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This is the story of the goblins from one of the villages of Mudhole. There are many Mudholes out there, and this is one pretty interchangeable with the rest. One evening, there was a knock at their cabin door.  The goblins are charged with taking a “magic ring of great importance” that will save hundreds of goblin lives. This could be the opportunity to do what few goblins have done before: be useful and care about other goblins. Failing that, the local chief will have plenty of bribes and/or threats to throw at them to force them into saving the world.  Will they finish their quest?  Will they remember they have a quest to begin with?  Listen in and find out!

You shall cross many sunsets, make new journeys for yourselves on metal birds across the emptiness behind the stars. All for the safety of men and women we shall never see. You are the Drakon’s Teeth, and your enemies lie in pieces before you. For every sister or brother that does not make his way back to his Father Tree, you will carry the blade. And they will weigh heavily upon you, for they will have drunk their fill of blood beforehand.

-Formal Address to 10th Levy Regiments
Taisha Mirko, Arbor-Queen of Cuyavale.

Squad leader Otho Valerius deals with the responsibilities of his recent promotion as Fort recovers in the infirmary. The hot-shots of the Aetherian Rex are finally paired with another, larger regiment that has been in-theater much longer for a series of exploratory missions.

The Cuyavale Close Infantry 1st Squad, with their bone weaponry and primitive demeanor, would seem like an ill fit for the tech-savvy spacers, and it’s up to both squads to raise teamwork and comraderie to their limits. The Imperium and the Orks alike stand ready to pounce on any weakness.

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The angels were gone. Not that they were ever particularly present here in the fog occluded black cliffs of Stensia. But there was a time where the cloud white wings navigated the spired mountains to the awe of the hardened folks below. Veonia loved them. She cared for them, knights kept at her side. She defended them as best she could.

And Veonia was gone.

There was a hole left. The Avacynian wards barely enough to support miracles let alone the angels themselves in this land of blacks and reds. And her knights of gleaming silver vanished into obscurity and decay as the assaults wouldn’t cease.
But they knew. Even in death they knew the anger of loss. The strength it gave them.

If only it was enough.
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Death is not a mystery. Not exactly. The people of Innistrad welcomed its inevitability, the idea of a freedom and reprieve. But yet they feared that fall, that curtain keeping them apart as the rest drew close.

And who can blame them dear listener? It is not I who would proclaim to have no fear of what lies in my eternal slumber, be it dream or nightmare. But that realm must be peaceful, lest the geists not try so hard to grasp onto it, and those even whose bodies are raised by ghoul callers don’t even see need to always return.

The demons and angels play with the hearts and souls of the people. But we know better. We know how to be kind. We know how to be vicious How to work for a life. How to earn our death. That’s why mortality and morality falls to us. I can only hope we are fit for it. And dear listener, I can only hope you and our adventurers deserve it.
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Excerpt from the Writings of Cathar Dragomir:

“This is it. This is the end.

Death was… Welcome. It felt wrong to view it as so. But that sleep we are promised, a peace unknown to the living was never so beloved until I had it. And now… The Hold is in ruins. The people gone or fallen. My glorious angel, slain sometime in my negligent rest. No life could I sacrifice to right the wrongs that have happened.
So I shall give it my death.

The Lord was the first of us. Furious. A rancor unlike that I had ever seen. Seething in silence, a menace that I could not put to words. When I woke with a start I knew where I must go, clawing and scrabbling from my dirt and wooden bed. It was undignified. We were undignified. But we were here. My brothers, ready to serve again. We were filled with that anger, brought back by loyalty and love. But loathe am I to say it, I am not certain that this anger is righteous.
It seems fighting back the war of time is almost as hard as the vampire. We lose more every day. And I too feel my memories and hopes fade, and my weariness emerge. That anger has become something else. Seeping, sinister. I have faith in my lord. I hope he can end the madness of that Fiend Maurer. But selfishly I hope it is soon.

For I am so very tired.

And as it stands, this stalemate… This is the end of hope.”
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