A Resignation.

[Leric 1097]

15th of The Amber Cold 1574                                                             


Restless - a word often applicable to the High Prince, an elf with the straight posture akin to a seasoned soldier. The one proclaimed King of all Elves, now a High Prince of his Dominion lay tossing and turning within his small, makeshift quarters set up within the supposed supposed taxing building. A quiet sigh concluded his seemingly endless movements and stream of thoughts, sitting up and peering down at his beloved wife whom lay beside him; an ever present expression of worry splayed across her features. A few soft murmurings and a gentle smile reassured her before he stood, tucked her in and headed out of their small, compact room.

Moving outside to be greeted by a cool breeze of air rolling through the city of Linandria, his tired expression soon melding into a stern, grim demeanor as he appeared in the public; as if it was a necessity for him to put on this look to his people. They knew him to smile little and almost always speak sternly, unless on special occasions that allowed some joy to pierce his otherwise somber features. He meandered through the city aimlessly, passing by his forge where he worked day by day creating tools for him to mine with, and armor to fight with. It was an endless grind, that perilous task of mining, smithing, and fletching bows for his people so that they may be prepared for battle. They asked for more and more, draining the young elf of his happiness and soon becoming a tool to his people, one that he sought tirelessly to do his best for. He was tired, there was no hiding it, any elf upon the streets at any time of the day could see the heavy bags beneath his eyes that gave way to his wariness.

“I do not even have a home yet..” he laughed to himself, affording a rare occasion of amusement as he arrived at the stop of the steps to a flat space above the throne room. A grand home he had planned to erect upon this soil, but instead focused upon building homes for his people, seeing to it that they had what they needed. Even allowing pews and a stage for a wedding and feast to be set there, caring more about the bonding marriage between two elves than his own home.

He thought back to his once unified Elves of the Dominion, how his entire goal throughout the near century of his leadership were to bring them together under one banner. Yet he knew it was impossible that the three branches of Mali’ could ever live together, he still wished for them to be joined; in some way. It had worked for some time until a mistake of his, one that he tried profusely to amend was exploited and used as a manner of propaganda to break away his unification of elves and shatter his goal. At first he wished to kill them all, how dare they rebel and have propaganda created to demean his hard work and actions, to slaughter them as the fabled White Rose did to the Malinorians of old. But upon that day he killed those elven rebels upon the fields of war, he no longer sought their unification, believing it would only bring more death and bloodshed to a race that produced few offspring. He did not want their death any longer, only the desire the preserve his kind.

There was always more that he could do, mistakes to rectify, and people to scold. His duty was never one that could be finished, it was an endless task that could only be ended the day that he decided to resign from his position as High Prince and hand the title over to his successor. Yet the task would still not be finished, simply handed off to a successor, and then the next, and the next. He believed a leader could never be finished with his duty, that when one task was completed, another arose that require mending.

He thought to himself about his arrival to Axios, stating to his council, his wife, and his child. “Just one more month”, yet his duties always made him stayed latched upon it longer than he wished. For a very long time he wished to resign from this position that he held, but never was he able to due to problems that would arise such as wars or issues within the Dominion itself. There were few times that he had the chance to resign without ruining his legacy, those rare occasions being spent to relax and prepare himself for what storm was to inevitably come.

No more, the elf finally made his decision and walked to his throne with a slow gait, his eyes seeming to savor the walls around him and the simple, yet fitting wooden throne he sat upon. From a slot beneath his chair he withdrew a stack of parchments, a quill, and an already filled inkwell that he began to write with. Every problem there was, and every one that would soon arise would no longer become his burden, placed upon another.  With this very notion, he began to write smoothly across the parchments laid before him.

=+=


“To my people, not only those of Linandria, primarily the wood elves but those that the entirety of the Dominion encompasses. As I sit here contemplating the legacy I will soon be leaving, I cannot recall the exact year that I took my initial position within the Mali’ame. Firstly as a simple drill master, one whom found himself fancying a cocoa skinned Mali’ who was to birth my first child, and also become his murderer. To Princeps where I found the lovely wife whom I still stay with to this day, Praetor, Prince, and possibly another title that may have skipped my mind.

For a long time have I led the Mali’ame, and by extension created the Dominion of Malin which broadened by reign to Mali’ker and once Mali’aheral. Sixteen elven months. That is the time I have held this position, consistently seeking the improvement of the Mali’ and only wishing for them to become better, day by day.

We were once struggling, crippled by the purist mind of the Mali’aheral. My decisions in the past, close to a century of leadership have been more than controversial, yet one cannot deny the sheer fact that the elves are no longer as shattered and weak as they once were. Given that, our people are still spread far and wide among the several Nations, we are still in a much, much better place than we were over a century ago, and beyond that.

In the past couple decades I have grown tired of my duties, rapidly becoming a husk that led his people and only sought their improvement, nothing more.  I became more of a being that was rarely seen out interacting with his people, more commonly found in the forge hammering away so that our Sirame could be well armed, fletching bows and arrows for great hunts or war, the mines where I beat rocks tirelessly to amass resources, and in the throne room where I held the meetings with our council, or visiting Nations.

It is time I resign, and leave the mantle of High Prince to whomever the combined council of Arbiter Dak’ir, Prince Artimec,  Prince Ac’aelu Tinuvial, and Princess Titania Hawksong to gather and choose whom my successor shall be.

I hope that whomever takes my position handle it with responsibility, and should they fail to, and prove unhealthy to the Dominion shall a new leader be elected for the betterment of Our people. Otherwise, I’ll return briefly to beat you all senseless.  

Therefore I, High Prince Tristin Tresery of the Dominion of Malin resign from my position so that another may take its place. May the Aspects guide you, Councillors, and our people to a better Elven Kind.

Signed,
Tristin Tresery of the Dominion of Malin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ndpryp2OlUQ
Extremely fitting for any leader.

First I’m sorry if the post sucks I don’t ever write forum posts so I’m not as seasoned in the art of formatting. Secondly I’m not quitting the server, just resigning from leading the welves and putting my focus into whatever RP I feel like going into. I’ve been doing this from half way through my Sophomore year of highschool, and to the beginning of my Senior year. I was twelve or so when I first started out on this server, fifteen when I started leading the Welves, and seventeen now. Sixteen months of doing this and I’ve decided that it’s about time I let someone else take over (probably leo). I’ll still be present in the welf community/chats, but no longer be in any leading position/etc with them. Any welf should have my skype, or easily be able to get it, so if you want to say anything feel free to pm me over that platform. You guys have all been pretty great, spare the several dozen times I’ve yelled/scolded people for making stupid mistakes, I’ve enjoyed my time leading nonetheless. Have a good one!

[Dragonslayerelf 654]

Lindrael would give his King a brief salute, muttering in his raspy and gruff voice "I fought for that man. I fought for the Wood Elves. I have pride.", however, it would only be audible to those nearby. The withered and scarred face of Lindrael would almost appear to have a single, saline drop of water drip down his cheek.

((o7))

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Nafis smiles at Tristin Tresery from the Seven Skies and gives him a nod for a job well done!

 

He quickly steers his attention away from the mortal realm, afraid of what would come from the ***** elf Artimec at the helm of the Dominion.

[Guest]

Kairn swears loudly to himself, leaving halfway through the speech. 

[Calioos 91]

Calius dips his head, letting out a heavy sigh as times were soon to change. "It has been an honour to serve under you, llir."  After a brief moment to recollect himself he'd walk back off into the city, looking for new young mali to house.

[JEEGK 1367]

Berr stood there, reading on to the sorrow felt words of his Praetor's letter, basking in all of the sorrow that comes from each of his words of resignation, only remembering how he felt during his times of wanting to do the same, but always being dragged back in to fight for not only his city, but for his leader, Praetor Tristin Tresery. ((tdfootball6))

 

He returns to his gate duty, wondering what he has left to pull him through, for not only the wood elves, but for this world.

 

((Gonna miss you not screaming at me for doing something absolutely idiotic, and the times where you've helped me through certain tough times, as well as the so many times you've stood up for me when I was unable to do such myself. You were there to put me on my feet when I joined LotC and guided me the correct way. (At least I believe) and I thank you for that, I hope you find enjoyment towards where ever your experience takes you, see you later man o7 ))

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

I never wanted more than this. Artimec thought to himself, referring to the peaceful little grove he had grown within the walls of Linandria. The sacraficial brazier burning and the shrines to each Aspect standing proudly. His thought was true. He hated politics. He hated fighting. He hated beuracracy, he hated giving orders and laying down the law.

 

Artimec wanted to teach. He wanted to guide, to lead his people through sermons. To bring back the old way, to celebrate the wood elven culture that had been lost. To bring it back to life, in all its glory.

 

He had done this, but only because he finally had others to share his burden. The likes of Tristin Tresery, the young mercenary who rose to become among the most legendary of leaders elf-king would know. With Tresery reigning and covering the all the burdens leading a nation could entail, Artimec could finally pursue his vision of cultural revival. A vision that had been hampered for so long, as he had been forced to lead his kind.

 

With Tresery gone, he would have to lead once more. He looked around. He never wanted to leave this grove, leave the comfort of his god's presence. But he had to, the burden of leadership was his to bare once more. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought down a lump of dread that had accumulated in his throat.

 

There is nothing to be done about it. This is your duty. You swore, till the end of your days, to be a guiding light of your people. The voice in his head spoke true. There was no running from this. He pushed himself to his feet stoicly, grasped his staff, took a deep breath, and exited the sacred grove. He had to convene the princes of the Dominion to meet. It was time to truly lead once more, for the first time since the great war in Athera.

 

Here we go again.

[Malgonious 2758]

A weathered Hakon Ruric would note the resignation, raising his cup in the Prince's honor.  "You fought for your people, that in it's own is a noble goal. Enjoy your rest."

[Elvrohir Aureon 210]

As the former High Prince walks through the city the day after his resignation, he turns a corner, and is greeted by the entire Order of Sirame, standing on bended knee, in rows of three. At their head is Elvrohir Aureon, standing straight, his hands held behind his back. He takes a step forward, and begins to speak...

 

"There is little to say sir. You picked the Mali'ame out of the dirt, and threw us into a Golden Age. Our race owes you a debt it can never repay. Your dedication, your skills as a warrior, and as a diplomat, have been an inspiration to us all. Thank you for your service, it was nothing short of an honor to be your El'Annil."

 

Elvrohir thumps his chest twice, and the entire Order rises, and in unison, exclaims

 

"AME AME AME!"

[DahStalker 3692]

Mare released a soft exhale, lips pursing briefly. "Forgive me for being a disappointment, llir. But it has been a true honor to serve you." 

((Finally ;^J))

[Pureimp10 5691]

A weary baron would look down at the elf from the Seven Skies, frowning as the speech comes to an end.

 

"That one'll be hard to top."

[GDPR 014 48]

A Willowsman frowns, acquiring word of the speech. "Well shiet. Guess I can't go hunt'n for gators 'n one o'them barkie lands. Shucks."

[Cave_Creature 467]

Faeinn smiled sadly over at her father, her hand reaching out for her codex of elven laws and bureaucratic proceedings to flip through once again.

[LadyRebecca 1050]

Having recently been wed beneath the arch on the plain designated for the High Prince’s home, Arahaelth Aureon reads over the resignation, a forlorn expression on her face. Lifting her eyes from the paper and looking out from a window of the Aureon Manor, her eyes grow glassy, reminiscing of his show of affection at her wedding reception.

“He worked tirelessly. He cared. And he protected us all. Tristin, you will be held high among your people, even as someone other than High Prince.”

[Jow__ 40]

A humble Chirr of the Sirame stood with all the dignity he could muster, spear gripped firmly and shield held proudly, for the High Prince as he strode in procession out of the city.

 

May your legacy echo through the hearts of those who've served you, and for generations to come. He thought to himself as he watched on proudly, though in sorrow for Tristin's departure.