Our Battered Path

[Baconthief 682]

Day by day the memories of the mortal realm slip out of my fingers. The faces of my children and friends are all but lost to me where I now reside, yet what I do remember is my vanity and the fruit my vanity had produced. Through my vanity, ambition, and desire for glory and fame I found I help set the foundations for mali’ker to find their identity.

 

I was an elven prince with an ambition to rise to the position of high prince and render my will on all beings that would dare enter my forest. I found my fellow pale-skined mali princes and citizen’s weak willed and easily molded, I easily thrived among them like a tree among flowers.

 

It was a high prince by the name of Koylat, a defector of the state of haelun’or who took notice of my ambitions. He had made efforts to remove all mali’ker from malinor, in fear of myself and much stronger kin. A political game I played, I left the high council and founded a small hamlet that never saw much activity. With my departure, the high prince fled the continent, as I had predicted. This hamlet was abandoned and pushed from my mind as I returned to malinor.

 

I found the title of prince, easily, once again. For years I served all mali of malinor, under the high princess Titania. Through many decades filled with wars, silent streets and alleys, to the most active of forests I waited for my time to be bestowed the title of High Prince. That time did come

 

It was a new prince who took what was mine by right. I left the nation of malinor and returned to that hamlet. The nation of malinor completely fell within two years of my departure. In my absence the hamlet had taken on the name of DarkHaven. I never liked the name, thought it was more deserving of an elven name. Yet, regardless, the city grew, quite large. My memories of the place are few, and still some of the last images of my mortal life I’ve remaining.

 

I remember the packed streets, overgrown with life from the nearby forests. The rains, they frequently visited us in our forest home.

 

 

The people as well. Many mali’ker began to travel to our forest and settle among us. Kind hearted mali’ker who lacked the vainity and ambition that I did. Here I found the error’s of my life

 

 

Unfortunately I, Khel Oussana, fell in battle but a few years after I gathered these mali’ker together. I recieve prayers now, voices that I cannot call back to in response. If there is one thing I hope I left the mali’ker before I died is that we do not need the wood elves or high elves. We do not need gods or a kings. For one who is not a mali’ker can never hope to truly hold reins on the passion and will of my people, our knees are only bent by our own.

((Could an FM remove posts that aren't in the spirit of the post))

 

 

[MamaBearJade 2090]

 

 

With my father as leader now gone, Kaldo and I stepped up to take his place. The decision to move from our sanctuary in the woods to the land of the Mali'ame was a hard one to make. The power of the clans shifted many times between Kaldo, the trinity, and myself. With no one willing to guide and lead but no one willing to let another lead, we allowed ourselves to slink into the shadows.

 

This all changed when we arrived to the fringe and our first home with the Mali'ahearal was set. Goroth, Sathoro, and I built homes to match our pale skinned kin. However, under their rule we were even more lost. With our numbers spreading, I left with my clan to save the few of us who stayed together. That is until my mate Dak'ir took the lead and began a new chapter with the mali'ker.

[Dakirennis 959]

 

 

I was a sellsword. A nobody. I was just another random mali'ker who was lost in the realms we lived in. I worked for the family of our greatest leader, it was the only thing I could think of to help serve our people and perhaps help them along their way.

 

After the fall of Khel, the Trinity took control. We were led to Leanniel where we created an everlasting bond with the mali'ame and then to the Fringe, living under the rule of Haelun'or and within the same walls as the high elves.

 

I disliked the Trinity. I disliked their lack of pride and their praise of another race's God. But most of all, I disliked their lack of a spine. They bent easily to the will of other so that they could continue on their business of sick carnal pleasures. They were useless in the long run of our people.

 

So I left. As I was bound to the Oussana I took my leave with Z'ress when her clan departed Haelun'or. But I knew this path was not the right one. I knew we needed the mali'ame and the mali'aheral, as much as the thought pained me at the time.

 

I was tired. Tired of seeing our people as nothing more than orphans without homes. We wandered the lands hither and thither. Broken and in disarray. I was tired of just standing by.

 

Through a series of events, I left the employ of the Oussana and returned to Haelun'or. Gathering what few I could, I took the dark elves to their walls and formed some semblance of unity once again. I swallowed my pride. I knew that on our own we would be nothing and return to the way we previously were. 

 

 

We could not reside with the mali'aheral atop their mountain, nor the mali'ame in their basin. We were cast out lest someone rose and made us a home. And it was I who arose. With the help of Jiub, my first advisor, and his men. We quickly built walls and created our first real home since Darkhaven. We founded Ker'lomi.

 

It was here that we began anew and struck the earth. We built walls to weather the tides of war that were waged outside. We build hollows below to rest our heads. But most importantly, we founded a temple. With our new found unity we also needed to return to our roots and sing praises to our Ancestors once again.

 

 

I stood on the walls of our home frequently. Pride swelled in my chest. We had a home once more.

[Dakirennis 959]

 

The Fringe was never meant to be. With war, plague, and drought wreaking havoc on the land it was only a matter of time before we'd depart once more. We stepped through the portal as the Fringe entered it's final days and into a new land called Thales.

 

 

Once again we took refuge in the earth. Safe and serene. We knew little hardship in this land, despite the uneasy treaties that were in place between the nations.

 

Even though the high elves and wood elves tended to bicker above us, we stayed in our homes below. In Thales we reached a population that rivalled that of the wood elves and the high elves and became somewhat of a family. Everyone had their job and their place in this hollow. 

 

All was well for now...

[Dakirennis 959]

 

Ah Athera. A land of false promise and disappointment...

 

Beneath Annil'sul we began anew.  Amongst the crimson crystals and stone halls we prospered once more. We were left to our own devices and everything was, for a time, peaceful.

But sadly, our own little world was thrown into turmoil once more as the mali'ame and mali'aheral began to spit venom. Both had their diffrences and perhaps the mali'ame were right to call the mali'aheral on their barbarism. But I was foolish, and ignored the outside world.

 

 

We gathered in our temple and discussed plans for our future and before long, we decided the best course of action was to not act at all. We closed our gates and allowed none in, even going so far as to create a second entrance to our home to avoid exiting into Annil'sul where our cousins bickered. But all too soon that mere bickering became war and my old friend Phaedrus led a rebellion against the mali'aheral.

 

 

After the dust had settled and a victor chosen, we emerged from our stone halls. The mali'ame the conquers of the city. So, once again, for a time there was peace. More dark elves came and left our flock but we progressed. Families bloomed and celebrations were had. But the high elves did not let their defeat be their downfall and with Oren in tow they came to reclaim the city... But they were accompanied by a third group. 

Another group of dark elves, calling themselves the Laurir'ker came. Overly zealous desert dwellers who'd come to assist the high elves and steal my people from their homes. But only after judging their right to live. But there was little we could do. With that, Annil'sul was destroyed and our home was taken with it. Scattered and hunted, the dark elves were homeless for a time unless they'd joined the Laurir'ker. While I'd never stepped foot in their village, a report from a mali'ker who did described it to me as being similarly led to the high elves, though more brutal. Kin killing being frequent over the most frivolous of reasons.

 

 

But years passed and before long the Laurir'ker were claimed by the sands they once took refuge in. Disappearing or dying off, who knows. But as for myself and those that still followed me, we took refuge with the mali'ame in their new village behind the high elves arcane abominable plateau they'd created. We were too few to found our own village, but that did not stop us from carving a little semblance of home within the mali'ame village. We constructed a temple to our Ancestors and founded an order called the Archons. An order dedicated to guiding our people from the path of barbarism and leading them into the light of our Ancestors and into an honorable way of life.

Edited July 6, 2018 by Dakirennis

[Baconthief 682]

Reserved for Atheria+, from now

[Dakirennis 959]

And so we grew... Albeit barely with Haelun'orian raiding parties attacking the our new refuge. Cerulin's citizens found themselves victim to the hateful silver raiders that would simply jump from the Haelun'or's void born plateau and onto Mali'Ame rooftops and of course, war would break out again... But to my surprise. An offering of peace did come.

 

Kalenz was a despicable man. I'd learned under him somewhat during my early days as Okarir'Ker. I knew his tactics and his methods. But even I fell victim to them. Within the forest of Fiandria, I spoke to him under his new guise. A slightly blonder more blue eyed ‘Aheral, they all looked the same back then, he spoke of a ruin far to the north. Mali‘Ker ruins that may hold tomes and artifacts pertaining to our ancient heritage and the key to calming the natural fury of Firandria forest. I cared nothing for the forest and it’s secrets as the ‘Aheral did. I merely craved that information. That piece of lost history that could shed light on the secrets of my peoples origins. So I cooperated.

 

 

Myself and a few of my men joined the Haelun’orian expedition teams, venturing across the north for various gems that would give us access to the ruin that would quell Fiandria’s spirit. Facing beast and undead alike, we would eventually find the Dark elven ruins. Weeks of searching had all led to this moment. Stepping through the threshold they found themselves facing words, not creatures. Various riddles lined each new chamber they had to pass through. Each new room, it’s stone walls adorned with markings of the moon and images of dark elves of various walks of life. A maiden in a long dress appeared frequently. I determined I’d study the markings later and so we did descend further. More riddles and a close call with something far worse than death brought us our bounty.

 

A small stone chest cracked itself open to reveal the final gemstone the high elves needed. They took their prize and fled. My companion Alak scooped up the items and laid them before us. A few ‘Ker, alone in a dark cave with the trinkets of their Ancestors. We were all quiet as we passed the sword, the stone, and the mirror between each other. I nearly wept. While they did not give us very much information, we had something. A shred of history.

 

 

We would make our final expedition to the ruins of Fiandria in the days that followed. I had promised to see this through and so we would. An elf from the days of Malin himself told us of the ruins and how to destroy them to quell the forest’s ire. He’d outlived his usefulness to the ‘Aheral and Silir slid the blade through the old elf’s back before bringing it down onto the altar that drove the forest mad. Their cold callousness knew no bounds to me, disgusted as I was, our quest was done and so we returned to our temple for now. To bask in it’s remaining days.
 

 

The ‘Aheral would seek to destroy the new Mali’Ame village and we could stand by no longer. Their senseless need to subjugate our cousins was driven too far and the thundering march of human legions could be heard from days away. An alliance of ‘Ame, ‘Ker, Dwed, and Uruk faced off against unending tide of Oren and the Silver cohort in a hastily built fortress. But it was one the humans were all too familiar with facing. We were driven from the safety of our underground haven and forced to the surface. We fought ourselves free but more of the humans came. A rainbow of colors from their various houses. Some hastily formed a dangerously thin line while others fled to the safety of Fiandria. I chose the latter. Most of the Archons fell fighting their way out of the fort that day, and I saw no sense in throwing the rest of us to the wind for our families to mourn. We fled into the safety of a nearby cavern. Slaying a scouting party before fleeing through Embermoor and rounding back to Fiandria along it’s southern bordering mountain and along the coast to where the Mali’ame had set up refuge. Content with driving us off, Haelun’or’s maddening screams for blood fell silent for now. We returned under the cover of night to collect our dead. On the shores Leyulin we burnt their golden forms. Sending them to the Ancestral Plane to dwell in paradise with our kin for their honorable sacrifice. We hoped they heard our prayers that evening...

 

 

The camp soon turned into a village, and before long, a bustling settlement for our forest dwelling cousins. I saw no room to grow here for our kin, and all often did I feel hated by my kin for siding with the ‘Aheral for a time to acquire our artifacts. I did not wish their ire. So I gathered us up once again, the few ashen kin, and took us to Fiandria’s eastern mountain. To dwell in the caverns I called Ker’nor. 

Edited July 8, 2018 by Dakirennis

[Supah 334]

As soon as the Grey Lady neared the shore all of the mali'ker aboard the ship had cheered, for both finding a promising new home, and being thankful to finally be able to set foot on some land after so long. We quickly sent out the rowboats towards the new land, packed with both mali'ker and what supplies we could bring. The first boat of course packed with the Arbiter and his three Ordinators ready to defend him from any threats that might show themselves, but soon we set foot on the ashy beach and scouted the land, and began to build anew.

 

 

I had followed my father Dak'ir around the island, scouting along with him while the other mali'ker loaded supplies off of the ship and began setting up camp. We had been met with no hostility in the slightest and over the hill we saw smoke rising. We quickly rushed over the hill, and saw it was coming from a second island just a quick swim away from ours! A rowboat was fetched and we made our way across, and the heat could be felt growing stronger and stronger as we neared the second island, until we could go no further. Peering over the lip of the hill it was discovered that the island was no island at all, but a volcano, spitting ash as the wind carried it over to our main island.

 

 

It took much time, and much hard work from our people before any progress could be made, and gradually, stone by stone, our city was built from the ground up. Houses for the good people of Ker'nor, shops for the merchants, a tavern to drink and rest within, the temple to bend knee to the ancestors, and most magnificent of all the keep, towering high above the city and keeping watch over the citizens. Within the hall of the keep, and near the blazing fire, was where I sat. In the hall of the keep, next to my father we held meetings and discussed business, creating plans of action. Parts of the city remain unbuilt, though soon they will be finished, and our mighty city of mali'ker would stand tall and proud.

 

 

It would be too soon before there were those who had sought to tear down what we had built, and within the shadows the leader of the Warhawke clan had planned a rebellion, to unite the mali under their own rule and rebel against the humans that forcefully united all of Malin's children in the first place. We were safe, and our people were happy. We wanted none of this rebellion and acted oblivious, at first. Charges were brought for one of the elders of the Warhawkes, a known troublemaker for his inability to hold his tongue. He was charged with slander against the Arbiter and making death threats against his wife. We called a meeting with the Warhawke leader under the guise that we wanted the elder's tongue and arm for his crimes.

 

The meeting was set up. The Arbiter and two of his Ordinators, along with the Lord of Law, the Sohaer, the Praetor, and the Warhawke leader, accompanied by two of his clanmates, but not the elder. I stood along side my father, the Arbiter, and simply listend as the three leaders of Malin's children spoke aloud to the Warhawke leader. It was not too soon after that we had heard the sound of armored footsteps rushing up the stairs to the keep, and I witnessed a knowing grin appear on my father's face as he waved his hand. The gate had slammed shut thanks to my fellow Ordinator, Alakagh. Mercenaries and Dwarves had arrived in assistance to the Warhawke clan, but well over half were stopped short by the iron gate. Though we were outnumbered, still.

 

The three leaders of Malin's children stood, the Praetor and Sohaer both calling aloud. From the depths of the keep were heard a deep rumbling, and flooding out into the meeting hall came two armies, the Sillumir and the Sirame, Sirame making up the bulk of the force. They quickly outnumbered and surrounded the small force, as I, along with my brethren, drew my sword. A few words were spoken, before a final command was given. Swords and armor clashed, sparks flew, and blood was spilled.

 

 

The elven forces were victorious by a land slide, and the head of the leader Warhawke was collected for the Arbiter, as a message to all elven kind that this is the reaction given to any mali that would attempt to rise above the three leaders of Malin's children.

 

We mali'ker are at peace now, chopping wood and collecting stone, building what little is left of our city, and working to please the ancestors. Though we hunger, to learn more about our ancestors and aspire to create a deeper connection to them, may they guide and protect us.

[Dakirennis 959]

It was only a matter of time...

Through the Fringe, Thales, Athera and into Vailor I did my duty diligently for nearly a century.
Through war, plauge, and betrayal. I stood my ground.

My rule has passed. I've lived for a little more than two hundred years but it's as though a millennia has passed. The weight of my position is far beyond what I am capable of anymore.
But I look to the future and I see promise. Many have flocked to Ker'nor and taken up the will of Onyx. Who are willing to bring honour to our Ancestors.

Indras. Ever faithful.

 

DeNerum. Ever adamant.
 

Azarik. Ever diligent.

 

 
Uthlini. Ever loyal and the eldest clan of what I forged in the wartorn times of the Fringe.

 

These are just some of the clans that form the solid pillars of Onyx that will keep our people united. Perhaps I shall return some day. But for now it is time that my guiding hand let go of the reins, and for my watchful eye to see if my people can walk a path of honor and faithfulness.

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.