#knorth

[finxwrites]

Kindrie Settles In!

this one's from the vampire au! takes place just after this one. which, fun fact, is still named in my google drive "can it be? all three kids in a room together?"

Kindrie was comfortably warm and lying on something soft. This was sufficiently strange that he woke up all the way out of sheer confusion.

He was in pain, but it was a background sort of pain, a deep full-body ache rather than any stabbing warnings. He blinked up at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling. Slowly, moving only his eyes—better not to do move his neck until he’d remembered how he’d gotten here—he looked around the rest of the room. 

He was on a soft, luxurious bed, under clean white sheets. Cold fear coiled in his stomach at the realization—whatever that meant, it couldn’t be good. He was on a large bed in a spacious room, with a low bedside table to one side and a landscape painting on the opposite wall. The walls were white plaster, old-looking in a way Kindrie couldn’t really put his finger on, while the ceiling was the same dark wood as the only door. None of it was familiar. None of it was in the style of any of the Randir estates.

But, he remembered in a rush, he didn’t belong to the Randir anymore. He belonged to the Knorth.

[rattyjol]

I found a couple of old fics tonight and posted them on AO3 basically unedited:

Esk, Issa (Beginning, Movement): Imperial Radch, 800 words

My existence began in a single room. Or rather, this is where my memory record begins. My existence itself began in a laboratory some very many gates away, but this is only hardware. I, myself, did not begin until I was already in orbit, already set into place above the planet where I was destined to live and die.

The Merrikitt Hotel: Chronicles of the Kencyrath, mall AU, 1.2k

Jame stood in the empty hotel parking lot and tapped her chin. Up close, the Merrikitt Hotel was much nicer than she’d thought, dwarfed as it was by the Four Seasons’ veritable high rise next door. She contemplated the likely price for a room, weighed it against her unfortunately barren wallet, and then weighed it a second time against Rowan’s reaction if Jame came back from her lunch break still dripping mud all over The Knorth Face’s nice clean floors. Never mind that Jame thought it would lend a pleasing verisimilitude to an outdoor goods store; Rowan’s expressionless face could speak volumes when necessary. Right, showering at the Merrikitt it was.

[tanoraquisloviebracket]

Round 2, Poll O

Dave the Polar Bear (mid-sized) is one of my first—maybe the first?—of my annual family Secret Santa gifts via the World Wildlife Fund's adoption program. He’s named after David Tennant because a friend of mine at the time was a big fan of both Tennant and polar bears.��

VS

Blackie (black-finned shark, small) was recently gifted to me by a friend. You may have noticed by this point that I like sharks! Mostly named for his black fins, a little bit named for Torisen “Blackie” Knorth of the Kencyrath Chronicles.

[aeondeug]

well no actually it might be how the knorths handle their relationship with their father. they come to understand. to an extent jame can even pity him. but ganth is not forgiven. he is, at best, pitied. he is put out of his misery. and part of learning to understand and accept his existence as one thoroughly awful man who was fucked up by trauma, is being able to banish this idea of him as an invincible specter of evil and to be able to see the places where they are just like the man they fear.

[kellkie0722]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWOB Dream Pairs Knorth Snow Boots.

[444names]

precious stone and american forenames

Adumbuste Adury Akerk Akeryl Alberlard Alcite Aleval Alita Alite Almate Almbenity Almburgh Almond Altla Amelland Amesti Amonand Ananch Anaria Anarville Anassite Anatlaker Ancon Andine Angle Anite Anoodbria Anorosand Antsville Arralle Aston Athesta Athoch Augel Auker Aurquor Austa Balkgra Batio Beapeka Bearite Beause Berson Biamon Bilerise Bilis Bille Bockson Boralcity Borouge Bortwood Boste Bouge Bredo Breenolin Brent Brest Brian Briel Brilwate Briock Broce Brock Broit Brolicam Broustval Brove Buffalce Buque Burro Calend Calexan Calle Caltolle Caridge Carids Carille Casite Cassiamal Celiet Celite Celle Cenviler Chalcia Chalow Chamacite Chamen Chamford Chiand Chiseaus Chistmite Chite Choens Chria Chriale Chryl Chryste Chunsboce Cland Clandra Coliele Colilase Coliter Colul Consvery Corach Corago Corde Corowne Corthylle Cortz Coruce Coruces Cosalich Courourgh Coutinga Couver Crinelk Dachite Dacramony Dalench Dalle Dalleston Dalmon Dantateo Daverque Dettle Dolend Doluby Downs Downsidle Dumber Duming Eboutings Edoweline Eleycite Elinalle Elkgreen Emesta Euguse Evaltle Evega Evegas Evego Eventgo Everylle Fallite Fluby Fluord Folli Foreent Forfora Forntgo Forphise Forth Forthch Forthount Fortong Fortwasse Fortwood Fralley Freensa Frent Frica Fulan Fulde Galce Galcedo Galita Garite Garli Garne Ginnews Grago Graine Grand Gredo Gremadia Grentity Grony Halce Hamphia Hangton Hemoroker Hempal Hempeccia Heston Hille Hityl Hoclakro Homantam Horanke Horonia Hulan Hunzite Hunzitte Inewood Insver Irano Iredon Irvise Jacite Jadal Jadalle Jadencin Jadepio Jewine Jewporda Joriam Jorthite Kellene Killine Kimille Kimon Knora Knoracham Knorlargo Knorthe Koralcite Korne Korthock Korvise Kyanta Ladeld Lafalite Lakeport Landury Lapeo Lapora Larledo Lasse Lauguste Lazulaha Lazulank Lazuld Lejoll Linnatero Liste Litenne Lomem Lowns Machatio Malent Malmonyx Marlo Marre Marro Mcage Mcalown Mentarro Merisvill Mesta Meste Mesto Meston Michate Midson Millywood Minsvise Mintgo Mival Monkewood Murgh Murha Murham Murman Murres Napeo Narderia Nelders Newich Newood Newyon Norfre Nortlesta Noxvine Oakeccite Oakells Oaklas Obsimecon Obsita Obsitery Okenapis Oklancit Olles Olomette Olontone Olumity Omite Omorpem Onton Opaledo Opalexand Opaudenta Opazuland Opazulum Orago Oralo Orfrite Orocedind Orron Ortwalbus Ortwase Palcite Paliteo Paltlans Pander Parlsbus Parris Pazuls Peach Pearginet Pecosach Pekano Pensvelis Periana Phena Phenda Phills Phingto Phinsvill Phirgh Phite Phylle Phyral Phyria Pidge Pingtock Piscolans Pland Plaville Poluoite Pomesta Pominny Pompalite Poridge Porle Porne Porthesto Porthyra Prident Pridlanta Pueblot Pusey Puste Pustite Pyrago Pyrans Randise Ranfrette Reend Rempton Riamonve Riampe Rianke Rilansit Rings Rinte Rorne Rorton Rouscortz Ruthon Rutio Rutit Sacharlan Sadeim Saderque Sairvise Salenath Salmdayen Sanate Sander Sandertz Sandis Sandranta Santarnt Santasvis Sante Santer Santon Seacite Serquitt Sille Simbean Sprock Stacis Staculle Stasch Stone Sundurfor Sunnewood Sunsine Sunta Surhate Surphyl Surpria Surysont Syentaton Syettero Syranco Tacha Tanchite Teridiege Toparids Toparlite Topaurgo Toulitem Tourborle Tourris Touthel Triand Tridow Tulan Turfield Turginio Turhascis Turret Turyst Valey Valite Vichand Viderk Ville Villevery Viscon Wargomonk Watock Welant Welinne Wesan Wesnolk Westa Westaanst Westanati Weste Weston Wicampa Wichryl Wileacine Wineycite Wiseeston Woodbron Yonoranna Zoise

[tanoraqui]

and if you want a happy ending...

A little while after that, on the outside edge of the world Rathilien at the last fading door between it and Elsewhere, two siblings and a cousin ran up, panting, and fell into fierce debate.

“It’s shut fast.”

“It’s locked?”

“Are really surprised?”

“No. Can’t you just break it? Or pick it?”

“I’m as spent as the two of you. And I don’t have my lock picks.”

“You still have claws.”

“They’re not as good as a proper set of picks! Anyway, I said it’s shut, not locked—I can’t pick a barred door.”

White-haired Preservation-who-wasn’t-anymore leaned past his bickering cousins to knock on the door.

“Hello?” he called. “May we come in? It’s getting rather unstable out here.”

Not-quite-Destruction-anymore and Creation-no-longer both looked nervously over their shoulders, at the reality that really wasn’t and at the increasingly small patch of doorstep on which they stood.

Jame entirely gave up the pretense of mythology, and started hammering on the door. “Ragga, Tishoo, Burnt Man, Eaten One!” she hollered. “We promise not to break anything this time, just let us in! Granny Sits-by-the-Fire! Gorgo, you owe me—and you too, Suwaeton, and all your Divine Order! Dalis-Sar, Heliot, Abarraden! Kroaky or whatever your name is, Lady Professionate, Lord Artifice, Lord Mercer! Pathfinder, please—ah!"

She yelped because she was suddenly falling, not backwards into void but forwards into the open door. Torisen caught her around the waist before she went flat on her face before the one who had opened it—who was, indeed, Pathfinder, the pale, bedraggled, eternally candlelit old man who was patron of the Tai-Tastigonian Guides' Guild and the latest manifestation of Hope.

"Unlike some of you, I cannot not answer," he was calling warmly over his shoulder, to an indistinct but bickering crowd of gods and god-adjacents. Though he didn't shift from where he stood, blocking most of the doorway.

"Well met," Torisen said politely, before his sister could consider slipping in like a stray cat. She elbowed him in the ribs as she wiggled out of his grasp, because she hadn't seriously been considering it. 

"May we come back in?" Torisen repeated, with some measure of a Highlord's dignity remaining. "We seek only to rejoin our people. If it is any concern, we've left all of our power behind, eons back."

Mother Ragga pushed her way in besides Pathfinder.

"Girlie's still got claws," she said, jutting her earth-ruddy head toward Jame. "And your foolish people will rush to give back all they can, the second they see you." Toward Kindrie, she added, "They're halfway to giving it to your lady as it is."

"Er," said Kindrie. A moment ago, he'd been anxious about the void of utter nothingness nipping at their heels. It wasn't much better to consider Kirien's likely reaction to being hassled by god-hungry priests. 

"Many people have claws," said Torisen, as he once might have said, Everyone has dreams, but better. Even after everything, Jame fought the urge to hug him with fierce pride and never let go—both could wait until later.

"We will take great care," she swore. "Honor break me, darkness try again to take me—c'mon Mother Ragga, you know we're good for it."

Torisen and Kindrie both echoed her oath.

Rathilien debated, as the Tyr-RIdan clustered ever more tightly together on the fading doorstep, last remnant of the parasitic shadows that the Kencyrath had fought for so long. A familiar, supportive quonk! quonk! rose above the tumult, finally cut through by Granny Sits-by-the-Fire's exasperated, "They've made a place for themselves here, same as the rest of us. Just let them in."

Pathfinder smiled broadly and stepped aside, swinging the door so swiftly wide that all three Knorths tripped over the threshhold—

—and through into the last particularly weak point in the walls between worlds, which just so happened to be the Great Hall of death banners—most faded or burnt, but a few souls still hung on—at the heart of the royal keep of Gothregor.

Sentences Saturday

@thelordofgifs tagged me to share "some sentences" from a WIP (side note: I love how far this has devolved from neat tag memes like "Five-Sentence Friday" or even "WIP Wednesday). As it so happens, I spent yesterday and today writing a short little thing for the Chronicles of the Kencyrath, so here it is in full! Tagging @finxwrites, @smallblueandloud and @words-writ-in-starlight to go next if you want :)

---

Smothering, twisting darkness swirled around them in a dancing duel with silver-pale weirding mist, and the mist was winning. Where it cleared away the taint and then itself, it revealed a silent battlefield—exhausted, watching the center where the Tyr-Ridan stood, the living all still alive for now and the dead all staying dead at last. Rathilien was saved. Perimal Darkling was destroyed.

Yet darkness still loomed in front of them, utter, absolute Darkness. Ahead and behind. The ground had stopped shaking—Mother Ragga stood watching with the rest, not far away. But something still shifted unsteadily beneath Jame’s feet. Some loose thread—loose steering rope, loose fate whipping in the winds of history—was left untied.

"We have to go back." Her lips were numb with the realization. "We have to go back and start it all."

Kindrie shouted, a wordless rathorn cry of grief beyond endurance. He turned away and strode to where Kirien stood, not far behind them (or maybe distance hadn't mattered in…about as long as time hadn’t mattered).

He took her in his arms and kissed her fiercely, then pressed their foreheads gently together. The serpent cloak on his shoulders wrapped around them both.

Jame looked away to give them their privacy.

The final battlefield was full of friends and loved ones, kith and kin, more alive than she would have expected. Timmon and Gorbel were leaning heavily on one another, as were Trishien and Dianthe of Danior, all surrounded by Kendar of a melange of houses. Randiroc’s jewel-jaws were feasting on his corpse, which was fair. A few steps away, Death’s-head had started eating the Dark Judge’s corpse, which would probably give him indigestion. Before Ashe had finally gone still with the rest of the haunts, she’d sat back to back with Harn, who was gritting his teeth over a mangled forearm while Sheth, kneeling beside them, tore and tied his black coat into a hasty tourniquet.

The Kencyr had gathered closest to their lords and lady, but they were far from alone on the field. Gran Cyd bent a bloody-speared Chingetai into a passionate kiss and showed no sign of stopping. Wolvers began to howl, a rippling harmony of triumph tinged with mourning. An assortment of Tai-tastigonian gods, Bashti ancestors and other deities still ran amok, mopping up shadows with spears, fire, frying pans and odder weapons, egged on by Old Man Tishoo soaring above. Through the howling chorus, Jame heard a distinct quonk! Further yet, Arribek sen Tenzi was already stalking around, rallying his hillmen for whatever came next.

He wasn’t the only one. Countless people looked back at Jame and in their eyes she could see that one word from her, the slightest nod, and despite their wounds, exhaustion, and dawning sense of relief, they would stand and follow unflinchingly into the darkness. Brier was already getting to her feet, with blood coating her side and a mulish set to her chin. Yce was glaring past Jame, past Tori, straight into the heart of Perimal Darkling, teeth bared and legs coiled to pounce on the enemy that still hadn’t fully vacated her territory.

Kindrie let go of Kirien at last, and she of him. As he walked back to his cousins, the serpentine Cloak pressed closer and closer to his skin until it sank in completely, leaving only a ghost of snakes’ heads at his shoulders. As it faded, Kindrie shone brighter and brighter, with a white light so pure that it burned Jame’s eyes.

She turned away, and dropped the ivory Knife from her right hand. It disappeared into the shadows curling around her feet and never landed; in its place her claws slid out, longer and sharper and more natural-feeling than ever before. Each would be deadly with only a scratch. 

As usual, Torisen was the last to join them. He hasn’t reacted at all to Jame’s words; his head was bowed over the Book still open in his hands, his shoulders hunched.

With a deep breath, he straightened. The Book flared and fell into ashes in his hands. The fire licked down the bonds that tied the Knorth to their lord, and the Kencyrath to their Highlord, and set them all loose before any could be drawn into the Darkness before the three of them. Pure Creation remained, unbound, and the Kenthiar on his neck blazed as brightly silver as his open eyes.

Jame snapped her few bonds with a flick of her wrist, as easy as breathing for Destruction incarnate. With her other hand, she turned her claws carefully away one last time as she took her brother’s scarred hand, and leaned her shoulder against his. Her odd, black-purple glow was dark against his silver, though still bright against the Darkness.

On her other side, Preservation gripped the loose sleeve of her d’hen, just in case the road was rough.

And so the three faces of the Kencyr god, Torrigien, Regonereth and Argentiel, walked out of Rathilien and into the Darkness beyond worlds, beyond time.

A little while later and thirty thousand years earlier, the Three-Faced god bound together the Kendar, the Arrin-ken, the in-between race that would be known as Highborn, and the short gray folk who had always called themselves Builders, and charged them to fight the purest malevolence of entropy until it was defeated—and then upon its defeat, to the stupefaction of many on a small, divinity-packed world far down the Chain of Creation, released them all at last.

[upknorth]

Only sky scrapers here are the trees. 

Camp vibes in Yellowknife, North West Territories shot by @iamkeefe Shop the gear: www.upknorth.com/shop-the-gear

[morven]

"I seldom do [know what I've done]. But I do it anyway. This is who I am, Brier Iron-thorn. Remember that."

—Jame

[akaanir-of-starfleet]

somewhere in the soulscape offscreen:shade: so...i don't know if you remember but i...definitely contributed to your childhood torment a few times...at LEAST passively...kindrie: don’t worry about it. welcome to the club [passes her a I Was Personally Victimized By Rawneth Randir AndAll I Got Was A Lousy T-Shirt shirt]kindrie: kirien suggested i make these. randiroc and tori have them too. i'll give jame hers laterfurther offscreen (across the river): holly; who definitely wanted to go when tori called that people should come help him clean up nowbut harn glared at him Really Expressively so only the proper knorth people went: so....do you think we can let Jame's cat out of hte closet yet? because the scratching and yowling finally stopped and that actually makes me /more/ nervous(apologies to holly for shuffling him to the tags in 2 separate scenes here; i love him but he just doesn't fit in the middle of the drama)(i'm sure he could if he needed to but lets be real he's happier this way)just barely offscreen: several dozen knorth kendar shifting from panic mode to ‘holy shit are they finally going to kiss’ mode (via @tanoraqui)

Prompt: Jame/Tori, someone in the scene is tied to a chair

send in a character/pairing and a prompt, and I’ll write a short fic!

“So,” Torisen said quietly, crouched before his sister. Jame was unconscious, blood running down her face and matting the unbound curls of her hair as it dried, making her sharp features and stark pallor ghoulish. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths beneath her shirt, but her jacket had been taken, her belt, every pocket emptied, even her hair taken down and picked through, and her hands and feet were bound to the heavy chair with wire.

Rawneth’s people, sent to catch themselves a Nemesis, had done their work well.

Torisen had been sternly informed, in no uncertain terms, that looking at her was all he was permitted–if he touched her, even to check her pulse, he would die, and so would she. There was a sword at the back of his neck, the point resting on the skin above his collar and ready to be shoved through flesh and bone if he tried to disobey.

Tori took a breath, and felt a twin heartbeat in his own chest. It was like Jame’s hands were curled around his shoulders, her cheek pressed to his, and her voice whispering in his ear.

“Brother,” she said, not gently. “Get up and walk.”

Then he rose, slowly, smoothly, hands up to show that he meant no harm, to his feet, and turned to the Randir Matriarch.

“So,” he repeated, the world around him retreating slowly to the calm beat of his blood in his veins, and the taste of Jame’s blood in the air. Underfoot, far below, he could feel the Priest’s College, that whirlpool being drawn in, and in, and in.

And all around him, as far as he could feel, was life.

“My lady Rawneth,” Torisen said, as the calm ebbed away and power began to rush into the void. “Do tell me how you hoped that this negotiation would go.”

[incorrectkencyrath]

Jame: I could always rob a bank for you.

Tori: Rob a bank--why the hell would you want to do that?

Jame: I was just offering. Jeez.

[elucubrare]

very hashtag nicheposts but why does P.C. Hodgell bother having a map? especially one that looks like this: 

this helps literally nothing. and that's fine because part of the joy of this series is that if you stop to think about it for more than half a second your brain explodes from trying to deal with too many inconsistencies and really dumb plot details 

(Jame rides a carnivorous armored unicorn that can turn into a person! she's destined to save or destroy the universe! she's bonded to a blind snow leopard! she's the sacred husband of a river goddess!)

 and it's so much easier to repeat "time and distance are different in the Riverlands" as a mantra to preserve your sanity if you don't have a map  

[aethanknorthe]

I’m accepting all the Blessings that GOD has in store for Me. . . — Æ

[aeondeug]

Still playing my catchup game here. This is my poem for the “Waiting” prompt. I decided to do another Brenrulan piece for Kencyrath! Because if anyone has had to wait for her lover it’s been poor Brenwyr:

The hours seem long don't they? They are. It's been decades now though, so what are a few more hours, (a few more days) in the grand scheme of things. Not much. Shouldn't we be grateful? But it's been days. Days, days days hour after hour they've kept her, they've been keeping her they have for hours for days for weeks for months for years they've been keeping her they have they have when they've no right to it, no right to it No Right To It But he is the Highlord isn't he? He is, he is and you are but a lady, but a lady matriarch of Iron or no but a lady just a lady But he's no right to it to her to her no not even the Knorth boy the Knorth brat neither of them have the right no, not even a little not even, no, no, NO A day more is a fine time to wait for something few have the chance for in all their lives and never shall. Trinity knows that you haven't until now. And that's the rub, that's problem. It is, it is, it is the problem of it of this and who does he think he is and what does he know what does he know? These are not his matters. These are not. These are not. These are not. The Women's World is a closed island full of inmates with no rights of their own who must dance at the delight of Lords. But that should not be, should not be Should. Not. No. It is yours, she is ours we knew her best, we did. The match was made, the matched had lasted The Match Saved Us It did. She did. Aerulan. Five hours is too long, five days is too long, five years is too long, five minutes is too long, five seconds is too long. Too. Long. For you. For us. For Aerulan, for her. Curse the boy, damn the boy. Sham of a man, shame of a Highlord. Rend him to shreds, to bits, to bits. Reveal his weakness, force him forward for keeping what is not his, for what he's no right to. Rent asunder, body and soul, Do it. Make it so. please it's been too long. too long Long. Too. Long.

[kellkie0722]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWOB Dream Pairs Knorth Snow Boots.

[444names]

drow dictionary (forgotten realms) + dark seducer names from tes

Abbcreed Abbigglace Abbust Acklegong Alerbbuk Alesst Alshesel Althin Aluːvɛ Ambil Amoneizzt Ampare Amplered Amplinnand Amsharzdiay Amutiort Andess Ansinno Anspin Appande Aragivvion Arapeloc Arnicid Artur Assia Autheme Banderwere Bashition Bathir Bathrastes Baumal Baunces Baunt Becutchis Belanss Belaress Belend Belitowlent Beliyitht Belve Blash Bleakazard Braaderm Briestudith Bring Bringlian Brize Brogan Broradea Brown Cadar Cadarr Calin Calsh Calth Cancon Carant Cargthin Cather Chath Chatrinue Chelacered Cless Coinue Comilesh Comma Comparl Comper Compet Comrae Conal Coneshron Coness Congift Conoweeti Conqu Conthay Cosess Coungean Covelliar Covers Credrat Creseleng Cress Cuthres Cynicks Cynor Daladeam Darditil Deent Deird Deney Dents Derattless Dicie Dismatan Ditese Dobsurl Domin Domise Dommor Doodgem Doolhyrre Dossri Dostend Dowless Draim Draretil Drierie Drint Drogyn Dromplest Drormas Drorr Drort Dylalsem Eireamot Ellaszarn Ellplamot Encom Eniled Entith Entoromen Essustra Eventlint Excreal Execk Execri Executh Expegoame Facks Faelbarn Faelick Favatar Femea Fillaxlest Finguice Finkinge Firancep Fooddeand Forreane Fring Fringue Frinvold Fronce Frood Fulth Gancid Gicangth Giguala Goalin Goamplate Goblost Goblustred Goddelk Godge Golons Gooddeo Gooln Grathip Greelkynow Grord Guing Gumysin Guthiss Haadind Haost Hareeth Hendyn Higualing Hinsa Hinth Hipparontor Histally Holar Hopegolark Hopet Hopul Hosess Humalraten Humat Humatalinde Humatera Hurean Ibellinvin Ilegs Ilitchind Inagro Iname Ingar Inings Inuing Iraith Ishelf Issuaran Ithares Ithiedgen Ixjokh Ixjokhare Ixjour Jansinued Jared Jartumeng Jawarvaim Jesterin Kerbbus Khaade Khave Knorbbass Knores Knorth Kulggle Kyonow Kyorter Kyounware Landick Laric Leastera Lillin Linseme Lisheiviont Listem Lives Livvint Lliaynound Lowle Lullay Luthartans Luːvɛ Madaragiay Mader Maght Magra Magree Malart Malsh Maluen Meath Mendicon Mentingend Ments Mesturn Mighiduser Minsa Miscon Mraife Mrate Nafaer Nagiguse Namourp Neirditily Neirs Neithazake Nelin Nercall Nicarms Nikalla Noalitimaga Noced Nonce Nordied Nowleal Oberr Oblosed Oftemen Olshapar Oncon Onestre Onqued Onquet Opege Opene Orkey Orown Ourer Oursed Oxymo Pelarge Phase Pheballith Phing Phlagoliyit Phlaspe Phlayn Phout Phroy Phyrr Phyrreep Pidersel Plack Ponsic Poperie Popull Priddelarge Pring Priouss Progglulth Pyrrefunin Qeste Qualaera Quarm Quarn Quedithal Queet Querar Querim Ragictor Ragle Ralkyn Ranth Ratea Rathin Rayzar Reelacepts Rivisicar Ruser Saccost Scappide Sedie Selfronsinn Semestried Serieth Setion Shaless Shargui Shaszarn Sheel Sheme Shind Shinyth Shipper Shreetele Shrone Skola Snanythalat Someene Somple Sompluse Speam Sphyrrl Spiest Spiraven Straccove Stravalis Streff Strenthre Strocea Strocied Stroy Stuallin Sualtries Suicou Sunho Surideizzt Swerer Tarcass Thareent Tharer Thaumy Thean Theaspie Theirds Themonind Themysinn Thericack Thersen Thige Thint Thrath Thron Tokaz Traadeo Tradvilhale Traell Treel Treferilot Trested Triarlarn Trigh Trimorese Trized Tronemeng Trongither Typelf Udinced Udiver Ulfiestrion Ulggless Uncou Undyn Upope Upown Urdess Uself Uselk Usell Useme Usenth Ustitch Ustut Velkyour Ventege Vento Vents Vereepts Vilvatrer Vinspirs Waely Warern Wargento Warnided Watind Wayat Wearl Wenememy Werate Weretiounte Wherouting Whiess Whiirrlarre Whincont Wholiness Wiless Winslatht Wisdos Wisherse Wishred Wisoce Wordied Woreen Woren Workno Wunwared Xitch Xorning Yaitions Yattioney Yords Yorril Yortht Yound Zeduk Zhaer Zhart