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First Blood

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I promise I'm not a Communist.

 

Several  posters are put up, in Haelun’or and along the main roads of Thales. They read as follows, in bold lettering:

 

The Traitors Strike!

=+=+=+=+=+=


 

Today, the first blood was drawn in the  struggle against the seditious Council of Splinters. Today, following a cowardly attack by the Malinorean  scum upon those of Silver, the Mali’aheral have once again displayed that they will not yield in the face of chaotic adversity, but instead stand strong against those who would see our people suffer.

 

A small group of the Blessed Race (consisting of Durion Uradir, Yulnii Elibar’acal, Ceriren Elibar’acal, and the twins Zaniil and Safrill Tinuvriel,)  arrived at the Druidic sanctuary to investigate the death of Popo Sandybanks. To their intense surprise and consternation, they were accosted by a large amount of rebels, who had evidently been hiding in the bushes surrounding the Grove. Drawing swords, the horde charged the Aheral, ambushing them as the latter attempted to discover the truth in the name of the Sohaer. With cries of “Ay’Sohaer!” and “Haelun’or!!”, the brave servants of justice fought back; shoulder to shoulder and surrounded by the barbarians of Norithel, Osage, and Talonni.

 

Hugely outnumbered but still fighting valiantly, elmali’aheral were forced to retreat, beating back the magic and swords of the Rebel Council with resolute strength. It seemed almost as though they had lost the skirmish… but, as silence fell upon the Grove at long last, three of their enemies lay dead in the dirt, their lifeblood staining the loam a dark crimson. But a single drop of Aheral blood was spilled… that of Elokarir’mali, Durion Uradir, as he blocked an axe with his hand whilst protecting his kin.



 

Let this be a lesson to all dissenters, and all who hold treason in their hearts; he who raises a blade against Elmali’aheral will watch their compatriots fall. We did not come for your blood, but you forced it upon us.

 

Next time, there will be nowhere to run.

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Aelu frowns, sending out birds to the others on the council.

 

"Mali'valah claim an attack by us. Investigate. Find out which idiot did this. No war, dammit."

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A single word radiates like a thousand suns in the eyes of Ikur.

 

"Ay'elsohaer".

 

Or, translated to its actual meaning:

 

A lead.

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Damned Commie!

 

Cyrus would furrow his eyebrows upon reading this notice, mumbling to himself "So... they are serious..."

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Katari hears word of these posters and shakes his head, heading over to scribble a reply at one of them. "There were no rebel elves present. Merely people that wished to defend the Druid who you held at knife point during your 'peaceful investigation'. You wish to pin the blame on rebels? So be it, but those 'three enemies' that lay dead, were two innocent Druids, one a woman and the other a small goblin. The third was a halfling. I /applaud/ you on your actions, so mighty and bold to have slain the meek and weak. I do thank you for listing the names of these offenders though, I suggest you watch your back." The note is left unsigned.

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Katari hears word of these posters and shakes his head, heading over to scribble a reply at one of them. "There were no rebel elves present. Merely people that wished to defend the Druid who you held at knife point during your 'peaceful investigation'. You wish to pin the blame on rebels? So be it, but those 'three enemies' that lay dead, were two innocent Druids, one a woman and the other a small goblin. The third was a halfling. I /applaud/ you on your actions, so mighty and bold to have slain the meek and weak. I do thank you for listing the names of these offenders though, I suggest you watch your back." The note is left unsigned.

 

"More threats! I am beginning to very seriously doubt their commitment to peace." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wish you the best of luck, anonymous ill-wisher."

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"No such attack was ordered, every single person of Norithel was present in the town all day today. We've not left our walls. Whatever people attacked you were not of Norithel."

 

Dwyn sends off this response, huffing in irritation at either the high elves lies or people posing to be a part of their cause. A cause that only wishes for a peaceful separation.

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Arveldir blinks in confusion, "...Norithel? Norithel did something? No no we... stayed within our walls... all Elven day... He must be confused," he shakes his head lightly, tossing the paper away.

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"No such attack was ordered, every single person of Norithel was present in the town all day today. We've not left our walls. Whatever people attacked you were not of Norithel."

 

Dwyn sends off this response, huffing in irritation at either the high elves lies or people posing to be a part of their cause. A cause that only wishes for a peaceful separation.

 

 

A reply is sent.

 

"I came across a poster with a written reply. Apparently there were but defending druids. Mali'valah seem to consider goblins and halflings to be rebel elves.

 

If they were going to lie about attacking us they could at least do it without turning the Druids against them. 'Tis their own folly, though."

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The Grove of the Thales was bore nay more than a year looking to the past. It's trees' trunks yet but twigs that scavenge the sun's grace and the soil's succulence to achieve greatness, remarkability, and reverence. As their developing roots dig the ground beneath them, their searches are returned with the bitter taste of blood. 

 

"Four have fallen. Our peoples, our culture, our philosophy teaches nonviolence. Peacefulness is as deeply routed in our history as are the roots of our mother trees." The Arum Druid squats to the ground beneath him, clutches a handful of the Grove's soil, and spits into it. "Accursed is this damned land, riddled with the stink of bodies not yet cold, smelling with the same stench that can be tasted from a skunk's spray." He throws the soil against the Druidic notice board, the veins of his forehead protruding with utter rage.

 

"The Aspects shall not tolerate this behavior. Justice must be founded for our four brothers and sisters who have been murdered in cold blood by rushing rage and ignorance."

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Leyun frowned. Once again she had found herself cleaning up dead bodies in the grove. The poster, though, caught her attention. Both the claims made by it and the person who had wrote it. She would be writing Elorna and Lucion. It wasn't elven rebels who lay dead in the grove. It was druids.

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three brothers and sisters 

 

((*four.))

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"Ukee den, diz ees floating ehrund... wut's d'word... relee skah'n dumb. Yub. Midink det's wut et wuz. Kourze, mi kould meyke eh neu word fur diz ztupiditee, but mi kent bi bodured tu. Firzt blood medal tuu yu, hozh job. Pin det on yur kill-board."

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