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Post by Warlord on Sept 26, 2019 3:59:56 GMT -5
Open RP Thread - ORPT!
Rona makes it atop the mound with a new batch of recovered fallen. Thunderstone's shrine to Kelemvor is sent remains she could discern, but at the Totem's gravesite, she gives a proper burial for those lost of family and recognition to still honor any soldiers and heroes therein. Her hands dirty among the soils as she humbly buried and recited her usual prayer.
"And in the days we sought patriotism for a cause, do we rest among the hero's halls, where a soul finally knows its battle pause: all met with a glory of meads and feasthalls."
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Post by Warlord on Oct 9, 2019 8:30:50 GMT -5
Adventurers and special guests gathered for a grand feast.
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Post by Warlord on Jan 3, 2021 2:00:19 GMT -5
Weeks ago a grave was made, whose tombstone sponsors a bright gleaming yellow-angel-winged helmet atop of it.
"Here lies our beloved Quake, the Catmage, our Impossible and the Strongest of All."
Of late, Rona Cloudaxe spends a lot of alone time around the shrine to take care of it directly. Word is sent-out in rumor across Cormyr of a haven for Uthgardt that might travel into Cormyr..
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Post by Runa Rothgar on Jan 27, 2021 19:59:25 GMT -5
The priestess of Oghma, known as Runa Rothgar would be seen leaving the south gates to visit the Uthgardt sanctuary. At times she would make sure the braziers are filled to the brim, of course with Mister Gray Mittens as her mule.
"Mistress, why must I always carry the Charcoal?" Mister Gray Mittens asks as he hauls a large sack in tow.
"You are dark Gray and it matches you quite well. You could use a little exercise." Runa responds playfully.
"I can make you a dark gray after the life is sucked from your bones. Then you would match, Mistress."
"You come up with such wonderful suggestions, Mister Gray Mittens, Put the bag over there."
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Post by Warlord on Feb 1, 2021 2:23:19 GMT -5
Two or maybe three cats play around in some bushes near the graveyard. The felines are likely chewing upon the Lamiaceae family. Nepeta cataria never chewed so goot for the frisky ones as they enjoyed life.
One grave maintained a gleaming gold-yellow and angel-winged helmet mounted atop the tombstone. Wings of the helmet were very large and there-in an empty void lingered with much mystery.
Down towards the river, Rona could be found as she fished, and otherwise enjoying life.
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