A Shadows Dogma

[Moot 1719]

Kalameets sits idle in his study. Books, tomes, arcane ruins littering the room. A faint light trickling through the window of the messy den. Kalameet stares blankly, emotionless, his eyes darkened from the lack of sleep which has cursed him throughout his life. Slowly Kalameet lifts his left hand, staring at the grotesque burn scar which covers the entirety of his hand. Clenching his left fist, the skin breaking and splitting, the hand numb to the possible pain. Slowly Kalameet stands, a brisk sigh escaping his mouth, he turns to the door departing his study.

Kalameet walks up the steps of the Council Chambers, looking up, his eyes narrowing. “What the Nether…” He grits his teeth “Castor, Janos, Kaldo!” Kalameet calls forth, his friends being consumed in a black mist. Kalameet runs up the stairs, halting as Janos falls to his knees, grunting. A man walks from the black mist smiling softly. “Who the Nether are y-” suddenly his words cut short, black tendrils holding him tightly, cutting off his breath. “Hush now, child.” the man snarls, his black eyes locked with Kalameets, a black glossy aura filling, and mixing with Kalameets, he snarls in pain “Y-you f-fu-” slowly he rises, the tendrils holding him up. “Ooh, you’re going to be fun.” the man says simply, waving the tendril, slamming into the three others, sending all of them off the edge of the staircase. As Kalameet flew, he saw a single human shout “Oh Godanistan!”.

 

Then Kalameet fell, suddenly silent. Suddenly darkness.

((Kalameet is MIA))

[Avacyn 1712]

Janos Ith'ael stumbles into the council chambers, the Tribunal in a meeting. They drag their gaze to the man, whose skin is paler than normal- he looks sickly, dark bags under his eyes. He stands before them, before weakly speaking.

"The Justicair is dead."

He unfolds a note. "This was found on his body." He begins to read it, his voice cracking, sadness clear in his tone.

"The Conclave is to be left to Darius DeNurem. May he see it prosper to a new age as I could not."

 

Janos sighs sadly, placing the note on the table.

[Heero 4092]

Archmage Crumena somberly gazes over the headstone bearing the fallen Justicar's name in the snowy mountain tops of Wyvern college. He kneels before the already blanketed stone. Planting a mask retrieved from his dusty old quarters of the college only to peddle back a few steps.

"Atleast he finds peace now."

the pale Magi murmurs. Turning his back to the headstone as he departs from the site.

[Cyndikate 2303]

Karin sees his grave and closes her eyes, sighing, trying her best to surpress her sadness, despite the burning hatred she had. She sighs once more, and begin turn to walk away. Things have no just become harder to move on.

[Heero 4092]

((Noo. Why'd you PK?

 

Blame the drama. It's a real shame. []

[Crayfishchris 751]

Kristian pores over military texts and statistics. Despite his resigning, he had found it hard to pull himself away. Years and years of habit stuck. The whispers were already on their way. The death of the Justiciar, the founder of Conclave.

 

"No... no... no..." his hands crumple up a roster listing as he hears the words from a passing Evariran, one of his former soldiers. So it was true, after all. The man who had brought Malinor to its knees and replaced it with a better nation was well and truly dead.

 

"So he is dead... an' replaced by Lion? Hmph. Conclave. Let's see where the future takes ya, aye?"

 

He settles back in the chair, looking back at the ceiling. His family, his friends, his superiors...

 

Truly, we're all going to die soon, be it by man or by beast. Us men and Elves of the Old Malinor have no place in this new world, and it is punishing us for our wrongdoings. Our sins and shadows are catching up, and we will all soon know the meaning of true pain.

[Caelria 2619]

Caelria sits quietly in his temporary office within the hidden Mali'aheral facility, he cracks open his third book, a small and well organized pile forming on his left.
 

"It's fantastic living within this area, such calm and quiet... so little to bother you."

 

He looks out his "window", actually a fabrication of glowstone and blue stained-glass, and lets a soft sigh escape his lips.

 

"Indeed, it is most wonderful being a pure Mali'aheral."

 

[Malaise 1570]

A masked figure, clad in layers of silk and steel glances down to the Tribunal Chambers, blinking in silence. He shifts slightly, turning away from the previous scene of twisted occurrences. As he walks, a sickly, twisted aura follows his form in close pursuit, complimenting his attire decently.

 

This shall be amusing.

 

Kaldo Raven'kor, a newly altered being of shadow, flees the scene in silence.

[Anawkin 247]

(( It's My music~))

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Art pats baby Caedwen on his little head.

"Looks like we can live and be unthreatened by war now."

[Moot 1719]

Art pats baby Caedwen on his little head.

"Looks like we can live and be unthreatened by war now."

Harsh winds suddenly blow from the East. Something is amiss...

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

Art pats baby Caedwen on his little head.

"Looks like we can live and be unthreatened by war now."

 

Several Orenian Knights and Men at arms put on the clothing of Sellswords as they travel east to join an army that seems to be amassing for some form of invasion.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

Fujiwara sits on his knees in the Dojo, his eyes dark, head low, Katana in its' sheathe on his thighs, he looked up at Satmoi who looked at him, with a nod, Fujiwara stood up and walked out to join his father Kais'O Shas Ishikawa on the armada of the East...

[The Lion 736]

The 5th of the Amber Cold, 1452. The wind blew gently off the jagged emerald mountains around golden fields of wheat. The enchanting musings of a wind chime drifted through a farmhouse open for nature to flow through. Bursting from the home was an enthralling light that emanated from a lone figure cloaked by the rays. At the very moment Kalameet had fallen, the figure's meditation beads came apart and fell to the floor. Darius snapped back to reality, returning to the ground as he stared at the beads rolling across the floor. Puzzled he rose to his feet, walking to the doorway of the house, "The game has changed."

[MrJoshy 130]

Serenity reads the note, and sighs. "Younglings. I feel the pain of losing another brethern Mali, but this was bound to happen sooner or later. Crsat mras oruga: May the afterlife serve you well."

Serenity slowly walks away, leaning on her staff to support her broken leg, and she walks slowly from the entrance of the Conclave, to her home in the forests of old Malinor, humming an honourable tune for a death of a man.