So, You Want To Slander

[Carcalla]

Gorak Helocanc would go around hanging these all over imperial isle, old town, the Nook, the Willow, even the dwarven bars themselves. Some would even make it to the sewers, despite Enki's best efforts, some of the Gorak didn't seem too bright. They would guard them all day, drawing a dagger on anyone trying to rip it down, but would retire home for the night. It was written in neat papyrus, of the orken style, and had two translations, one inf Vashnolor, the other, in Common.

Dear Markus Ironfist;
You know, it really got a kick out of me when I heard about all the shit you've done, and then to go right around to paint me in a bad light. So to start this, let me say that I have done some shitty things, I will admit as much, but the things you've done are by far worse. Let's start with how you stole most of the employees who previously worked for me by making largely false promises, something I would never do. But, that is hardly of matter now, I have strengthened my workforce beyond what you could ever hope to do.

I am not racist towards dwarves, I have a good deal of friends to them, but you acting like the dwarven savior is fucking rich. You go to the Peerage, claiming to care about Regalia and that what you do will benefit the Empire when I have personally been told that you favor Ellador and I assume that once you've drained the precious resources of this glorious empire, you'll crawl right back to that pocket of fuckin' ice. Not to mention you overcharge, which I've been told dozens of times; "Oh you're far cheaper than those dwarves" or, "It's a tad cheap for work this good." And then you go and slander my name behind my back to the nobles whom I would serve to a dying breath? That's almost poetic. Even when I offered you and your Elladorian workforce a better living condition somewhere else, you denied me without consulting anyone. Get this through your thick skull Markus, you are a single dwarf with a half decent forge, not the dwarf Messiah.

Let's talk about that Assena you tried to give to a pawnshop to sell to Werebeasts so you didn't have to get your hands dirty. I won't specify this shop, however, the implications of this are vast my friend, first and foremost, please god tell me how you got Assena legally. I would honestly like to know because not even I can get that, it's contraband in Regalia. I would really like to know that, not to mention that you tried to sell it to Werebeasts, who are enemies to the state as a whole. Don't try to slander my name with all of my problems, most of which you make up, and then go ahead and do this. I have proof too, this pawner has the proper equipment to handle assenna, and he has no other reason to use that now does he? And I don't expect the common man to know what Assena is either, you essentially used the good Regalian workforce to your advantage, so you didn't have to get your hands dirty. Shame on you.

Sincerely,
Enki Ningiszhida
Forgemaster of Vakgar's Torch
@Martyr_321 @SummerWhine @mayino

 

[Altalar]

Beola looked towards the note amused. "Doesn't that foolish orc realize I've already given them a better job. It will be him that comes crawling for an alliance if anything, I have to add if the Torch wasn't hot headed by some stubborn tusked little man, id have felt some pity. So he wants to slander my employees so be it, I enjoy the competition." The general looked towards the tavern in front, her eyes set on the forge as she smiled eagerly plotting in her mind the next advance to come.

 

[Eyrok]

Ztril drank from his kaffee with a face like a gargoyle as he read the poster over for the fifteenth or so time.
He had not had a good night. Somewhere in the Allar district the sound of a faulty outflow pipe had produced a constant saw-like noise. It had been too stuffy, even by the tolerance of the Al-Allar, to sleep under the sheets. A whining little insect, just on the edge of hearing but not loud enough to actually be located, had also taken up residence in his bedroom. The grand total meant that Ztril was running on exactly no sleep and very little in the way of patience.
He'd dragged his tail over to the Talon and Claw once the sun rose in the hope that some alchemy work would clear his head. Maybe some of the diplomatic matters that needed to be attended to as an Arbiter of the Yaotl Digmaan would come his way and he could see about trying to play games of diplomacy. Ztril was never very good at them, but he liked to think he was open minded. Over his years in various apothecaries he'd worked with such a misfit collection he knew better than to dismiss people at face value.
It was as he was pulling onto the boulevard however that the Al-Allar saw the poster. It had a distinct handwriting he was familiar with by now. And now, scanning over the text for the sixteenth or so time, Ztril noticed his diminishing kaffee had done nothing to reduce the massive stress headache he now had.
Ztril was very unhappy.

 

[ThePear]

"And the Gold Keeps on coming, Bob, you better be writing this shit down" Jimmy Yelled running into the Regalian times HQ with a stack of posters.
"For fuck sake Jimmy how can you find all of this great shit yet you can't get me a God darn Kaffee" A very angered Bob said looking down at the posters.

 

[bahmboozled]

Clack—clack—clack!

Iron-shod hooves came to a halt, as the scuttling drone of Goraks trailed around the area. They, too, looked up to the Url; whether out of vigilance or pure curiousity, they did not keep their eyes off of him should he have tried anything. Neither was the Einar in the mood to prod the hornet's nest that was the noticeboards, nor did he intend to partake in the barbaric act that was ripping off notices only to burn them in the comforts of his home. His attention was more-so directed to the contents of the letter. He stood there for a while, perhaps even too long, as he took the time to brood over what was written.

Roused from his reverie, he let out a derisive snort. Not much was to be said, but his words would be remarkably taken note of, as word of it would spread by the ever-gossiping citizens of Regalia,

"It seems to me that businesses are becoming whores for money without a care for ethics; they care naught for who they sell their wares to. Is it even possible to trust these dwarves?"

A momentary pause, as he took time to re-gather his thoughts once more, smacking his lips to mull over.

"Though, that is to say that the contents of this letter cannot be entirely trusted... yet. An inquiry must be made, a personal investigation."
​

 

[TalkChat]

The small Gorak Orc ran peddled across the office of the Rakhon. His eyes flickering up toward the Orcon with an almost mildly anxious breath about him. He gestured out toward the Count with one hand as he spoke in Vashkulaar, his opposing fist held tight against his chest. "Rakhon.. it- /it/ seems the Arak Ningiszhida is..-" his voice came to a fumbling halt as the Orcon raised one calloused hand up, his eyes only now wandering toward the Goraks own.

Kalmar spoke: "What did I tell you about bringing me information about that Arak? I do not care for him." he ushered out, his voice reverberated off the back of his throat as the tone came out in a guttural fashion. Albeit, despite his stubborn nature toward Enki, he let his hand take the notice that the Gorak extended to him, reading it over lightly as he huffed out "To the /nobles/ he would serve till his dying breath."— upon reading that, he crumpled up the sheet of paper, tossing it into the nearby flame. He paused on the dying embers of that parchment before continuing "Begin a draft, start writing when I speak." he commanded toward the Gorak who diligently sat himself down, moving to write as the Rakhon ushered out "Ningshizida-" and the scribe began writing the long formed to-be announcement.

 

[Martyr_321]

Markus leaned back in his chair, reading it over. His hands running through his golden beard. Obviously thinking of his next step. "Never have I shouted Enki's name to the public for embarassment. The Orc hates competition and now he seeks to ruin my reputation." Markus gave a sigh as he thought of an interesting sentiment. 'Oh Holvik, I guess I should have expected it though. Really should have kept my guard up more around you. But I never would have thought you to betray me like this. And where to people expect my loyalties to lie? Every Dwarf has the hope of returning to Ellador and bringing down the cursed Isldar, who ravage our Holds and take our people. But I would never just leave Regalia return to Ellador. I have kin here now. My travelling days as a blacksmith are done. And I will not be scared away by some Orc with a temper.' "Good luck Enki, but now I understand a few of the reasons you were disowned from Lok."

 

[mayino]

Holvik was sitting behind his desk, a lit garette in his mouth as he'd puff the occasional cloud smoke. Moments later one of this employee's ran in, carrying with him one of the parchments Enki had put out. As the parchment was placed down on the desk in front of Holvik he'd push his financial records aside -- starting to read the written.

As Holvik picked his garette out of his mouth he'd speak: "Alright- Mrhm" as he'd glance over the paperwork once more. "I- read only truth of Markus his incompetency, be it of legal or financial origin." as he'd then take a hit from his garette, picking it out of his mouth after doing so, then he'd go to speak as his employee interrupted asking: "<Alt-R> You have a quarrel, right?" Holvik then said: "Yea- i do- Mark. Distrust his fellow kin, only caring for himself." as he'd glance over the paperwork once more. "I wonder what will become of this." as he'd extinguish his garette on his desk, saying "<Alt-R> Send word to Peter, he has to read this." his employee, responded with a nod saying: "<Alt-R> Will do".

@CrashAtRoswell

 

[MrNoot1]

Forcus Ironfist looked upon the notice, in which he'd begin to snarl lightly. "An Orc DARES to speak I'll about my kin? Perhaps a lesson should be taught. Or a competition could work well to see who is right."

 

[Carcalla]

And just like that, they were gone, granted, a good few slipped past the Gorak collecting them, especially in the sewers, however, in most public places they were gone. Where the Gorak took them? Who knows, all that is needed to be known was that for the most part, it was gone.