River Of Purity

[DocterDuck]

A writ would be left by the entrance to the sewer-system once more. It was written much more blankly, with less 'penmanship' and a greater emphasis on processing it over the course of a few minutes. It leaked with fresh ink, drizzling down and forming a murky cloud of welded polish along the papery surface, reading;

Gentry of Those Obliged

It comes as no certain surprise that my former writ has garnered the adjacent public's reactions. Alas, it seems that my own war has yet to finalize its passage over the course of twenty-four hours. Thus, the only quarry I must apprehend is that of continuation beneath this honourable creed. A creed that shall not stoop to the lows of defeat, but through the eternal war which must be perceived.

Tonight, I was defeated sorely by the hands of a pathetic rabble who each wrought the scent of putrid Occultism through their quagmire-like pores. I am not so easily deterred, even with my body broken and on the verge of death's gate, I have still survived. My present arrogance remains the greatest weakness I face, which must be replenished by the excessive training necessary to continue this crusade. Yes, that is right, I am going to 'bulk up' as the lads so claim upon these present hours.

Yet, that claim shall not be followed without the true presence of this message. The message I ordain is one of glory, the creation of a territory spearing the hellscape which forms across the sewer system. A river connecting down along the rightmost-edge to an old cistern is where the axe of purity must be wedged first. I shall uptake to guarding and claiming the region, lest another hodgepodge arrives. This river is the River of Purity, a symbol of glorious strength.

Yet, for those militias needed to even stop me, I say that my recognition of your efforts remains undeterred. If I must slink beneath the darkness, though a crocodile of Daendroc, festering beneath the pools of fish and greenery, I shall. I will hunt you down to the greatest depths of which my might will not be let go, even if it may be the slightest annoyance to your general existence. Deterrence at its finest.

That being said, especially with those lovely Throngs coming to stomp threats of action against myself, I take to a simple and honoured challenge;

To whomever considers themself the 'Artok' around our fair city, I wish to commence a championship duel to prove who is truly deserving of that title. A single match, no homocide, but with the necessary brutality to make our points across. It will be arranged in whatever arena necessary, whenever necessary.

Fury Last
Sera Roinval Arestinescua​

 

[HeyoBiggums]

A response was posted above this.​

To Rionval Arestinescua,

When I came upon this "challenge", you brought a great laugh from me. Nothing about this is a challenge. This is a plea for attention, a plea for respect, a plea to convey a point. You remind me of a child. All I see from this notice is a bunch of petty semantics, claiming to have some petty message, and you're crying nobody is listening.

When a Constable told me this was an invitation, I didn't expect it to be to a Circus. Duels are not purely about the duelists, because the audience's perception of a duel can be argued to hold more significance than the results of the duel itself. Artoks duel Urlan who the tribe thinks will make a better fit for the tribe. Artoks hold the preference and favor of the people they watch over. And considering you cannot step outside without being slandered, or being an annoyance with your extremist agenda. You fail to spread your message due to your extreme use of violence and harsh words.

Don't challenge someone you can't fill the shoes of.

Return to the Carnival, your clown kin miss you.

Your "challenge" has been rejected.

Sincerely,

Commissioner Tarlok,
State Metropolitan

 

[Iyyiushi]

Sera Arestinescua,

My Huntmaster answered for me in what would be a suitable reply. An Urlan wishing to be an Ailor will never lead a Throng. Your challenge is denied for your proclaimed weakness. The Hunt remains until you submit to my will or leave the city. Even then, you will not be welcomed into our ranks; you belong where you desire to be - Al-Url.

[Signed]
Revna Hjortsund

 

[IreliaRamora]

A response is tacked onto one of the postings, written in an elegant hand.
​

"I will admit- on your first posting, I wrote you off as a simple fool. I saw the words "war" and "sewers" and didn't read further, expecting you to post your little tantrum and then be done with it. Clearly I was wrong.

This posting reeks of nothing but your lunacy and your clear desire to be served death firsthand. It's laughable to consider that there is anything pure in the Sewers, much less a shit-filled river flowing from sources unknown. Your paltry territory claims hold no weight, and you most certainly will be punished for even attempting to carve out some sort of safe space for yourself. Whatever perceptions were given to you that you could do this, and do this alone, are either spun in a web of cruelly falsified information or absolutely deranged ideals.

Let me remind you of a couple of things from your little spat last night: You were quickly cut down for your hubris in a location where the Lothar Order has no rights. I should not have to remind you that the only reason you still live is that I found death to be too merciful for you, and instead sought to prolong your pitiful life by stabilizing your wounds. Perhaps you had some chance at redemption, but now even I don't believe that any of the Void Gods would try to save you from your own idiocy. You are, through and through, a weak link. Rejected by the Lothar Order, and now even your own kin.

I should not have to remind you that actions have consequences. Last night was a warning to remain elsewhere, to hopefully save your pitiful mundane existence by not trying to fight what you clearly don't understand. And you blatantly ignored it.

You've been given your one chance. Consider each new infraction a building blood debt.

The next time I see you where you don't belong, I will collect. Perhaps losing an eye would help you realize how blind you have become.

May Carraq guide my spear true, to remove this stain of weakness from the world. Morkhaar awaits your flesh."

[Signed]
Norrvaron Vaskiirn,
The Infernal Hunter

 

[MyCatBubbles]

A short, sweet snippet would have been nailed below the others.
​

I absolutely hate public displays of discourse, believing them to be nothing but pitiful mudslinging matches. However as someone who happened to stroll by to the unfortunate beatdown on your person I can say confidently that you're calling cowards to those who've been spit on as animals by the cities snakes. You misjudge those who were refused a fair chance to prove themselves how they see fit, backstabbed, refused mercy and goodness by our cities paragons of virtue, and climbed upon by those who abandon all sense of their code and morality to scour a social ladder that's placed upon a forever shifting dune of sand. They were originally wrought iron beaten by this city into hardened steel, and they refuse to bend.

Although, I do know well enough that you're not entirely wrong. There are cowards and honorless curs in this city. There are decievers, liars and cheaters.. and for a Lothar? You'll have more plentiful pickings of the occult above than you will down below. Continue your crusade, but do not be deceived into thinking the sewers are the source of all problems. If you still do however believe that we are the source of all evil then from one knight to another: don't attack the unclean masses that just want to be left alone, there are plenty of those who would gladly give you a fair fight, myself included. Good luck in your duel.

Everwatcher guide you,
Swordsworn Novak, Bloodcast Order