This Event is Brought to You by the Letter "D"

A

Anonymous

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Summary: Daedras, discouraging delving into their den, develop disproportionate deluges of denizens that deny dark daemons. Driders, drilling deep down, discuss decisions disconcerting to dead dwarven dwellings. Do Dryads, dwindled from droves, discover dominion of distant days?

Do you dare discover the danger?
 
Durst I determine the drift of this delphic dispatch dissembling drollery?

Durst I? DURST I?!

(dizzies and drops)
 
d'oh
 
Damn, discouraging description. Don't darken our dreams with details of doom!
 
Dammit, daunting distances deter a decidedly due de-absencing of my dumbass. Don't depend on my daring do to declare the day done.
 
Duh, a diviner of destinies, dressed dutifully as a diplomate, doesn't dare to disseminate the drafts of Dragon's dentures directed Daedra-wards.

Defenders of the downtrodden (despite damning Dalkani) drudge dutifully down to doomed dungeons. Dark and dank, (not dissimilar to Drae), the dens of dispatched dwarves' don't discourage digging for disjected doubloons. Downward I declare! Death doesn't dilly-dally, I demand to drive my daggers dull on droves of depraved disputants!

(Dorks. :p )
 
Dude.
 
Dumstruck
 
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