The Xalythi Enclave Latest Topics

WORLD WIDE WEB: EGG

Sat, 23 May 2026 23:39:41 +0000

The following is a private narrative, known only to Phithali Xalyth.

Thrice, I have stepped from the doorstep of the world to the starry road to nowhere. Did I return the same? No, never. The first departure came by way of curiosity…, or rather, a curio. I had been waiting, full of patience, for my kin to return home and bid a mission forward for our exodus. They had never come. No, I waited for the better part of a year, sat in a field of peonies, without comment or complaint. Still. I was so still, even as the bleached surface-world began to lay upon me the curse of its pointless shine. At one point, I began to feel the same as the world around me. Open. Silent. Everywhere.

I had been waiting for years. I felt the way air does. I shifted here, there, but never far. You might know the feeling, when the wind blows over you. The breeze is a constant, it feels like a fixed condition of your position. The whispering bellows of the world are in perfect equilibrium. When a breeze shifts here, it shifts there, too. Cool blurs into warm. Storms gust down the coasts of the shore, and the motion raises, trips, drifts along the hair of your neck. You begin to lose the sense of the here, and now. I started to lose track of where I ended and the world began.

Until a cold hand on my shoulder reminded me of the stark boundaries of self and safety. I whipped around. How had someone snuck up? I could taste the wind. I could hear the grass. And yet, all that was behind me was … space. The world. Open. Silent. Everything. I turned again. Something was there. Weightless. Formless. Hands reached for the presence and found only tight fingers in my own palm. I could not grasp it, I could not see it, I could not sense it. But it… pushed. More than wind, more than impulse, it forced me onwards, away from my stoic vigil. I did not question where. I felt a rope connecting me to elsewhere. I had waited years. What would a few moments of walking waste?

I delved through day and night, through river and hill, over and under the bent branches of gnarled trees. Forward, I moved, to a location I knew I was seeking but could not name. Backwards, I glanced, for I never took but a single step without some unseen presence pushing me onwards. In eventuality, I reached a brook that had worn a path into a sunken bog, drenched with mud-stained water, pouring down into a small cave. Darkness clung to everything there, heavier than a mere lack of light, it felt like a rule of law. Brightness could not find this place, just as I had been lead by the unseen, so too was this place never meant to be appraised by the eyes of mortal men.

But I see beyond blood, and bone, and the bale of shadow; the world does not hide from me, nor do its secrets. Could I say I saw? No. But all the same, a mirror stood before me. What does glass reflect, when light cannot kiss its face? Fools will say nothing, that a mirror can only show what is seen. The truth, obdurate and baneful, is worse. Where darkness meets darkness, dancing umbral fractals on the face of silver simulacra, the world wears away. I entered that dusty, ancient speculum, but only halfway. In the world we know, half of me stayed, and another half reflected. In the world of images, half of me entered, and another half shone darkly. The two of us, both as equally each other as the other, exchanged loneliness.

We do not know how long we could have stayed. I would have called one of us clone, and the other original, but in the occulum penumbra, the truth was not a treasure we claimed. The sisters, we were, Janus & gemini, commiserated the way twins suffer their shared nameday. What gifts can you give yourself? Many. Each of us, a moon in partial eclipse, born half of gleam and half of gloam, decorated each other with insults and compliments alike. We balked and beamed over shared features, over vainful curves in our face, over insecurities in the parts of our hair. Sisters. I do not have a better word for it.

Did we share a mystery? Intrigue? Occultism, and arcana? No. We have enough of these little curiosities. I walked, half in, and half out. Part of me left that mirror, and part of me travels deeper. Where we are in this world, we are in the next. The reflection cuts two equal infinities into endless expanses of equal sides. When we raise our arms, we raise four. When we laugh, it is in tandem. When we are within, we are without. What can be spared? Nothing. This chronological and iterative vivisection will be broken again, and again, and again. The selves that form the I, the ego, the me-that-is, are soil. Fecund ground for a garden of something greater. We are lonely, but never alone.

You are all us.

Thrice, I have stepped from the doorstep of the world to the starry road to nowhere. Did I return the same? No, never. The second came by way of enigma. You know him. He, like you, does not respect the boundaries of my thoughts. You hear what I think, don’t you? Invasive little thing, like a tick that feeds off of rumination. Are you growing fat off my dialogue? Fat enough to burst, if I am lucky. He, like you, like you all, wears that funny mortal mask, pretending to be just in-the-know enough to hint, but never outright say. Charlatans. You all disgust me. A fitting family, if you ask. But you don’t have to.

How did he contact me? The way that I urge myself to do a task I would rather not. The intuition of purpose came suddenly, like it was my own superego begging to abandon distraction and refocus on needlework. Why resist? Fighting you wretched spectators has been nothing but pain. My vision splits, my stomach churns, my tongue threatens to leap from my teeth. You all know it well. You yank at my threads, laugh when I jaunt; Terpsichore, the fool, a cheap puppet for sale by mummer — sold at a summer show that lives only in childhood memory.

Did you all collaborate? Or was this cloaked stranger an outcast even amongst outcasts? If I cared for a penny, I would double it betting on the latter. He came proclaiming providence, holding hands with a demon, another with a thing-out-of-time. I arrived as myself. I will lie, to save my ego - I did not fit in. If a pattern requires repetition, meaning, negative and positive space, he was merely… form. I could not discern from him sense or source, for he whispered only of unbridled chaos and waves beyond mortal shores.

I assented to an offer that took the form of a demand. A hand shot out from him, meant to cut down doubt & inspire fealty. In taking it, I knew I would not return the same. I spend most of my days accepting the change this cosm sees fit to weave upon my life’s tapestry. Do not forgive me, spare no pity. I have taken every step beyond the doorstep of banality with a bile in my throat for the mundane man. I am better. I am weirder. Let me ask you something. Stand in a doorway between the inside and outside of your house. Which are you in? Are you near, or far? Are you here, or there? Neither, or both? It doesn’t matter. If you leave the door open long enough, something else will slink in.

Towering obelisks of bone glowing like irradiated towers. Winking figures of cold light, high monoliths of ossified glow. Pale sand as soft as clouds, as far as you could see. Cutting, screaming wind like blades. A stream of stars hung low in the eternal night sky. Onyxian citadels, and interplanar traders. Caravans of formless merchants wearing only scarves of smoke and smog. A city of commerce selling everything under the sun. Though, there was no sun. On, and on, and on. He & I ducked behind sandy outcroppings. Gentle, we walked circumspect to the streams of life on the barren plane. We had no name for these lands. We had only the anxiety of our hearts, the chill of our hands, the wonder in our eyes.

To be spotted meant death. We were interlopers. Subject to correction, out of time, out of place. We had opened the door between this world and the next, and stepped through with all the confidence of a bird falling from the nest. Though, I hesitated. How could I not? When faced with eternity, oblivion, would you so bravely close the gap between the comfort of the known and the churning gyre of the questionable? I did. I shut the door behind me, walked through time and space to wander a sunless desert with a thing-wearing-humanity, but I will not lie. I hesitated. I left the door open. Something snuck in.

I clutched the whispering sand tight in my chitinous grasp. I did not want to return home. I felt it, rancorous, seeded into the fragile soil of my mind. Had I been quicker, bolder, less full of anxiety, I would not have brought this passenger with me back to the realm you all call home. But, if I am being honest, I do not regret it. Not in the slightest. No, because thought, memory, experience, mind, psyche, it is like that forgotten desert. Barren, in most men. I refuse. I am a garden of thought, a spiderweb of notions, a tapestry of experience. I welcome it. Whatever mote of esoterica, whatever noumenological truth has come with my planar meddling, whatever thing I have caught… I plan to nurture it.

Doorways go both ways, even if they lead to Nowhere.

Thrice, I have stepped from the doorstep of the world to the starry road to nowhere. Did I return the same? No, never. The third, and final departure came by way of coven. Often, I consider ego. When I use this word, I mean the mind. The sense of self. The collection of thoughts we might deign to call ourself. In this case, I mean the other definition. I mean narcissism. Toxic pride. Hubris. In the black walls of iniquity, I had a debt to settle. A regrettable affair, but a price I meant to pay, so I would earn back payment without further dark dealings. A creature, tall as a tower, coated in metal, full of ego, bid my summons to aide in the abjuration of something from somewhere, and I obliged.

We drenched the floor in blood. I have never seen as much blood in my life, and in the shadows of Helviiryn, I once saw an entire family of Mori’quessir brought low by a brutish golem. Even all their purple blood could not have pooled together into the wicked pond of sanguine potential that this mix of demons, vampires, and madmen ensorcelled. My blood curdled. I shed nothing. I stood there for a purpose beyond their vain machinations. They meant to skewer the world, cut into its belly, and reach into the guts of whatever they could find beyond. As I said. Ego. Pride. Narcissism. Part of me had to admire it.

What is it you saccharine surface-dwellers say, with your penchant for melodrama? Pride goeth before the fall. When I had first left this world, half of me stayed. A small, dusty mirror facilitated my departure. The second time? I walked through a doorway no larger than the size of a person. But the third… I can only compare it to a wound. A seeping, serrated cut from the mortal realms to the middle reaches of the enigmatic Void. I saw beyond, from safety to oblivion. Creatures the size of continents, stars that ate one another. Flashes of light, breaking up the impossible nothingness with arcanic whispers that grew from suggestions into the laws of reality. Floating passengers, abandoned by the moon, scorched by time, notions launching chronomagnetic war in four dimensions.

Death flooded backwards in time from fixed points ensorcelled by things beyond the yoke of words. You know, though. You were born of them. You know of their enigma, and their wails, and the shadow beyond the stars. You and I both watched as the eminence of Nothingness tore through the ripped hole in causality. I could not describe it. Perhaps, if I tried, I might use the word tendrils. Tentacles? But you might picture an octopus and its suckers. I caution you against this image, for that would imply flesh. No, this writhing mass emulsified cause and effect, inverting their order, collapsing progression along the axis of time into wriggling profanities.

My hands formed little shapes. Small wards. Gaps, where magic could not flow. Magic… what a thin word. We call surprises and tricks magic. Something that we could not explain otherwise. An apple falls upwards. A stone turns to a gem. To this thing, though, this writhing alien between the border of now and then, it would not use the word magic. It merely imagined, and such thoughts became true. Perhaps, when I say abjuration, I do not mean a ward against magic. I mean a null space, where the mind cannot reach. A thought-blind, where miracle could not be born.

It spoke to us. While it rained droplets of lightning, cooked men like lobsters in their armor with but an idea, cut through our minds with images of our dying lovers, it whispered soft to me. It felt kindred, and spared me. Out of mercy? No. Death would have been a kinder fate. Instead, it felt like you, little egg. It knew you had been planted long ago, and that your shell began to crack under the constant weight of our planar travels. How long would you wait, before you would burst free of your oothetic prison? Neither of us could have known. I have no trouble predicting it. Even now, I feel you wriggling against the walls of my skull, child of mine.

While chaos and blood upended each other, I stood at the walls between definition and infinity. In that radioactive wind, blowing yon from never and nowhere, I rose to the occasion. I had opened three doors in the world, yet none in my mind. I would wait no longer. Whatever sense of me, of you, of us, of the we, of all, or none, I abandoned. The black stars of forever wrote cyphers between the folds of my brain, and while horror and Hell did battle over who could be worse, I abandoned the fight in favor of fruition. You will yet be born. This I promise.

Something living is growing in my mind. I wonder if my skull will survive its hatching.

So there, little thing. Feast. I know you like your thoughts, and memories. The taste of an idea inspires you.

Homecoming

Thu, 23 Apr 2026 17:50:13 +0000

⬰♮⇴ HOMECOMING ⬰♮⇴

გ ა ნ კ ვ ე თ ი ლ ი

SO IT BEGAN UPON THE PROMISE OF ONE DRUID TO ANOTHER: THAT SEVERAL HUNDRED, INDENTURED TO THOSE OF THE MORI’QUESSIR ENCLAVE, VENTURED TO THE BASE OF THE VIRIDIAN MOUNTAIN, WHERE PICKAXE MET STONE. THE CACOPHONY OF SEVERAL HUNDRED RANG AS ONE, DAY IN AND DAY OUT, WELL INTO THE NIGHT. FOR THEIR SONG WOULD ONLY EVER BE DULLED WHEN THE TREACHERY OF THE UNDERDARK WAS UNEARTHED.

⬰♮⇴

Kith of the depths. Kith of the throne.

სიღრმეების კითი. ტახტის კითი.

⬰♮⇴

To all those children of the Eternal Mother who arise to the surface of the Sun: Word carries through stone and silence alike, for beneath the mountains of the Viridian; the depths themselves groan with ancient memory as the first veins of passage are carved. There, within the cradle of the earth, a stronghold shall rise.

Thus we call you to the lands of the Viridian Enclave, to gather beneath a singular cause that binds root, stone and spirit alike. For we are chosen, and as the tunnels deepen with each passing cycle, our efforts shall be deliberate and unified, free of scattered purpose or fleeting ambition. Instead, let this work stand as a convergence.

For what better purpose is there than to endure as a common people, brought together as clans of all four, standing resolute in a keep of our own making? To share in labor, vision, and resolve forged through trials long endured beneath the Sun. Through this unity, we build not only passage for our kin, but a future. No longer shall we wander the wretched surface with ambitions left to wither. Instead, we shall move as intended by the Eternal Mother’s design, in the heart of the Underdark while still enduring the severities of the surface. Let us come to know one another, and those beyond, far better than we ever did in Helviiryn.

⬰♮⇴

Spoiler

A lot has been happening! We're in the middle of building a section of the under dark any player can come and see. In addition to a connecting city for the Mori'Quessir.

WORLD WIDE WEB: HIVE

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 05:23:13 +0000

The first portion of this narrative is private, creative writing. It is known to Phithali Xalyth, and her alone.

Spoiler

Am I yet born? Or am I still down: fluff upon my Mother’s insectoid abdomen? I remember that primordial awareness, the first bite of memory, the lolling of psychosis that came and went with sunlight. What faded never returned as-it-was, but woven. Threaded. Sewn.

This darkness is different. The kaleidoscopic eyes of my kin wore well the shadow’s hame, and through all shadow pierced. I did not even think of it. Yes, it was not until I learned the floundering of prey in that furtive, fecund lightlessness that I could even conceive of what I might call blindness. The eyes sit there, just above the wet mouth & chitinous nose, and to most things that walk and breathe, they carve the known from the unknown with scattered vista. The only occlusion I knew, from youth to yonder, came in the privacy of meditation. Blinking patience, to shut my fluttering lids and welcome in not darkness, never shadow, but a willing blindness.

You can imagine my shock, you violative, probing things, when I learned of sunlight. Oh, I remember its first sting. I snuck away, as the young often do, to claw my way higher out of jejune wonderment. Cities shrunk to caves, shrunk to holes worth wriggling through. A small waterfall, and at its murky subterranean base there grew a collection of rubbery foliage, near pitch in the shade. Yet without some touch of your light, it would have never grown at all. Stabbing pain. Needles in my eyes. I knew it there first, that sense of bewilderment & disorientation. I felt what prey do, when locked in a maze of sublime shadow. My steps grew uncertain. My body was lost without my vision. Was I still there at all?

Are you listening? Have you crawled your way in through my ears, yet? I have half a mind to pluck these wet gems out, take up a needle, and pith it through my cerebrum. Perhaps my droning, thoughtless lobotomized buzz will be a whine in your skull – you might afford me a modicum of mercy, and cut me loose. I can feel you, you know. Like cave water catching the top of my crown, slick down my back, descending my spine; that ancestral column of neurotic, soft bone, replete with its own cerebral webbing.

This is not darkness. It is light. It is an ache, and now nothing is straight. All is webbed along these strands, gleaming. What is before me? It is not there at all. The world fell away, and now I hear the singing of silk. A man sighs, sixteen feet to my left. He misses his wife. How do I know these things? The same way a spider knows a gnat has been caught. The web is my body, my body, the web. Proprioceptive flashes, radiographic spectrums of my vessels, my bones, my spine, my nerves, my thoughts; I feel them all like maps of the world with every step I take. I can feel the unevenness of my organs, the weight of blood in my non-dominant hand. But you already know that.

Talk back. Talk back, I beg of you. My skull used to be closed. I preferred it that way, capped off with calcium, sewn shut with little ridges, cocconed in the safety of my chitinous skin. You found me in a field of peonies, and you sawed off the top of my skull. Now, it all pours in, and I can feel you all watching. Will you please stop poking at my memories? Will you leave the love I once felt alone? Will I ever know joy again, without your surveillance?

No, I suppose not. Maybe you are all my family now. Maybe you are my loved ones and my enemies alike. Maybe I will plunge a dagger into your backs, a dagger into my back, maybe I will carve everything I can, in order to see if any distinction between me… and you…, us, remains. I am this we. You…, I, we… You allowed yourself to become me. Do you regret it?

Am I yet born?

The second portion of this narrative is available to all with Slotted Seerdom. It is a public, widely available message, written in the arcane cryptolect of Caecic. All around the world, little spiders accept the whispers of Phithali. They construct webbing, and upon them, she spins her sightless mandate.

[The Caecic is redacted.]

Codename: HIVE

The Government of the Mori'Quessir Enclave

Sun, 15 Mar 2026 22:33:15 +0000

ON THIS SUN'S SMILE OF 2069

[ Music ]

“ᴡʜᴏʟ ɪ'ɪʟʜᴀʀ, ᴠᴇʟ'ᴜss ʙᴀʟʙᴀᴜᴇ ᴜᴅᴏssᴀ ᴀᴘʜʏᴏɴ, ᴠᴇʟ'ᴜss ᴍᴀᴜɴᴇᴄʜ ᴜᴅᴏssᴀ xᴜɪʟ ᴅʀᴏ, ᴡʜᴏʟ ɪʟᴛᴀ ᴢᴀɪ'ᴛʜ, ᴡʜᴏʟ ɪʟᴛᴀ ɪʙ'ᴀʜᴀʟɪɪ”

As the Mori’Quessir emerge upon the continent of Azuras under charge of the Queen of the Underdark, they enter a land far removed from their dominion. Beneath an unfamiliar sky, and across wilden territories, the CHILDREN OF THE MOTHER find themselves once more thrust upon the edge of history. Olden foes stir in quiet fury, in remembrance of grievances past, their tendrilous shadows lingering still upon the surface. Yet among these dangers arise opportunities, no less great, as budding alliances and unclaimed knowledge promise the chance of renewal and strength.

This undertaking would not endure without unity, nor can unity be maintained without order, and thus, among those of the Mori’Quessir who travelled to Azuras, the mantle of the ILHARES has emerged, to guide the collective will of the ENCLAVE, which gathers all the Mori’Quessir on the surface. Under the ILHARES’ guidance, with the aid of her council, the OBOK TALTHALRA, and the wise counsel of the SENGEREN, the enclave stands as the bastion for all those of the Underdark who now dwell on the surface.

Under its bounds, HELVIIRYN’s legacy endures, its scattered clans united under a single structure of government, bound by a common purpose, sanctuary and discipline. The traditions, institutions and hierarchies that govern the realms beneath the deep earth are preserved and adapted, so that the Mori’Quessir may endure upon this unfamiliar soil without forsaking the identity that defines their very existence.

The hierarchy writ herein defines those offices, their duties and powers granted by which the Mori’Quessir shall govern themselves in Azuras. Through these institutions the MOTHER’S WILL may be carried out as one, united, deliberate, unbroken voice.

The Ilhares [Matriarch] rules over the enclave. Her word is law, and she mothers over the entire Mori’Quessir within Azuras.

The Ilhares of the Mori’Quessir is charged with overseeing the internal harmony of the collective. She serves as the principal steward of the GREAT MOTHER’S WILL, ensuring that the direction of the enclave remains aligned with its sacred and cultural foundations. As the symbolic head of the enclave, the Ilhares presides over matters concerning the collective body of the Mori’Quessir, all clans considered, ensuring that its institutions act with shared purpose and continuity.

In most circumstances, the Ilhares is elected to her position by the Obok Talthalra. In rarer or exceptional situations, the mantle may instead pass through succession or assumption of duty in order to preserve the stability of the enclave. The position of Ilhares may only be held by a female Mori’Quessir.

The Ilhares bears far-reaching responsibilities that broadly encompass:

ADMINISTRATIVE OVERSIGHT

She is to ensure that all civic systems and institutions function in accordance with the decisions of the Obok Talthalra and remain aligned with the WILL OF THE GREAT MOTHER. The Ilhares is responsible for overseeing the coordination and proper functioning of these institutions, thereby granting her the authority to intervene should order or cohesion falter. She shall also oversee the processes by which members of the Obok Talthalra are appointed, confirmed, or removed from their duties.

CIVIC ORDER

While the Obok Talthalra retains its authority in governance, the Ilhares serves as the final arbiter of law within the enclave, ensuring that its statues, customs, and established procedures are upheld. In this capacity, she presides over matters of interpretation and judgment when disputes arise concerning the application of law or tradition.

CLAN MEDIATION

The Ilhares serves as the principal mediator among the clans of the enclave. As is her duty to preserve unity through the Mori’Quessir collective. In this role, she is called upon to resolve disputes between the clans or those notable figures who threaten the harmony of the enclave.

SOVEREIGN REPRESENTATION

As the sovereign head of the enclave, the Ilhares serves as its highest representative in matters of the state beyond the enclave’s orders. She presides over its most significant alliances, treaties, and diplomatic engagements.

The Obok Talthalra [High Council] presides over matters in the name of the Ilhares, as its main executive body by which their will is carried out.

The Obok Talthalra are appointed to their position by decree of the Ilhares. In certain circumstances however, the Ilhares may instead call for an election to determine the holder of the position rather than issuing a direct appointment.

While each member of the Obok Talthalra maintains authority within their respective domains, all positions remain ultimately subordinate to the guidance and oversight of the Ilhares. In fulfilling their duties, they shall act in cooperation with one another to ensure the unified execution of their collective responsibilities. Thus, disputes among the Obok Talthalra are to be resolved through council deliberation, or when necessary, by the judgement of the Ilhares herself.

Each member represents a pillar of enclave society, and addresses its inherent necessities:

The Obok Yathrin [High Priestess] of the Mori'Quessir holds a position of immense power, second only to the Ilhares. The councilperson bearing this title is the ultimate spiritual and political leader of the enclave, responsible for interpreting the WILL OF THE GREAT MOTHER. The Obok Yathrin must maintain herself as the living voice of the temple, guiding doctrine and sanctity. It is her duty to oversee all rites, both practical and gifted. The position of Obok Yathrin may only be held by a female Mori’Quessir.

The duties of Obok Yathrin are extensive and permeate all aspects of enclave society:

FAITH

They lead all temple rites, sacrifices, and ceremonies. Their pronouncements define religious law and morality, and disobedience is often met with swift, divine, or divinely-mandated, retribution.

HEALING AND CENSURE

While they oversee all clinic and healing-related practices. The temple determines who lives and who is allowed to succumb to injury or illness. Furthermore, the temple is responsible for administering poisons, curses, and spiritual censure.

The Obok Elzaren [High Mage] is charged with all sciences within the enclave, its distribution, and the proper procedure to learn and archive these wisdoms. The councilperson charged with the rank ensures that the scientific knowledge that comes into the enclave is properly recorded, and ensures that this knowledge remains highly guarded for the better safety of the Mori’Quessir. The Obok Elzaren must also seek out artifacts, and coordinate the search for any ancient heirlooms that may be discovered. The position of Obok Elzaren may be held by either a female or male Mori’Quessir.

The duties of a Obok Elzaren include the following, among some unwritten:

LOREKEEPING

They will record all wisdom of significance that comes into the hands of the Mori’Quessir, and will archive it for future generations. They hold judgement on what is wisdom of significance and what is not, and hold authority over the sciences taught and learnt within the enclave.

HEIRLOOM SEEKING

The Obok Elzaren should seek out heirlooms and treasures lost to the Mori’Quessir that may be found within the continent, and organize journeys alongside the other councillors to discover and secure them.

The Obok A’ni [High General] oversees all military operations within the enclave and is responsible for organizing, raising, and managing its armed forces. The councilperson charged with this title ensures the readiness of the people and the training of adept soldiers in martial skills, as well as delegating positions within the military to ensure proper coordination between citizens, the military personnel and command. The position of Obok A’ni may be held by either a female or male Mori’Quessir.

The duties of Obok A’ni are extensive, highly focused on ensuring that the following remains true:

LAW AND ORDER

The Obok A’ni is the one charged to upkeep the law by the tribune, and ensure their will is executed in an effective way. They may pronounce judgement on matters, and resolve disputes among citizens, as well as allocate the military resources where needed.

MARTIAL DISCIPLINE

In order to ensure the readiness of the Mori’Quessir and guarantee the defense against possible threats, the Obok A’ni must pass down all martial skills, and make sure that all who wish to defend are up to skill, and properly equipped.

The Obok Belbau [High Distributor] is responsible for overseeing the enclave’s financial and material assets. They manage the levying of coin and resources, and supervise the administration and distribution of territory. It is their role to account for all resources in accordance with the enclave’s needs and priorities. Thus they work closely with the other councilpersons to gauge need. The position of Obok Belbau may be held by either a female or male Mori’Quessir.

The duties of Obok Belbau include the management and oversight of:

COIN AND RESOURCES

They are responsible for managing the levying of coin and resources throughout the enclave. By manner of overseeing the administering and distribution of taxes, as well as the collection and allocation of resources.

LAND AND INFRASTRUCTURE

They will oversee land management within the enclave, ensuring the proper distribution of housing. In addition to the responsible use of lands such as farms and mines. As well as the long-term sustainability and development of territory.

The Obok Ontaress [High Negotiator] is responsible for overseeing all diplomatic efforts within the enclave, and ensuring the high command’s will reaches the allies of the Mori’Quessir that lay outside the enclave’s domain. The Obok Ontaress will be the one responsible for signing pacts and deals between the Enclave and outside parties, and will keep record of said writs. The position of Obok Ontaress may be held by either a female or male Mori’Quessir.

The duties of Obok Ontaress include the following, among others unwritten:

DIPLOMATIC PACTS

They must oversee all negotiations pertaining to alliances, trade agreements, and non-aggression pacts. Ensuring that all existing agreements between the enclave and outside parties are kept current and properly honored.

INFORMATION

They must oversee the management of worldly intelligence, including major events beyond the enclave and the maintenance of accurate records regarding reputable leaders and the extent of their power.

The Sengeren [Tribunes] are those Mori’Quessir of great renown that enjoy the right to offer counsel to the Ilhares and Obok Talthalra.

The Sengreren stand as a body composed of former Ilhares, or Great Leaders. As established through the body of the Great Xalythi Tribune in the first year following the enclave’s surfacing by decree of Felyndiira Mierillis. These individuals retain their influence within enclave society. In this capacity, they serve as the Sengeren, an advisory body to both the Obok Talthalra and the Ilhares. Offering counsel drawn from experience, known tradition, and their service to the Mori’Quessir collective.

The Sengeren do not exercise any direct authority over the governance of the enclave and therefore hold no formal power within the decision-making processes of the Obok Talthalra. Instead, they exist to provide guidance and perspective when called upon by the Ilhares or Obok Talthalra, to support deliberations of the enclave’s leadership without superseding its authority. Or in the event, that further deliberation is required of law or action.

CREDITS

PeachLova | Writing, Formatting

Chaotikal | Writing, Formatting

Elahicol | Consultation

Pallodium | Consultation

Spoiler

To Fight in the Sunlight [WC VID]

Sat, 07 Mar 2026 22:22:15 +0000

To Fight in the Sunlight

A Mori’Quessir’s taste of surface warfare.

Keralth stood on the earthen mounds behind the Imperial palisades, staring at the fort ahead… So bright today, he thought, looking over the arrayed siege guns. Their black color betrayed their frequent use, and their crews seemed to know their way around them. Ahead, the Urguani fortress rose up to the sky. A practical thing, mostly gray, crawling with precious few defenders. Even from this distance, Keralth saw the flaws. Breaches would follow quickly, if these gunners were as competent as first glance indicated they were. This type of fighting was not familiar to Keralth. He had fought in ambushes, skirmishes, and even duels in the street, but nothing of this scale.

⧽ ♨ ⧼

The roar of cannon heralded the start of the battle. Keralth had joined a prince’s retinue, which moved towards the base of the wall. The retinue’s skirmishers exchanged bolts and arrows with the defenders on the lower battlements, as cannons smashed into the walls above. Keralth remained in cover, eyes squinting through his visor at the brightness above. He glanced around from his position, seeing some Imperials push up to the walls besides his position. Arrows kept the Imperial attackers at a distance, for now, though some brave groups pushed ladders up against the wall, only for them to be pushed back down or fall short. A dwarven berserker jumped onto the group, before being swiftly cut down. Cannonballs smashed into the walls, causing rubble to fall down near him. He glanced up. A breach?

The prince who’s group he had joined, Martinus ( @helldiving) , suddenly roared; “Up, up!” whilst gesturing to the nearest breach in the wall. Keralth helped three knights in Imperial regalia push a ladder against the wall, and then started mounting it after a few of them had gone up. Glancing sideways, he saw other ladders going up, armored figures streaming towards the fortifications from the siege camp like lines of cave ants towards from a corpse to their colonies. Soon, he found himself on the first battlements, trading blows with a dwarf in heavy armor, managing to knock him off his balance right before a trio of Imperial bannermen joined in and overwhelmed the warrior, stabbing him in the gaps of his armor and bringing him down. The fighting shifted to a constructed ramp, leading up to the central tower. Imperials were trying to scale it, but the dwarves were holding the top, pushing the Imperials back. Keralth had joined the fray, climbing to the top of the ramp and trying to push dwarves out of the way, or pull them down off their fortifications, into the waiting polearms of the men-at-arms below. Suddenly, with their numbers dwindling, the dam of dwarves broke, and the Imperials poured through, with Keralth joining them. Once at the top of the tower, the Imperials made short work of the few defenders that remained. Few were taken prisoner, most slain. Keralth observed how quickly the Imperials set about stripping the bodies, taking weapons and armor, jewelry and whatever else was at hand.

The battle had come to a close, with Keralth looking down upon the now smouldering fortress from a nearby hill, sat in the shade of a pine tree stubbornly growing upon the mountain side. He’d strum his lyre, and watch as the Imperials, once again resembling cave ants, packed up their camp and loaded up their loot, moving east towards the Urguani capital. Soon, he’d finish his song, and find his horse, keen on joining them for the next contest. Perhaps fighting in the caves would suit him better.

⧽ ♨ ⧼

Beyond the Pale

Sun, 01 Mar 2026 06:41:09 +0000

A step away from the royal lineage, that was the closest she had ever come. An advisor, a vizier, a hopeful watcher, and that was the closest she had ever come. In the years past, if she had merely waited, and bit her silver tongue, the Xalyth would have offered her a status eternal. That was the closest she had ever come. Now, in the aftermath of her exile, she could only call the surface home. It hurt, that lurking star, the occuli of Gods that glared down upon the stretching world: the sun. How close had she been to the true center of darkness, and now her only providence was the thin Night, that thing that came and went with the folly of that leonine, roaring beast of luxurious light.

Cycles. She learned now, of their repetitive truth, the patterned tapestry of day and night. Below the soil, underneath the cover of eternal shadow, the Mori’quessir had grown complacent with an understanding that belied the profane reality of the world. The sun rose, the sun set, the moon rose, and the moon fell. This churning process shocked her. The mortals of the surface divided their time like this. For every day, for every night, a triumphant rise to power, and a catastrophic fall into oblivion.

It gave Phithali a horrifying sense of insignificance. Beneath the sordid shadow of the Mori’quessir, time was measured in adrenaline. In plots. In the comings and goings of figures of importance. The world felt self-contained, a tight knit web of conspiracies that bound each moment to the next. The immortality of Fae rendered a foggy view of time itself, set more as a vague association of cause, effect. Plot, payoff. Scheme, success… or its brutal failure.

But here, every moment, every slice of time gave its eternal honor in the onslaught of this perpetual penumbra; the rising, the falling, the shining, the dimming, the fire, and the shadow. But here, oh, but here brought a rich, rich truth – too sweet to swallow, too grand to comprehend, a realization borne out of deep time & deeper axioms. Watching the sun shriek as gloaming knives bid it back into the underworld, Phithali drank in the depths of starlight. She had a moment of realization, as she bore an honest judgement from sun up to sun down, tracking its hoary gleam across the satin of Mundus’ sky. As night yawned its gloomy maw, the Mori’quessir’s eyes looked at secrets beyond the firmament that the sun hung in. Phithali knew that deep in the earth, shadow, furtive secrets were abundant. Here then, on the surface, the sun came and went. But she saw, far into space and its astral amazement, that beyond the bleaching sun, was a darkness far more expansive & wide than the mere shadow of the Underworld.

Truly, there was more darkness than light.

When she laid down her head upon the soft grass, she suffered the most peculiar of dreams. Bid before a great sky, under antediluvian night as dark as Phithali bid up a surreal gaze clouded by somnambulant psychosis. The sun rose, and fell; the moon built to crescendo, and diminished. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again,

Until the rippling light and warping shadow began to look less like a sky, and more like an awesome winking eye. It opened, and shut, and opened, and shut, until the milk of its pupil ran into one blind color, and then wholly gone, gone, gone. The sun was a thin, singular lie. In the vastness, there was no time. No space. The darkness beyond her face was the same darkness beyond her arms the same darkness beyond her eyes the same darkness beyond her home the same darkness beyond Mundus the same darkness beyond reality. One unerring web of uninterrupted shadow, from here, to there, from source to oblivion.

Infinity.

When she awoke, she saw nothing.

And further out, everything.

[The Enclave] Summons for Service

Tue, 24 Feb 2026 21:09:53 +0000

Spoiler

S U M M O N S F O R S E R V I C E

FROM THE ICHARYDS OF CLAN XALYTH

ბინდ თო ოურ ბლოოდ ანდ ფინდ დუთჲ ინ ქინდ

TINY RED AND BLACK SPIDERS SCATTERED ACROSS THE LANDS, INTO THE UNDERDARK AND UNTO THE SURFACE INTO THE HANDS OF ALL MORI’QUESSIR. UPON THEIR BACKS LAID A PARCHMENT, WRITTEN IN BLACK INK AND ICHOR IN THE TONGUE OF ARACHNIDS, ILHARNORRS.

⧽ ♨ ⧼

Hark, kith and kin of the Eternal Mother. We, the Icharyds of Clan Xalyth, have come to a grave realization. As more of our brothers and sisters are surface-bound or already walk beneath the Sun, our laborers of the mind, body, and matter lie scattered like dust. This cannot stand. Our strength is our unity. Thus, our work must reflect this too. Hear us, Mori’Quessir, we beckon you to come forth and contribute to our enclave. Skilled artisans, scholars, beast masters, and more, you will find open arms with us. A letter to Omareth, Keralth, or Sapriina of Icharyd Xalyth will assure this. Our word, like our blood, is binding. Know duty and purpose through us, for the betterment of all who choose to face the Sun.

Those who would bind unto us, through oath or contract, may find themselves well compensated. Coin or supplies, protection or shelter—these are our means of making sure our laborers are well-treated. Should any laborers in our employ stand above the others, we shall give them additional boons as earned. The smith may have more metals to toil with, the mage more tutors to hone their knowledge, and the alchemist their reagents to make their concoctions. However, none must mistake the dealings of the Icharyd for kindness or leniency. Know in advance that any who break their word with us shall know the full weight of their choice.

⧽ ♨ ⧼

Spoiler

Credits:

Format: pallodium, prophetisms
Writing: psychra_notte
Grammar and Editing: prophetisms

[The Enclave] E X C O M M U N I C A D O

Sat, 21 Feb 2026 23:36:45 +0000

Spoiler

⬰♮⇴ [ E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ ] ⬰♮⇴

Tʜᴇ Xᴀʟʏᴛʜɪ Eɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ

გ ა ნ კ ვ ე თ ი ლ ი

ꜱᴄᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴠᴇʀɴꜱ ɴᴇᴀʀʙʏ ᴀᴢᴜʀᴀꜱ’ ꜱᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴀʀᴀᴄʜɴɪᴅꜱ ᴡᴀʀʙʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴇᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇᴍᴏʀᴇ- ꜱʟᴇᴡɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴄʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴄʟᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴜɴᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏʀɪ'ǫᴜᴇꜱꜱɪʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ- ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ɪʟʜᴀʀʀɴᴏʀꜱ- ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ-ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɪ’ᴏ̨ᴜᴇꜱꜱɪʀ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄʟᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ; ᴀ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ʟᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇʙʏ ɪᴍᴘʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏʀɪ'ǫᴜᴇꜱꜱɪʀ ʙʏ ᴠᴇʀᴅɪᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ.

⬰♮⇴

Kith of the depths. Kith of the throne.

სიღრმეების კითი. ტახტის კითი.

To all those children of the Eternal Mother whom arise to the surface of the Sun- witness and heed the mandate of the Eɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ. Hereby, all Mori’Quessir whom wander the surface world whom wish to seek aide and endorsement of the Xᴀʟʏᴛʜɪ Eɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ adhere to the eternal code of the declaration E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, henceforth instituted to the children of Nemiisae upon the world of the Sun.

ᴅᴇᴄʟᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀꜱ ᴇxᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴅᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴍᴏʀɪ’ǫᴜᴇꜱꜱɪʀ.

In its simplest form, any Mori’Quessir whose actions and intents transgress the Enclave’s purposes or risk harm to any people of the Depths hereon is to be declared E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, an eternal exile from the society of the Enclave and the civilization of the Eternal Mother. All Mori’Quessir whom are declared E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ are to be attacked on sight if found by any Mori’Quessir, to be captured and brought back to suffer judicial execution under the oversight and jurisdiction of Nemiisae’s will.

⬰♮⇴

To be declared as E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, a Mori’Quessir must be deemed to have performed a major transgression against the Enclave or to the kith of the depths as a whole by at least half of the Tribunes; in the rare instance that a Mori’Quessir is to be un-declared as E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, they must be given endorsement by a majority of the Tribunes that sufficient atonement for their sins have been performed in the Eternal Mother’s name.

By enacting any of the following transgressions, any Mori’Quessir shall be rendered E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ by the Tribune’s will:

» Transgressions against the Xalythi Enclave- be it theft, murder, or staining our prerogative name- or performing any action to sour the Xalythi Enclave’s reputation will be met with an instant declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ.

» Any acts or performances of romantic nature to lesser beings will be met with an instant declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ.

» Slaughter or deliberate harm of Nemiisae’s favoured- arachnids and the shadow’s fae- or their structures of investiture and worship will be met with an instant declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ.

» Siding with or performing the ill-crafts of the necromantic, infernal, or draconic will be met with an instant declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ.

» Providing aide, assistance, or any ilk of help towards any Mori’Quessir declared E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ or to individuals hostile towards the Enclave or Mori’Quessir as a whole will be met with an instant declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ.

⬰♮⇴

When a heinous offense assures a declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ by the Tribunes’ verdict, the seized Mori’Quessir is to face a penultimate consequence to be marred with a brand to denote them as exile; they are to bound and violently stripped of the Eternal Mother’s blessings upon their form, ripped of their chitinous self, and hewn mandibles. Upon one’s censure from the Enclave, they are to be seared with the inverted symbol of the Xalythi Enclave upon their forehead, permanently branded as E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ whilst those performing the exile invoke utterance of the world:

ილჰარ დ'ველდრინი, ილჰარნ დ'ვლოსი

Ilhar d'Veldrin, Ilharn d'Vlos

დუმო დოსთ დალჰარენ, ველუს ღილ ფრეასლა.

Dumo dosst dalharen, vel'uss ghil fre'sla.

მრიგა ძილი იშვიათი, კანის კუდის ძილის თავშესაფარი, ნიჯიკი ძილის გარაატ,

Mrigg nind rarr, skikudis nind sharen, nizzik nind grt,

ჯი ნინდელ ხლურისტენ ხალ თლუ ანდიელ,

Ji nindel khlurysten xal tlu andiel,

ლუ'ნინდოლ ნოამუტ დალჰარ დ'დოსტა, ო'ილჰარი, ო'ილჰარნი,

Lu'nindol noamuth dalhar d'dossta, O'Ilhar, O'Ilharn,

სალ რაგარ გრასანტო ლუსანრარი, ვუნ მეგობარი

Xal ragar gre'as'anto lu'sanrr, wun dosst Oirna Taur.

Thereby, upon conclusion of this branding and invocation, the transgressing Mori’Quessir thereforth is declared E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, and exiled into the world; failure to stave away from our kith will result in their seizure and capital punishment under the witness of Nemiisae’s divine oversight. Following declaration of E x ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴜ ɴ ɪ ᴄ ᴀ ᴅ ᴏ, they lose all endorsement from the Xalythi Enclave and thereby further are disinherited from all benefits and aides- to be treated as an exile with no ties to the Enclave whatsoever.

Bear witness, fellow kith; the edict of the Eɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ hereby remains paramount.

ᴇxᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ ʙʀᴜᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱɢʀᴇꜱꜱᴏʀꜱ.

⬰♮⇴

Spoiler

[Recruitment] THE ENCLAVE'S CALL

Thu, 19 Feb 2026 16:38:24 +0000

Spoiler

T ʜ ᴇ E ɴ ᴄ ʟ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ' ꜱ C ᴀ ʟ ʟ

ა ნ კ ლ ა ვ ი ს ზ ა რ ი

ꜱᴄᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴄᴀᴠᴇʀɴꜱ ɴᴇᴀʀʙʏ ᴀᴢᴜʀᴀꜱ’ ꜱᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴀʀᴀᴄʜɴɪᴅꜱ ꜱᴋɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ- ꜱᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴀ ᴘᴀᴍᴘʜʟᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟʏᴇʀ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ɪʟʜᴀʀɴᴏʀʀꜱ- ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ-ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɪ’ǫᴜᴇꜱꜱɪʀ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ- ᴀ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ xᴀʟʏᴛʜɪ ɪʟᴋ, ᴛᴏ ᴀɢɢʀᴇɢᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.

⬰♮⇴

Kith of the depths. Kith of the throne.

სიღრმეების კითი. ტახტის კითი.

To those who arise to the surface of the Sun- we beckon you come forth unto our ranks, gather together in unity. Be you warriors, priests, scholars, or hunters; be you Xalythi or otherwise, our creed welcomes and beckons all whom choose to walk the surface lands. The Sun’s lands are vast and unpredictable; adherence and collection to our creed comes in great advantage manyfold.

Seek the Tribunal for inquiry- our gates and creed welcome all of the Underdark.

ვალტირი, კუნდუსი, ვურვირი, სზორუილი, და მცოდნე ქსალიტი

[ Valthir, Xundus, Vurvyr, Szorruil, and ასდფ Xalyth ]

⬰♮⇴

[ O O C ]

Spoiler

This is a RECRUITMENT POST for a Mori’Quessir collective/culture known tentative as the Xᴀʟʏᴛʜɪ Eɴᴄʟᴀᴠᴇ, a novel society centric around primarily Xalythi (one of the four primary factions) drow who are collecting together. If you’re interested in playing a Mori’Quessir, create a Xalyth persona and join us! Furthermore, if you already play a Mori’Quessir, come around and interact sometime! We’re a growing group that are currently working on making our Culture, wherein any of you interested can help contribute towards creating an interesting sect of Mori who have unique ideals and values, whilst still being this truly direct and ‘true’ Mori’Quessir culture fixated around this.

What is the culture of Xalyth like? We intend to expand upon the base origin of Xalyth, which is as follows:

[ C ʟ ᴀ ɴ X ᴀ ʟ ʏ ᴛ ʜ ]
ᴘᴏʟɪᴛɪᴄɪᴀɴꜱ, ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɴɢʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ; ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪꜱᴇᴅ

Once the most respected and prestigious bloodline, the royal bloodline, Cʟᴀɴ Xᴀʟʏᴛʜ once ruled through extreme fear and cunning. Backdoor politicians, they are renowned in their ability to successfully pin clans against one another for their own gain. Their modern day survival under Felyndiira is only due to their cleverness, something they were once without. Viewed as the most competent diplomats and master manipulators, their greatest weakness is and always has remained their paranoia. Clan Xalyth, even now deposed, bears a bitter pride to what was once greatness. Xalyth would often think exceptionally highly of themselves, with pronounced ego. The Clan as it is now is exceptionally broken apart and disunified, with a clan leader viewed as a puppet of Felyndiira - though, perhaps it is merely a ploy to prepare their vengeance.

Xalythi Mori’Quessir may be more manipulative, bitter, venomous, and prideful compared to their counterparts. They would be exceptionally talented at reading individuals' emotions and intents, and would act upon those, even subconsciously, to be in their own benefit. Xalyth Mori’Quessir would often have an excess in ego, wearing gilded armour and weaponry, and excessive jewelry - taking great efforts to appear both regal and refined, even with their now lowly status.

Duly so, Mori of Clan Xalyth also has charcoal grey to unsaturated black skin, whilst their eyes are dusty indigo to rich violet. However, of course, all Mori’Quessir are welcome within its fold, given they contribute to the greater purposes and causes the Enclave strives for! The Enclave is a unique group of individuals who have come together and attempt to band amongst one another to create a forceful society- they will directly do what needs to be done to pursue their agendas, and they- of course- have many of these, which range from the small to the vast- with one being tremendously, tremendously vast.

We ideally wish to form a Lair soon! We’ve already many an individual ready for this, but before that even becomes something we can consider, we need to PROVE that we can be an active community and not die out, and that involves roleplaying, staying active, and making a good and interesting culture to interface with!

Join the discord! It doesn’t matter if you’re dead-set to play a Mori, just want to check it out to see if you would want to play one, or just want to hang out as a normie! https://discord.gg/sbMsVqvhMy

mreow :3