o' Clan MacLeod. Fer generations, Clan MacLeod devoted themselves tae th'documentaiton, study and slayin' o' supernatural 'n occult creatures that prey upon mortals." He explained. "I am th'Huntsmaster o' Helheim, as well as th'Chief o' House MacLeod, which is one o' Helheim's unofficial Households." Our dearest Vigil went on to explain that it is possible te MacLeod’s have crossed paths with Helheims borders before, but was unable to confirm if any of his ancestors had also called the city home. Regardless; it is clear that this lineage values honor, responsibility and the safety of those they care about. Unfortunately for our dearest Huntsmaster most of his family's history was tragically lost when he was young. Despite the misfortunes that have occurred, he remained devoted to their teachings and continuing the MacLeod legacy. I have to say; and by the end of this article you will likely agree, Vigil Macleod is quite the noble soul. There are few souls stalwart enough to remain devoted to protecting the meek when faced with so much hardship; This young-man being one of them. As for why he chose Helheim, or rather it chose him if not for a long line of sweat and blood poured into her streets? Well, he gave an answer I as a humble servant of Desna resonated with: "I just sort o'... Well, I just sort o' happened upon Helheim, I suppose. That's th'best way tae describe it." Fate, and whichever god or goddess you believe governs it, has a way of putting you right where you need to be, or in our case where one is most needed. While it may not be the exciting possibility of the MacLeaods having been protecting our city for generations, there is merit in being the first of the bunch. Furthermore, as you are likely aware our Vigil has already taken a hands-on approach to our cities defense not once; but twice now. Hunts he detailed and explained in this very interview! Yet, if they were not an already established clan in Helheims nobility; who were the MacLeods? How did such a unique lineage come to be? Well, luckily for us our Vigil was able to recall his family's history without the primary source accounts! A tale of heartbreak, struggle; and the rejection of divinity. Vigil explained his families saga as follows: "Well, accordin' tae Legend? Th'first MacLeods were part o' th'Tuatha Dé Danann, which translates roughly tae "Folk o' th'Goddess Danu". Th'story goes that one such individual fell in love with a mortal, howe'er said mortal was slain by Barghest. Thus this Tuatha Dé, in his grief, opted tae live among th'mortals. Th'last words they muttered before leavin' th'Otherworld is our clan's motto." He breathed in. "Gu bràth a' sealg na h-oidhche. Fore'er Huntin' th'Night." He paused for a moment longer, before shrugging. "This is just legend, though. Th'more likely story is that monsters kept on causin' grief fer villages. Lycanthropes would attack travellers, trolls would eat livestock, demons would bring havoc and chaos... /Someone/ had tae t ake up th'responsibility o' protectin' those who couldn't protect themselves. Thus me family swore tae do so." There you have it folks! The tragic tale of resolve and hardship that brought this paradoxical figure to Helheim. Who’d have thought a long line of apparent mortals could potentially have connections to such a legendary figure, as well as shouldering an age-old vendetta against the worst of the worst that stalk Sincadere. I don’t know about you, but I feel much more confident in our cities chances of thwarting the Creatures of the Night with such a committed man leading our efforts from the front lines. How does our man do it, you wonder? Well, he gave us quite an inspiring explanation. "We're Humans. Whot we lack in supernatural abilities, we make up fer in grim determination and resolve." Unless you live under a rock (Looking at you, Cabbalans!) You would have heard of Vigils recent exploits. Going head-to-head with the nefarious members of the Crimson Fang, as well as hunting one of the most sinister creatures one can encounter along the dark woods; a Wendigo! How did our Vigil fair against these threats, and which left a bitter taste in his mouth? The answer was given from a point of reason that dismissed any preconceptions I had of this man being a cold-hearted brute who simply took joy in the hunt. "... I /believe/, that ultimately? Th'Wendigo was th'greater threat as opposed tae th'Crimson Fang. Y'see--- Th'Crimson Fang, while formidable and numerous? They can be reasoned with tae a degree. They have loved ones--- Or th'closest thing their ilk has tae love. They have individual goals, aspirations, desires that go beyond eating, fucking and killing.... But that Wendigo?" He gave a firm exhale. "It was a creature without allegiance. A beast that was driven by naught but ravenous hunger alone. If we had failed tae stop it, it would move on tae th'next kingdom, and th'next. Th'Wendigo was a threat tae Sincadere as a whole, while th'Crimson Fang cared more fer those that wandered th'Forests alone." I know for some it is all too easy to forget our rivals beneath the ground are living beings with emotion, compassion; and even fears. Despite what some of our more Zealous comrades claim, the Cabbalans are not all unthinking brutes. They can show mercy, or even restraint if given the chance to prove even they possess a bit of light. A creature such as the one who terrorized the woods without reason? Not so much. While I am sure there are others who share my pity in the potential humanity that was consumed by the creatures metamorphosis; such a threat could not be left to continue in its wanton destruction. If you learn anything from this week's issue, I hope you can learn to appreciate your fellows; as Sincadere has proven time and time again that even the most loved or kind-hearted souls can fall to malevolence under unfortunate circumstance. While the young Huntmaster was unable to salvage that humanity, even he was able to choose a less definite end for the poor soul. How you may ask? "Wendigo are created when a Human is driven tae a point o' starvation, where they are forced tae eat th'flesh o' their fellow man. A Wendigo's spirit possesses them, 'n turns 'em in tae a ruthless beast.... It is possible tae imprison those spirits though, which I was mercifully able tae do." Not only is our Vigil a skilled tacker and foe of the dark, but a man who possesses the know-how and empathy to not lose himself in the moment. Able to choose the potential of salvation over the slaughter of a potentially salvageable soul, this was another point in the interview where one can see that Humanity is a fire burning bright in MacLeod’s soul. It’s not wonder that he has gotten to where he is, and is able to stare into the abyss without losing himself to madness. Yet not all possess the skills or drive that Vigil has honed. One man cannot defend us all, so how does the Huntsmaster plan to ensure all who may not be so fortunate as to have him save them in their moment of need have a fighting chance? Well, our dear Huntmaster is aiming to give training to all who are willing, as well as actively recruiting new members to the MacLeod Hunting Party. "Me plans are tae host lessons fer Helheim's populace. Educate them on how tae best handle supernatural threats. TH'more folk arei nformed, th'easier it will be fer us as a kingdom tae deal with that which would prey upon mortals." I for one am eager to learn under Vigil’s tutelage. Not only to better my own chances of survival, but to see how such a skilled warrior fairs in a more personable setting. Fighting beasts is grim enough; but teaching those without experience to be able not to freeze when the time comes? While it may seem daunting, I am confident Vigil will take the steps necessary to ensure that we as a city are not only equipped with the knowledge needed to defend who and what we hold dear; but to possess even a fraction of his nerves when staring the most grim of eyes face-to-face. We spent a lot of time speaking on the facts and tactical knowledge the man possesses, but surely such a specimen has more going on than just his war with darkness. Who is he outside of his profession, and what bonds has the man forged while living amongst us? We at the Helheim even had the chance to learn more about his personal life. If you are curious to know what Guilds you can expect to see Vigil assisting, or if you have a chance of snagging the young bachelor for yourself; then don’t put this article down! The Herald has the answers you seek! When asked what groups Vigil stands behind, I was pleasantly surprised to see all the big names; "Th'Shadows o' Helheim, th'Basilica, and th'Black Tusks?" He asked. "Those three guilds, and th'men in charge o' them, are admirable. I would fully endorse them. Granted, th'Tusks can be a bit rowdy. Their customs might come across as outlandish. But..." He cracked a grin. "All three o' those guilds, and th'men leadin' t hem, act in th'interest o' Helheim. They've th'support o' House MacLeod in all their endeavors, fer as long as they continue tae put Helheim first." If you needed further proof that our Vigil is able to distnguish “evil” and “non-human” then those of my brothers and sisters who call the Tusks home can put their worries to rest! With such a kind endorsement, Vigil has once again proved himself not only able; but caring towards all who call Helheim home. Yet I know there are readers who have patiently waited to see if our Vigil is single and ready to mingle, however I would caution those who expect the mans heart to be of stone to take a closer look. I for one had went into this expecting to meet quite the charmer with a varied number of partners amongst his burly arms, and yet the truth was perhaps more heartbreaking than his own clans history. I warn those who read on to have a handkerchief ready, as this is sure to rattle your heartstrings! Vigil fell silent, his expression turning to one of shock. His face actually seemed to go pale. Gradually, however, that expression of his went from shock, to one of sorrow. "... There are. Though they don't wait fer me. I wait fer them tae return." He admitted softly, as he came to cradle his left arm. ".... There are two women who I love above all else. THose bein' me then-Wife, Nora MacLeod, as well as Tsuiteru Akira, me partner.... And aye--- I am aware, havin' two lovers is a bit o' a tabboo. But I can explain." He breathed in softly. "Nora... Me beloved Nora. I met her years back. WE travelled taegether, huntin' that which lurked in th'dark. There came a time where I was forced tae cut off me left arm in order tae save her. E'en now I would do so in a heart beat. She was actually carryin' our child in her womb when we arrived here. But.... Circumstances beyond out control forced her tae leave Sincadere." He paused. "And Akira.... TH'daughter o' Derizael and Tsuiteru. She, she made me feel loved again. [13:45] Vigil MacLeod: She supported me. Brought out th'best in me. But her father--- TH'Emperor o' th'Jade Lotus Empire, refused tae approve o' our relationship. Fer I am but a Mortal, and she was a Dragon. I would die in due time, leavin' her with no one. Like Nora, she had tae leave Sincadere fer reasons beyond our control." He fell silent for a few moments longer, coming to look at the ground. ".... I long fer their return. I genuinely do. But more than that? Beyond seein' them again? Whot I want most is fer those two women tae be happy, where'er they may be..." Who’d have thought that a man who seems to take the hardships of battle right on the chin could carry such an open, yet battered heart on his sleeve? While I originally wanted to follow this question up with his thoughts on the Cabbala and the Jade Lotus, I believe this painted a rather clear picture. Sure, the Cabbalans prove a constant nuisance toward both factions; but only one has directly denied the most wondrous of human emotions. While I may be mistaken in this assumption, I am willing to bet Vigil has more sympathy for those who act in accordance with their nature than one so cruel as to deny the prospect of true love. Those who wish to court our Huntsmaster take note; There is a soft interior hidden beneath that grim visage! I couldn’t help but ask; and somewhat regretted it as well, due to how quickly this upbeat discussion left me mourning the mans troubled life; What is up with the eyepatch? Was it robbed of him from some grand hunt with a nemesis, or perhaps hides an arcane secret that grants the otherwise human vessel his prowess? If you thought our poor Huntsmasters love-life was rough, Batter down the hatches! This next story is quite the grim one, yet I believe further shows just how suited our boy is for his line of work, and will quell any doubts one may have on his tenacity. "... I was a boy when I lost everythin'. A boy o' eleven years old, when a great host o' Demons marched upon Glenkirk. On that night, I saw everythin' I cared fer put tae th'sword, 'n burned tae ashes. I, and some other children, were taken as captives. Tae be broken down mentally 'n used tae summon a greater Demon." He sucked in a gentle breath. "Me Gaoler was especially cruel, y'know. Took great delight in torturin' me. At one point, such torture came in th'form o' a thin blade bein' put through me eye. Not deep enough tae slay me, naw. But enough tae cause me unspeakable agony." He came to touch at his eyepatch. "... They broke me, a'ight. But not in th'way they wanted. They wanted me tae become catatonic with fear. But as that year o' torture continued, all I felt was rage. Sheer rage, tae those who took me world from me. I was twelve years old when I slew me Gaoler. I lured him in tae me cell, and when he leaned down tae see if I was alive? I lunged fer him. ME teeth found his throat. I tore his windpipe out." It’s important to remember that in a world of Werebeasts, Wendigos, and sinister beings of other realms; that sometimes the most dangerous and wicked of souls are human. Who’d have guessed of all the species and opponents our Huntsmaster has thwarted, it would have been his fellow man who left the greatest scar? For those of you who fear how this impacts his emotions, or that this week's article is going to leave you with a bitter taste stuck upon your lips; Raise your chins up high! For our Vigil has a word or two to tell you, and those who fear the future to come: "You don't /get/ tae give up." He allowed those words to linger in the air for a time. "Givin' up? Curlin' up and just dyin' when all is lost? Y'don't /get/ tae do that. And I will tell ya why; Because there are those around love ya fiercely. Whether they are here in th'present, back in th'past, or no longer among th'livin'? There are individuals who depend upon ya. Who love ya above all else. Tae simply give up, is th'greatest betrayal o' their trust. Th'greatest insult tae their investment in ya." He stood himself up straight, holding his head up high. "It isn't gonnae be easy. It is /ne'er/ easy. There will be pain. Physical. Mental. Emotional. Y'will have nights where yer lookin' down at yer knife, with th'idea o' openin' up yer own throat will become more and more appealin'. And at th'desicive moment? At yer [14:09] Vigil MacLeod: absolute lowest? Y'will remember those dear tae ya. Y'will remember how they made all yer grief, and pain, have /meanin'/ through th'happiness and joy you've experienced with 'em." He remained silent for a moment longer, before finally concluding. "WIthout pain, joy is meanin'less. So endure that pain. Endure th'absolute /worse/ that life can throw at ya. Because that is how you come tae appreciate th'good that life has tae offer." Sometimes it’s a firm hand we need, most times it is tough love that gets through where kind-hearted words or white lies fail. So, for my dear readers who struggle in the face of darkness, and those who wonder how one can ever face such horrors and move forward? Vigil has given you your clear answer. Life is a package deal, and for every storm there must be a rainbow. While times may look grim, and the future of Helheim remains uncertain, we must persevere. For those we hold dear, and those who will walk in our place tomorrow, we cannot afford to quit or wallow in fear and misery. There you have it! The Herald’s exclusive interview with Vigil Macleod is only the first piece of our upcoming stories, and a promising example of how we as a city will never surrender so long as such headstrong fellows walk alongside us. This is certainly a lot to take in, so tune in to our next article where we will deep-dive into rumors surrounding our city, as well as the exciting stories of our Queen and the other nobility! May the winds always blow favorably upon you, and may Desna and the Four continue to smile upon us all! Elven Eye Aigie's fashion tips and guide Looking for that perfect outfit to wow the crowd at court or to dazzle your opponents on the battlefield? Do you have a big speech coming up and you need all eyes on you? Looking to catch the eye of a handsome dragon? These tips from Sincadere's original dragon temptress are sure to lure him in! Featuring commentary from the first dragon himself, Vaeros Othim. If you don't yet have an abundance of slaves at your beck and call, working night and day until their fingers or tendrils bleed to create that perfect wardrobe in order to snag that handsome benefactor, here are some cheap tips on the go! Article 1
Catching the eye of a handsome dragon If your dragon does not covet you as THE most valuable treasure in his hoard then he is either not worth your time or you are not trying hard enough! Vaeros: “Probably the latter.” Hygiene is important Dragons have highly developed senses and they can smell your stench over long distances. If you're out here smelling like the swamp above Cabbala, then you'll only manage to keep him at bay! March yourself down to one of the local bathhouses and scrub that grime away. You don't need to add a lot of perfume afterwards, just add your own homemade honey along the juncture of your neck and you're good to go. Don't fret about storing for later, it's best used when made and you can always ask for help from the one you attract in making more. Note: To keep your homemade honey fresh you should store it in a warm place, preferably at body temperature. Vaeros: “Don’t put it anywhere you don’t want his nose to go.” Accentuate your assets Don't hide your value under tons of fabric, let them know your mounds can rival any pile of gold. The tighter the fit, the better. Highlight your best features by brushing on finely crushed shell powder to give it that extra shine, then dab on a bit of edible berry juice to add extra color and sweetness to your cheeks and lips. Vaeros: “The blood of his enemies is an acceptable alternative.” Less is more Leaving something to the imagination is a good strategy in some situations, but when it comes to dragons your value and worth has already been assessed. Show him the investment he is making often! Vaeros: “Don’t bury your treasures.” Don't let yourself go In time, as your value to your dragon rises, he'll lavish you with the most expensive jewels, silks, and products that money can buy. Your job as his treasure is upkeep. Keep yourself in tip-top shape! Vaeros: “Dragons eat bovine.” By far the best way to maintain a slim and fit figure is a strict routine of morning, afternoon, and night time exercises with healthy protein meals in between. This has the added benefit of prolonging your life so you can keep indulging from your dragon's vast wealth. Vaeros: “Ask your dragon for the best exercise routine as they are the experts.” Next Time: Accessorize! What gems are HOT and what gems are NOT. OOC Contributers: Kallen, Nimue, Hawkstone, Vashet, Terra, Ikuto, Atlas, Gobbie, and Lossehellin Many have heard the name Mick Dagger. It is the GGN's mournful duty to report that this famous Goblin... the Grand Reclusiarch of the Great Goblin Gasilica ®, the CEO of Goblin Allied Sanitation Service (or G.A.S.S.) ®, the Administrivus of TotallyLegit Documents ®, the Executive Director of TotallySafe Tours ®, the Goblin Gorgun of Rent-a-Tusk ® and the Lead Lip-Syncer of the MeatBeatles ®, has died. This evening Mick Dagger along with his Sugar Mama and Wife, Yisu Dagger, died by suicide off the Nekoyami Island. Reports confirm the remains of a goblin, a nekoyami and a horse were found in the wreckage far below the JLE. Reports also confirm that the Dagger family will be filing a lawsuit against the Jade Lotus Empire for negligence on the part of the Air Kami who are suppose to catch wayward travelers. GGN believes that Big Deal Brokil will be the litigator in the case. He is survived by his siblings, Quirk Dagger who earned her name due to a series of peculiarities. One is a seemingly pathological addiction to crime that compelled her into hijinks and the other was a complete rejection of the more standard tusk dress to instead steal and wear the fanciest puffiest dresses she could find. And Slapstick Dagger, who tries to make a living as a jester using bad jokes and tricks. A waiver is always required for his shows as a way to not give back refunds due to the occasional guest going backstage and disappearing. The funeral arrangements are being made and will be announced soon. An admission of 5c is expected for all attendees but a 1c discount is provided for anyone willing to say nice things about the deceased during the ceremony. All gift receipts should be made out to Rick Dagger. ((If you wish to read the RP, you can do so on Origins discord.)) ((Anyone may play one of the goblins listed below if they wish, any goblin marked with an asterixis is already spoken for. Simply message lossehellin on discord or SL to call dibs on your goblin name.)) Other notable Daggers:
Acoustic Dagger, odd fascination with singing in the caves. Addick Dagger, really gets hung up on substances. Airsick Dagger, Bat-rider who thinks he's a dragonrider Attick Dagger, likes living in high places. Angelick Dagger, he's got a little devil in him. Antic Dagger, the prankster Bailiwick Dagger, everyone thinks his mom is actually a basilisk *Benedick Dagger, is a cleric of the Grinning One. Called Cumber for short. Bigwick Dagger, coming in with that big gob energy Brick Dagger, the window washer. Boomstick Dagger, fisherman. Bootlick Dagger, the best 'yes goblin' you'll ever meet. Chick Dagger, the chicken tender. As in handler... not food! Chopstick Dagger, from overseas, uses chopsticks for everything. Clerick Dagger, is also a cleric. Click Dagger, meat beetle and Ogre trainer. Cowlick Dagger, the barber. Crick Dagger, the masseur. Derrick Dagger, he's adopted (he's not even green) *Dick Dagger, he's such a prick. Dipstick Dagger, Engineer and Mechanic Dominick Dagger, he works with leather. Dynamic Dagger, Can ONLY yell or whisper. Fanatick Dagger, really focuses on things. Fantastik Dagger, super clean. Feministic Dagger, really likes the ladies. Fishstick Dagger, D'Orc manufacturer. Flick and Lick Dagger, the porn twins. Frick Dagger, they never swear. Fossick Dagger, the treasure hunter. Generick Dagger, he's kinda boring. Gimmick Dagger, such a showman. Hick Dagger, he ain't from around here. Holistic Dagger, the alchemist. Homesick Dagger, traveling salesman who never makes it home for Winter Veil Hydrophobic Dagger, Can swim very well, just really hates water. Ick Dagger, everyone hates him. He's gross. Works with Sick Dagger. Joystick Dagger, carries a stick called Joy, spreading happiness one smack at a time Kick Dagger, the blind monk to always stubs his toe. Killick Dagger, the Sailor. *Knick Dagger, seller of oddities. Not to be confused with Nick Dagger. Limerick Dagger, there once was a goblin named Limerick, he was really bad at poetry. Lockpick Dagger, works in law enforcement. Logick Dagger, silver tongued, can talk his way out of anything. Lopstick Dagger, was born with a lopsided face. Lovesick Dagger, the bard. Lunatick Dagger, astrologist. Lyrick Dagger, the songwriter. Majestic Dagger, the wealthiest Dagger. Majick Dagger, the illusionist. Mathmatick Dagger, an accountant. Manick Dagger, such a bummer. Maverick Dagger, always playing cards, nicknamed Burt. Medick Dagger, is a healer. Mythik Dagger, he's a legend! Necrotick Dagger, braaaaaaains! Nephric Dagger, loves steak and kidney pie. Nick Dagger, the swordsmith. Nonstick Dagger, slickest cook you'll ever find. Nudnick Dagger, the most boring and most annoying Dagger. Optimistic Dagger, the most agreeable greenskin you will ever meet. Panick Dagger, super excitable. Parasitick Dagger, a total freeloader. Pick Dagger, he's the guitarist. Pinprick Dagger, the Tailor Politick Dagger, used cart salesman. Prick Dagger, he's just a dick. Prolific Dagger, lots of kids. Quick Dagger, the mail delivery technician. Realistic Dagger, OBSESSED with making sure everyone is "living in the moment". *Rick Dagger, he's the drummer. *Schtick Dagger, he's always got something going on. Shashlik Dagger, is a chef who shish kebabs. *Shawshank Dagger, former prison guard. Sick Dagger, tends the cook pot at the Black Tusk camp. *Slapstick Dagger, "bewear the Stick of Slapping held byThe Great Slapstick Dagger. Giggle and pay well or else yer rump shall swell!" Slick Dagger, total greaser. Or lady's man. Or both. Statick Dagger, he's the same guy he's always been. Stick Dagger, an Ogre Handler. Also professional jouster. *Thicc Dagger, she's got it going on. Tick Dagger, suuuuper nervous demolitionist. Used to have a brother named Tock. *Trick dagger, is a magician Uptick Dagger, obsessed with the latest trends. Vick Dagger, always has wonderful minty breath. Warwick Dagger, he's a wizard. Wick Dagger, the candlemaker. The Importance of Having a Raven House. For most part, dear reader, we try to explore the most succulent topics on this our editorial section. Picking up the very best of the word on the street. Carefully filtering the chaff from the wheat, to thrust an extensive and thoroughly deep investigation on critical matters. If only to shove the undeniable pristine truth down your eyes. Tis not an easy task, the Cabbala Chronicle takes pride on delivering to you the best news in all of Sincadere. But after our offices got drowned by a flock of pesky ravens, rudely dropping their waste and feathers, as well as a mountain of your poorly scribbled letters. We are forced to reply in kind to you, our faithful readers, before these forsaken birds peck our eyes out. So instead of assessing the reasons behind Hellheim's short attention span. Which apparently has misplaced one of their high-ranking guards, found patrolling the caves close to the Cabbalan College of Obscure Arts. Most likely a genuine lost individual worthy to be the subject of further study, and thorough dissection. OR denouncing the atrocities of the vicious and corrupt Jade Empire. In a piece that would have included an in-depth piece about the empress mood swings and rabid outbursts, most likely worsened after the emperor's need to remain cuddled only by his precious katana. An ancient asian tradition to combat the declining proficiency of the flesh tanto that nests between his legs. We are now forced to deliver you this, our gift in the name of the Summer Festival. And expand our blooming new social section "Rumors Bloody Rumors", to focus solely on the much more dangerous, spiky, and quite spicy subject of… and I cannot believe I am writing this… loOove! Summer came upon us like a hurricane, rising the temperatures of the Cabbala, and moisturizing their inhabitants. Was it the ongoing war with the Jade Empire which rose tensions leaving the dwellers of the dark hard and stiff? Or has some of the less honest barkeeps been dumping love potions on the Bound Elf free booze nights? Some concerned dwellers point their fingers to our aquatic fiends, claiming they have entered a mating season and are jellying the waters we all bathe in. While the CCOA most notable scholars remain suspiciously silent. Was it an experiment gone terribly wrong? are we under a lust driven curse? Important questions that demand answers from our leadership... that is, whenever they are dry and not merrily humping… But whatever the reason, my dear reader, heat! is upon us. Take comfort that it has affected us all, from the most humble deviant, to our mighty Archon. https://discord.com/channels/633123431046709249/642817732248862728/1016490170196963438 It was during the marvelous summer festivities held in that magical land of Nascentia that love collected it's first casualty. It seemed that all of Sincadere has gathered together, dancing and prancing in a revolting display of peace and harmony. Amidst the ceremonies some folk would focus on commerce, others on emptying a drink, many would bury the axe and mend old wounds, but the bravest ones most would attempt to rip open new ones during the Bloodbowl tournament. And what a tournament it was, for not only we witness the combatants bled in the sacred brawl. You see dear reader, if you closely paid attention, you would have noticed that the very Archon of the Cabbala and the Great Gibbon sharing matching outfits. Both dancing between the goblins to the same exact rhythm as they shamelessly refereed the match. What a lewd brush of hands we all saw, when the orc let the faun touch the heavy girth of his mighty hammer. So disturbed was the Archon by the sheer size, that more than once she missed a stroke... i mean… a strike. A bless to some of the warriors, saving them from being utterly squashed. Oh! our heart goes to the fluffiest of fauns, after certain king's suspicious disappearance, we were worried her heart and loins may have fallen prey of winter and frost. But our fears were for naught, as cinders were certainly reignited by Great Forest Orc, kindled the embers into undeniable blazing love, we can only hope the Great Gibbon survives our beloved leader's horned touch. Love may have flourished amid the bloody combat, but like a pesky virus seems to have spread into the darkest shadows. If you live long enough in Sincadere, you surely have heard about certain runt. Askha her name, trouble her game. Those that have wits know to shiver in fear when she makes her appearance. The infamous brat was finally cornered by none other than the mighty Warlord of the Horde. Word on the street claims the shadow drake had finally stretched her clutches to catch the renown criminal. When all hope seemed lost with no way out but the noose, when it was Askha's time to pay her debt in tears and blood. The Drake produced a bouquet of flowers and bent her noble knee. The public stared dumbstruck, jaws dropped across the crowd, as we all heard the most honeyed words come out of the Warlord's mouth. Bedazzled the little crook, force to choose between the rolling of her head or the firm spanks of a mate. Askha's reply made the executioner weep, dropping the axe and lifting his arms in defeat. Are her intentions pure, or just another ruse? I encourage you all to keep an eye on the brat's arse as she walks the path into the gallows of marriage. I am forced to remain on this swampy subject, and yes dear reader, like you I feel sticky, moist, and rather stiff. It seems the poison of love had laid siege to our caves. No one is safe, no humanoid, devil, or beast; even good Doctor Robin has fallen ill to the summer heat, trading her club "anesthesia" to hold hands with, not one but two intriguing suitors. What a pest love has become, if you doubt my words and demand proof, seek no further than Korranu and some bouncy butt named Ella. The corrupted mutt that brought terror to the surface dwellers, has yielded to the force of love. He now roams the caves in a detestable merry mood in the company of his brand-new squeaky toy. Who is this mysterious Ella? where does she came from? was she bound, brought, or bought? Who is to know! Regardless, it seems our dear mangy mutt is happy sinking his fangs on her twitchy curves. His tail brooming the path he takes, swinging left and right with such playful force, that he alone has left the cleaning imps out of their usual line of work. https://discord.com/channels/633123431046709249/642817732248862728/1016490335309942894 Some people love hearts, others apparently love lace. Whispers had come to our ears about prince Dinnin, succulent gossip of one of the members of the highest class in the underworld society. While our warriors give their life to keep the Jade Empire at bay on the ongoing war, Prince Dinnin has been using his influence on the caves to divert war funds and resources in developing his private wide network of professional panty snatchers. And not just any panties, worry not ladies... and gentleman (The Cabbala Chronicle do not judge) your undergarments are safe, for the prince private collection is proudly comprised solely Gaboon's laced breeches. According to the whistleblower, the overflowing stash of silky skid mark lingerie is stored under the very throne room of the Cabbala Keep. Has Gaboon's might captured the prince's heart as well? Is the noble Dinnin just a sickening orc stalker? Or is there some sort of messy love triangle between our faun, the prince and green bulky orc? Time will tell, we wish the very best to this royal entrepreneur, and sincerely hope he does not succumb to a poisonous needle any time soon. After reception of an anonymous letter with an odd fragrant fennec scent, we must shed some light in the financial aspect of the festivities. You may think we are diverting from the subject, but that is not quite the case. Such lavish display of goods during the festival surely emptied someone’s trousers, and not quite in a kinky way, for you see some folks just love to clutch their hands around some coin. Word in the streets signals to a conspiracy to inflate market prices on certain stalls. The letter claims that the most noble of wine houses in Sincadere, Gladiators Wine, ruthlessly rigged the price of their Summerfest Wine. Declaring it to be a limited, one-of-a-kind, edition bottle stash as a marketing ruse while selling diluted common table wine instead. Troubling as this news may seem, our secret informant continues raging on his hastily scribbled letter, stating that even the sanctity of the slave auction was soiled by unscrupulous grabby folks. It may come as a surprise to you dear reader, but love can most certainly drain your balls as well as your pouch. So it happens that during the slave auction, Lily the cheerful bouncy elf slave of the caves, was rent out for a staggering sum of 8 silver pieces. And while the letter provides so called “ample evidence” of the auction being rigged, we praise the sale as proof of the Cabbalan slaves’ undeniable quality. Clearly fostered under the watchful eye of the Cabbala’s Warden. Nonetheless, the Cabbala Chronicles will always pursue the truth to the bitter end, and to shut any voices that claim we are a biased source of information, our editor has already sent the informant letter to alert the Cabbalan authorities. Rest assured troubled citizen, the truth will be squeezed out one way or another. https://discord.com/channels/633123431046709249/642817732248862728/1016490484568444968 Of course, we cannot close this edition on love without peeking into the lives of some of the oldest couples in the Cabbala. Our reporters had finally managed to corner Runeh and Eclipse Fang, not an easy task as our journalists kept disappearing into thin air once they entered the Hound's Den. Apparently after their mating ritual the couple has been enjoying their honeymoon period in the only way a Cabbalan couple can, raiding the empire lands, getting entwined in chains and ropes, taking strolls in the corrupt Yokai forest, enjoying regular breeding rumps in public, and ripping innocent creatures together. Has love struck true with them? Well when the bravest of our investigators inquire about Runeh's apparent involvement with a mundane human in matching pink outfits, he suddenly was burst into flames under the White Hound's touch. Catch by surprise, we have come to swiftly learn that their love had ignited something, besides passionate loins, in the famous White Hound. But what about Runeh, has anyone actually knows anything about this black beast? Sadly, our interview was cut short by their growling roar, forcing the surviving journalist to run away as these two creatures begun a wrestling match above the brothel's orgy bed. But rest assured dear readers, once we refill our ranks, we shall find time to make a proper piece on them. In the meantime, the Cabbala Chronicles will pay good copper for any viable and true information on this couple. Speaking of secluded and private shady couples. When words from the forest claimed there had been snow during the summer heatwave. Our reporters rushed to location, pushing the goblins and fae aside as they opened their mouths to take a taste of the miraculous white flakes that poured down around the Tusk encampment. Our brave journalists were committed to find the truth. And after careful meteorological assessment and licking of the salty slush. They discovered that in the skies above the forest canopy, two dragons have been seen performing some nasty lewd dirty dance. Yes dear reader, if you have not seen Kaiaa and Davros as of late, fear not. One of the sweetest couples on the caves has been flying around completely smitten by that horrible disease of love. To those that dwell on the surface, we advise caution and suggest you wear a heavy raincoat, especially when the forecast says its sunny and yet! It drizzles. There you have it my dear readers, Love… what a wicked little thing… it sticks to all of us one way or another, creeping on the shadows like brute ready to strike. Waiting until you turn your back, only to pounce and thrust its massive tentacle up your ass. Summer has come and go like a storm, flooding the caves with it's pesky glitter. If you wish to stay true, and avoid this curse, do not try to find others nor join a support group. For the exclusive price of one single silver coin the Cabbala Chronicles may send you a loveless package with notes on how to avoid it's curse and a stuffed raven for you to brood over. Of Weddings Bells and Torture Tolls. Just when we were ready to print this lovely tabloid a somewhat loony dove crashed into our offices. Who sends a dove to do a raven’s work? On it’s little eyes mischief, on it’s beak a red lace, on its talons a short message. Such horror when we read it out loud. The editor himself leap over the desk and scream loudly to the imps “STOP THE PRESS” We simply cannot let this article break free without adding this last-minute Breaking News [Cabbala Love Edition]. Prince Dinnin, orc panty thief entrepreneur, has been cornered on the Keep with his hands on the precious silky loot. His mischief has been publicly exposed by the Archon herself. The amateur conspirator crimes run deeper than just a mere diversion of war funds. This panty sniffing junkie, had tried to lewdly hold hands with the Headmistress of the CCOA, even attacking the mighty scholar and trying to kill her if she did not comply. After his failed attempt, the raunchy prince run into the Jade Empire exposing arcane summoning secrets of the caves, endangering us all, in exchange for safe harbor and a thorough polish of the emperor’s katana. We have learned from good sources that this sickening nekoyami lover is even wanted by the Crimson Fang for releasing war prisoners and their private chew toys back into the wild. His crimes publicly exposed, his betraying ass bare for us to witness. But my dear gentlefolk, before you go sharpening your pitchforks and lifting your torches tonight; Love!... yes, that wretched epidemic that had befallen us all… had claimed the Archon’s heart yet again. In the most succulent twist of this passionate love polygon, the fluffiest of fauns stomped on the prince royal jewels, stretching her hand with a delicate wave she demanded one thing, and one thing only… Marriage!... and big fucking ring… The self-proclaimed demon prince wriggle and scream, his face contorted as if he had swallowed a fish, oh how he wished for certain big bulky orc to come into his aid. How would Gaboon take this news? Is he still breathing and in good mog? In the meantime, dear dwellers of the dark, stay vigilant. If someone comes asking for a dagger or mentions interest on summoning or the arcane, politely throw their suspicious arses into the cells. Remember, you read it first and read it hard on the Cabbala Chronicles. If you doubted about our veracity, doubt no more! To the Archon, our best wishes. To Gaboon, good mog. To prince Dinnin, haste and expedience. May he dash in search for the biggest diamond, and dart fast… Averting the roasting flames that surely the Archon’s father will lit behind.
And as always, dear reader, sleep with one eye open… maybe two on these heated nights, unless you wish to be tuck and humped. - R. Hangfire |
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