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The Onyx Father

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Dakirennis

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The ship sat anchored off the northern coast of Ker'nor, several ebon haired mali'ker work diligently across it's deck. A few small row boats make their way back and forth from the shore, the same dark haired mali'ker making their way to the ship with their belongings and supplies for the journey.


At the prow of the ship, a familiar face looks towards the island with weary eyes and a soft smile as he wraps an arm around his mate. Dak'ir lets out a sigh as he leans on his staff for support, reflecting on the speech he'd given before he left...


*-*


He stood at the top of the temple's steps. Dark elves from all clans and families of Ker'nor had gathered for the rather abrupt meeting, concerned for the reason it was called.


"My people... With sorrow in my heart I must say that as of now, I am stepping down from my position as Arbiter as well as disbanding the Archons and the Council..."

Dak'ir hangs his head for a moment as all is silent. He collects himself before continuing on. 

"I've led our people to the best of my ability since the Fringe. I've witnessed war, plauge, famine and worse. But I always remained at the helm. I've seen the rise and fall of leaders from the mali'ame and mali'aheral. Seen the elves as a whole rip themselves asunder time after time. But I remained... I've fought tooth and nail to get the dark elves to where they are today."


Dak'ir spreads his arms, looking to the various shops and houses before gesturing to the keep.


"When I first arrived in Darkhaven, most of our people resided in the Citadel. But now, our current Citadel couldnt even house half of what we have today. In the Fringe, Thales, and Athera, we dwelt within the cavernous deeps. But I knew we were better than that. Mori, some still called us. But when we arrived to this land I saw this ash dusted island and knew that it was here that we could rise up. No more caves and dark elves trying to cling to the old heretical beliefs of Moon and Spider. We founded a home for our kin, named the volcanic titan to our south Khel'igne in honour of our greatest leader, driven our those among us who wished to bring us to ruin. It was here that we could venerate our Ancestors in peace, coexist with our cousins in the forests to the west as we always have, and finally... Finally become something better than what humans tell their children at night to scare them."


"But my time has come to an end. And I leave this is the hands of my more than capable brother and he will form a council of our families. Because that is our greatest treasure. We have lost homes time after time. But at the end of it all, we've always had each other. Do what is best for our people. Know when to cast our the ones that would lead us to ruin or damn our people. Know when to offer a hand of charity to those that need. But above it all, love and honour our Ancestors and keep our people safe."


 *-*


Dak'ir looks down to a silver pendant that hangs around his neck, a rather plain white stone sitting in it's center. He mutters a soft chant, wishing that the Ancestors watch over his people as they always have and to guide them through the next chapter of their journey before slipping it into his armor. He turns to Lielle who gives him a reassuring smile. As twilight falls, the Aeternum Nox hoists it's anchor and sets sail.

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"In midnight clad, my kin. Someday I shall return."

 

Thunderin hell. Here I am. It was May 2014 when I took over the dark elves and I was still pretty green when it came to the server and it's ways. But here it is, over a year and four maps later and we're not a few losers in a cave any more. I've met some amazing people in this server and my list is too damn long if I were to thank each and every one of you for providing me with all the help and laughs you've given me. But Nummy gets a huge ******* thank you for this amazing art piece she made for me, I only hope I didn't break her bank with all the mina I threw at her for it. Now I'm not leaving the server, I'll still here and there, trying out some new rp and writing things for the dark elves. But as a cook who works six days a week and twelve hours a day for most of those six days, I don't get much time to myself any more, let alone the server. Dak will still be around here and there but he'll mostly be off sailing around Vailor with his family, making port with the woodies and darkies when I feel like playing him. 

So stay fly folks, I'll see you around.

 

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Vulnir rested his hands on his hips. "You did well, van'ayla Arbiter." 

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Dakelthel stands in the Archon armor with a confused look plastered across his face as Dak'ir makes his speech. His brows furrow and he wonders what the nether is he supposed to do now with his cousin stepping down and his supposed means of redemption being disbanded. He shakes his head and grumbles as he walks, making way to the docks to sail back to the Ame city where he's been staying, taking off the Archon armor and stuffing it in a chest when he reaches his room.

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Goroth chuckles as he thinks back on how many of the Mali'ker leading figures have sailed off at some point in their lives. This evidently included himself and he muttered,

"Have a nice time out at sea Dak'ir..."

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An onyx-haired woman stands at the dock, watching Dak'ir's ship depart. While giving her farewells she laughed and cried, hugging the Des'nox leader goodbye. As the sails filled with wind and began to pull the ship away, however, she grew still, her face stoic enough to be etched from cold stone. The wind tugged at her hair and set her blue gown to rustling, the same wind that bore away her closest friend. Under her breathe she cursed the wind, then slowly raised one arm to wave to the retreating figure of the ship in a final farewell gesture. "Be safe, Dak. And you better come back."

Edited by Birdwhisperer
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Blue eyes gazed out at the sea as the wind blew by, ruffling Lielle's long, black tresses. Just a short time before, the ship had set sail, and good byes had been said. 

Tears had threatened to escape as the farewells were exchanged, Syndaria's flowing tears made it harder for Lielle to keep her's in, but she had managed to.

And with the goodbyes said, she had stood at her husband's side, right arm wrapped around his middle. The other hand had raised to give a final wave of farewell as the wind picked up, beginning to take the ship away.

"To new beginnings." She murmured, letting her head rest against her husband's shoulder and leaning into his side.

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Divayth nods once, seeing the former Arbiter leave Ker'nor behind. "Times do change, indeed. Let us see what there is to do for the future." Heading back, a last thought. "May the Ancestors guide your path."

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What some would consider a savage, others cultured, sits many paces away, staring out at the departing boat as it sailed off. From beneath a gnarled tree, the savage Mali'ker watched Dak'ir and his family board the ship, departing the lands after some time. To the savage, memories of a much calmer time come to mind. A time when he was once a neighbor to Dak'ir. A time when the once-Arbiter simply tended a farm and interacted with many other Mali whilst gathered around a calm, open lake. A smile pulls back at his thin, grey lips. The savage slowly stands, pulling his traveling cloak tight around his bare torso. A time long ago, before his body was so scarred, a time before his body was inked with honor and change. A time when Azel and Dak'ir had been friends.

"Farewell, Des'Nox."

Edited by Azel
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The familiar glowing blue eyes watch Dak'ir's ship from afar. Her curved elven ears drooping as she watched the man she had known for years as her father leave. Her eyes close as a tear rolls down her cheek. Barred from the ker due to fear of what she was, she never returned fearing she would have been killed. Now she lost her chance to reconcile with her father, with Dak'ir. "Goodbye Ilhar." she says. "May you be safe in whatever lands you go to."

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Shadrik frowns in his bed as his nephew changes his bandages. His frost witch wounds were healing and his illness passing, but he wouldn't heal in time to wish Dak'ir good tidings. 

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A Doomforged sits in his study, when receiving word of his old friend's departure, he mutters "Yemekar, Dungrimm, nar Dormmar akhoral voz, Dak'ir." After his quiet unheard farewell, he returns to his stack of papers.

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(( Whom ever deleted my post had no reason. I posted so I knew about this in RP.))

Cole would've been hidden within the crowd gathered to watch him leave. Soon after his leaving, he'd make haste back to the Warhawkes to bring good news that possibly a more fit leader will bring greatness.

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

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