A Dangerous Affliction

[Supremacy 3361]

The moon was at its highest point in the sky— Interestingly it was a full moon upon this particular night that Kalenz sat in his so-called crypt, a small cup of tea in one hand as he pondered the conflict to come. He twitched in irritation with each thought of the vile elves of Laureh'lin before all of a sudden and without warning convulsed and fell to the ground. In his mind's eye stood a six armed and festering orc, reaching out to grab the illusionist.

 

 

The shadowy behemoth with six rusted hammers, one for each hand, struck at the Sohaer— One by one piercing the flesh of his dream.

 

Hours later he would awake, notably before the dawn and anyone had discovered him, his body no longer pristine but tarnished— His skin tainted with boils which ran along his body. There came a scream and then silence.

 

Hours later Kalenz would be seen walking the streets of the city, more hobbling than walking rather. He would twitch as he did so, a faint light on occasion shimmering about his finger tips— The boils covered by crafted eldritch might. Later that day a message would sit upon the message board of Haelun'or.

 

OOC recount. You weren't there, friend. Therefore you do not know of the above unless told by the orc who cursed Kalenz.

 

Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya; this is the guiding principal of Haelun'or. Progress and Health, devoid of the chaos caused by impurity.

 

 

The vile wood elf fights not with blades, bows or eldritch concoctions but with the weapons of the uruk. Afraid to allow an elven matter remain of the elves they recruit the bortu to defend them and the uruk to carry about their underhanded curses.

 

They know they may not face us alone.

 

I shall allow them this transgression, for I must. In exchange we shall continue to make our own: The elves who protect the genocidal filth of Laureh'lin shall receive no respite or pity. They made their declaration long ago when they decided genocide was their course.

 

You reap what you sow.

 

— Elsohaer

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Artimec has heard the high elves accuse laureh'lin of relying on allies instead of fighting elf to elf, yet recalls that Haelun'or relied completely dependantly on their human masters for the majority of Anthos and the Fringe. He shrugs it off. At this point expecting high elves not to be hypocritical was like expecting to be able to dodge rain.

[CosmicWhaleShark 2488]

 

Phaedrus polishes and sharpens his blade in preparation, events would lead to a clash, no matter what.

 

"Now then... Will you come out and face me yourself, with this incentive... Or continue to hide in your tower."

 

Phaedrus looks to the edge of his blade, twisting it this way and that in the light, squinting down its length afterward while muttering in a grizzled tone.

 

"Let's drop these charades, the declarations of justice, honor, whatever else, Sohaer...

 

We both just want to kill one another.

 

Let's finish this, I will not be there to save your life, this time."

[Rael 935]

Rael rips his weapon free from Phaedrus' head at his smithy in Petrus, swiftly wiping the gore off on the clothes of the corpse.

 

"Dark magics will not stop our path, nor will they lay low our Sohaer. Prepare yourselves, mali'ame."

[Samoblivion 532]

Kaelin's snorts as he hears a Dwarven legionary laugh about the confused messages Kalenz sent to their High King.

"They're honestly surprised that we called in our own allies after the Mali'aheral spent decades cowering behind the Crimson-Silver Concordat - whose own allies proclaimed many times that genocide was their goal? Ha, what irony! Is someone regretting his bloodlust now, sohaer?"

[Gunner 775]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.