Mithrilverse Grub

Grub

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Grub is the founder of Mithril.

Grub's Post

Grub OP post

I've made some money on shitcoins here, and I've gotten rugpulled hard some times too. Speculating is fun, straight up feeding the village is not. So, I'm trying my hand on making a coin as an experiment, and making it as good and honest as possible.

My plan is to airdrop it to my frens on /biz/ and in the telegram group until I'm left with a small bag myself. I have no network, no people involved at this moment, so you guys are the first to get it.

Contract: 0xc4Caf585c2b7eAF3F61ac69b1529E79F90B15569

Chart: https://poocoin.app/tokens/0xc4caf585c2b7eaf3f61ac69b1529e79f90b15569

Liquidity burned: https://bscscan.com/token/0x20F6Ca2445695CC2d3A2137F1823E7929581c699#balances

Ownership renounced: https://bscscan.com/tx/0x5c2c19a9d639bf49e7e4e7c7ead19e60e24d249abc62fd883f0de34269e9fcc4

Transaction fees: 2% to holders, 2% to liquidity.

Telegram: https:// t . me / bscmithril

I'll sell off enough to recover my investment, then I'm going to hold the rest. My goal is for this coin to reach some stability, and maybe use it later on in a p2p roguelike thing I'm working on.

I named it MITHRIL for LOTR memes.

- Grub, 1:38 am, 9 Nov 2021

Tales of Old

We all know the tale of king grub, or at least we've heard one while sitting around a tavern in one town or another. These short stories submitted to Tales of the Mithrilverse 1 get the flavor across pretty well. The legend of King grub, a mysterious wizard that some say is the living essence of mithril itself, is shrouded in mystery.


“Mithril: a metal not unlike silver, yet lighter and stronger than steel. One must be wary, traveler - for impious hands shall, by law, always struggle to hold its priceless weight.”


Those were the last words spoken to me by a wise wizard, native of a nameless land; faceless, his mere silhouette was a myth among plebs. The name, which many dare not utter, is rumored to be Grub. His message was the only thing that remained vivid in the mind of those who met him. The legend, common in the devastated lands of Bizonia, says his figure only appears in the witching hours, at that dark and silent time when wide-eyed journeymen travel through paths unknown, guided by the timid shimmer of a torch.


If you found him, it was at a crossroads. Here, he would tell you of that precious metal that many seek to accumulate. Its value came not from its superficial properties, but from the untapped potential it possessed. Grub, in his solemn demeanor, spoke of those travelers who chose one of two paths: liberty or the shackles of waging for meager pennies.


He whispered tales of men who went off the deep end, falling into the abyss of eternal regret - pitiful prisoners jailed by their own short-sighted greed. That was the fate that awaited those who sought Mithril only for its power, while not being prepared to wield its weight.


A select few, however, managed to open the doors of perception, rising beyond the cruel temptation of instant gratification. It was them who would find their way to that land of freedom where Mithril ruled above all - not as a metal, but as an idea. As the foundation of a realm that roared for liberation.


Grub’s voice still beguiles me in the dark. My pursuit of freedom is my conviction. The journey towards the promised land is long and arduous, never lacking in fear, uncertainty or doubt. An undying land awaits as our journey unfurls, Fellowship. May Mithril guide us.


- Submitted by reddit user Coldxhound


Long did I walk the desolate planes of Biz, and hard and bitter the lessons I have learned in my travels. I have walked with great dogs who howled at great riches. I've followed the flags of memes spread over the countryside. Countless gold coins I have given in exchange for road-map promising mines of riches that know no depths, that will satisfy the greed of the most insatiable dwarfs.


How many times I have awakened to a sliver of the rising sun to find the banners gone, our leaders abandoning us, taking our gold for themselves. How many trails did me trudge, climbing up steep precipices to follow the map, only to find it leads to nowhere at all, and only bandits awaited us, ready to take what little we had left. our eyes once full of thoughts of riches now only seeing the red lines that signify death. How many times did those ancient four letters of doom pass my lips NGMI.


I wish I could tell you I gained hope as I passed this plane, but my dreams turned to cynicism, and long did I contemplate leaving this land for good. I am but a humble dwarf, trying to make my way in the world full of giants, wizards, orcs, and snakes. I walk along the trail and thing I found a companion, only to find an empty headed golem mindlessly following the commands of his master.


I remember awakening to the sliver of the daylight sun one morning, my head still aching from looking at scrolls of greed and red all through the night. I got up from my camp to embrace the crisp morning air, grab my little remains, and find someone to follow up yet another peak where the scrolls led me. This is when I heard then marching through the green valley. I saw an old man with long beard and blue cloak make his way with his walking stick, a band of merry travelers following behind his. There were elves and dwarves and hobbits making their way through.They sang a serene, gentle tune that filled the air with warmth


Far over the great mountain peaks of green,

Leave us traveling, among Pepe

What comes to red, shall remain unsaid

A flash of buys, brings the light.


Gone were the flashy flags and loud bellicose horns of previous leaders. Here walked a man with a smile, who seemed to exist in a plain where wealth was not his first concern, nor even on his mind. He watched me for a moment as he passed by, and noticing my piqued interest, gave me a knowing nod and said "Where do you travel, stranger? "I have nowhere to go." I said. "It seems I'm destined to come away empty." He chuckled. "Well friend, you won't come away empty with us." He walked over and opened up his leather pouch. He put a metal in my hand, and I gaped as I knew the metal before I even saw it. IT was a piece of mithril, dug deep in the mines deeper than the Earth's core. "Not interested. Might be fake. Find someone else to sell it to" I lied. "Well that's fine friend." He smiled. "Keep it, it's yours." "You mean-" "No strings attached." He said. "And there's more to be had. What's your name?" "Onar." I replied. "Well Onar, do you want to join us." I sighed. "I grow tired of going for riches." He laughed and replied. "Ah, riches me may receive, but I promise that you'll get something even better. Come, and you'll finally have a fellowship." Such began my journey with the strange man Grub, one who I will need to write about again soon.


- Submitted by reddit user OnatheDwarf