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An Election Begins

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Upon the desk of the inn you spot a small box with an iron lock with an even smaller piece of parchment upon it. Your mali'aheral curiosity, incapable of being torn away, drives you to investigate this relative oddity. Within moments, you are pouring over the papers. Strangely, only one appears to have writing upon it. Gazing upon its simple, black script, you read it as thus--

 

 

The Medi'ir Election

 

Those of this blessed cihi are advised that the next election for the task of high leadership is now, once more, upon you. Choose with the clarity of Larihei's wisdom, and fault shall remain elusive.

 

The three candidates have made their positions known to the public through questions they have submitted. It was within every citizen's best interests to observe this event, and those that refrained shall lack understanding. Though your vote should be stripped from your person for your disdain of knowledge, your right to represent yourself shall not be removed.

 

Diligence in the face of ignorance.

 

maehr'sae hiylun'ehya

 

 

The Candidates

 

 

Iatrilemar Elervathar

 

Volé

 

Dasyra Linath

 

 

And so you must make your choice...

 

((http://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/108946-a-tribune-steps-down-a-new-position-opens/))

 
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Iatrilemar Elervathar.

 

~Delonna Aeléyèlsa.~

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Iatrilemar Elervathar is a veritable choice.

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Earendur Places a piece of paper into the ballot box, it reads as follows:
 
Vote in Favor of: Iatrilemar Elervathar
 
Vote Casted by: Earendur Vym'vallei
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Lucion glares at the names of the candidates, and shakes his head with a furrowed brow, and a tsk.

 

"Not a single non-flawed candidate."

 

He gazes up to the sky in thought, and begins to recount what he knows of each entrant beneath his breath.

 

"That "Vollet" fellow seems rather lacking in experience, even if he has been a Tilruir for such a time. Perhaps a little longer in lower positions will allow him further practice in leadership."

 

"Dasyra spoke of dreadfully regressive ideals. Further entreating outside dregs? An arm's length is still close enough to touch. And I do not appreciate the way she referred to our culture as "unique" in that speech of hers. Were I to be more presumptuous, I would swear the tone was disingenuous."

 

"And then lastly sits that under-shirt disregarding buffoon Iatrilimar. For all his respectable clarity, I am simply incapable of thinking him anything but a tea-serving clown! Oh, the indignity..."

 

After a full minute of staring at the parchment, he raises his hands in the air, and shakes his head.

 

"I must elect that which is least-flawed."

 

 

Iatrilemar Elervathar

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Ikur looks around, staring at the notice with a raised eyebrow before considering. He recounts the fact that he gave a charitable donation of wines to Iatrilemar, and that wasting that investment of good will, would infact, be rather dimwitted, and if Iatrelimar was to become Medi'ir, maybe so would the position of innkeeper be once more open. He adds a vote to the parchment.

 

"Iatrilemar"

He slips the note into the box and walks away.

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Iatrilemar Elervathar

- Asul'ceru Elibar'acal.

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A thin metal plaquet is in the box. It's been engraved.

"Dasyra Linath.
                         S. S."

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Iat directs Lucion "Mr. Sullas as you have might noticed I have become much more accommodated with wearing shirts as a measure of good faith in our people. Progress in strides, llir. Although names such as clown and buffoon hold a bit of comedy for both you and I, your overall input is something to be gracious for." After he signs

 

 

   -=- Iatrilemar Elervathar -=-

 

~*~ Iatrilemar Elervathar ~*~

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Iatrilemar Elervathar.

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"Iatrilemar.

-Seth Calith."

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Iatrilemar Elervathar

 

-Faenglin Merris

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Iatrilemar Elervathar

 

-Ituri Vanrya, a Mali'ker picking her most favorite mali'aheral~ 

 

*The rest of the page is filled with silly doodles of pale skinned elves doing silly things.*

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