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Chaos And Splinters

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Supremacy

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Chaos: The natural enemy of elven kind. Our long lived kindred, in their foolishness tend towards lawlessness when not compelled towards the law. As a result, chaos arrises— The ultimate degrader of elven society.

 

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While the mali'ame of Laureh'lin may be those we our fighting, the true enemy— Elves of the Law— is far more insidious. This enemy wields not blade or bow, nor does he whisper in any way known to elven kind. Nae, our enemy is an idea— One that has spread its weed-like roots all over elven society many times before, dragging it down to immiseration and turmoil.

 

Our true enemy, dear elves, is therefore this idea. This idea by name is Chaos. The chaos that riddled Malinor's society until its death. The Chaos that grew in Lin'ame. The Chaos that now resides so flagrantly in Laureh'lin.

 

 

For the good of all elven kind, chaos must be replaced with order. For it is the only way to assure prosperity of the elves.

 

The mali kindred are now offered not a choice but an imperative: To unite against the despicable notion of Chaos and embrace order and the rule of Law once more. Should elves refuse: They shall be forcibly compelled to comply with the law— For this is the only way to end the spread of chaos.

 

— Elsohaer

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A golden figure, an ordinator of the Archons, says but a single statement in respect to the declaration of order's imperative. 

 

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Artimec reads over much of the same old drivel before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a sigh.

"Turns out all you need to be elected in Haelun'or is a thesaurus and the ability to point at things and go 'oooh evil'."

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"Chaos."

Ac'Aelu says dryly, staring out at the scene in front of him. He notes a few people in the tavern, talking. He watches two men discuss a trade. Much to his own happiness, he also hears a small group discussing where they'd cut lumber for Cerulin's construction. One thing he finds absent, though, is chaos.

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"See, now chaos is more subjective than anything.. but if it's illegal to build pillow forts in Haelun'or, I believe I know why they're so stressed out all the time," Isabella pours Artimec's wine.

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((Templars vs. assassins m8))

While the false elf squabble amongst themselves a horde of pale elves amass to strike down upon their enemies... driven by an ancient anger.

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Artimec reads over much of the same old drivel before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a sigh.

"Turns out all you need to be elected in Haelun'or is a thesaurus and the ability to point at things and go 'oooh evil'."

Ehieth Haumel quips, "Artimec certainly is a seasoned mali'ame. Why is it then, that he uses the colloquialism of a budding mali'ii?"

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"It seems that Mr Camoryn would be the new naysayer! A negative one he is, to say the least." Cyrus says, almost chuckling.

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