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The Prince of Mali'Ker


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The Prince of Mali'Ker

 

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(In the Isilioleth, a prospective Elder is draped in a crimson cloak- a symbol of power and status.
When the ceremony ends, it is cut and fashioned to be worn across the shoulder)

 

Zaniil Isilioleth let out a drawn sigh as his scarlet gaze looked upon the Horizon, to the many tents and totems that comprised the Warhawke region. In a moment of reflection, his eyes drank in the colours that swirled against the backdrop of the sky, his eyes sinking lightly as a smile lifted his visage. He threw down the wooden post that was slung over his shoulder, sinking it into the earth. It appeared to have a parchment and a strand of red silk already nailed to it, which wafted in the humid air.

 

The 'Ker took a step back, procuring a pipe that was previously clipped to his belt. He lit it as his eyes perused over the text. The same post would be seen in the District of Velunor, wafting in the sea breeze.

 


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It is with this post that I, Zaniil Isilioleth declare myself the Prince of all Mali'ker.

 

I state this with the confidence of my Clansmen and my Ancestors, the hand of the Spirit Realm resting upon my shoulder.

It is not up for debate, nor contestation, for the Isilioleth are a breed you have not known, but will come to recognise.

 

The 'Ker, our people, (regardless of affiliation) have suffered the cruel barb of time and its sting of separation. We are the gifts of Luara, yet we do not honour her, nor Kor.

I am tired- tired of the mediocrity that plagues our people. What have we become but a disheveled, disordered and insignificant mark on the worlds stage?

 

I say this not with malice, but with the love of our people in my blood.

It is time for change.

 

Let us mend our wounds, Brothers and Sisters.

Let us convene.

 

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Aerith would nod, thinking a bit upon hearing the news. "This will be quite interesting. Ancestors watch over him." He would then return to dealing with all the paperwork on his table.

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Erolas Ba'ikana yawns as he sits in the bokolo fields smoking his green "How can you declare yourself prince of the ker if you are not backed by the mali'ker clans?" he'd ponder to himself

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Lavreth Ryvienne would be retiring on a island but would get the letter and would say to himself "And todays winner for biggest moron goes to this man, One does not simply declare themselves a 'prince'" He'd shake his head and throw the letter away

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"That title belongs to the Warhawkes. This declaration means nothing when nobody recognizes it," a certain Snow Elf dryly notes. "Foolish."

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A spirit smiles.

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Arveldir Des’Nox scoffs and laughs, “And what clans does he have backing him to make the claim as the prince of mali’ker? Was it the Uuthilini? Certainly not the Des’Nox, not to my knowledge. You’ve done nothing but stride in here and claim to know better, to be better. Truth is, you’re only more numerous, and taking advantage of that fact. Give it time, soon your family will fade to nothing once more and so will your petty self-proclaimed title. Even the Warhawkes have a better claim to the title than you do. Your pride will eat you up, Isilioleth.” 

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Please... just no "Bolon state while shaking his head" We don't need another bloody person calling themselves a prince in this realm.

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Mawloc Othan would step from his tent and up the short stairwell to the cliffside overlooking the whole city. As a courier had brought him the small letter, he'd read through it with a raised brow. As he'd fold the piece of paper and stuff it into his pocket, he began to speak loud enough for his voice to echo throughout the city.

"Once more, brother and sisters, have we an individual wishing to lay claim over our people as a whole. A single ruler to tell you what it is you can and cannot do. What your beliefs should and should not be. Yet claims what he says has no ill intent. Yet... You are not free to challenge the said individual. Nor do you have a choice?" he'd shake his head as he'd pause. 

 

"A man, not a prince, wishes to rule over you and I as if we were dogs. Used only in times when others of Atlas need our aid and quickly tossed to the side. This man has failed to see what we have accomplished here. What all other Mali'ker before us have failed to do. We've brought peace among our brothers and sisters. We brought change from being castaways and dogs of petty wars to being a group of prosperity not only for the Mali'ker, but for all who seek it within our walls." he'd merely sigh.

"Where was this man when the Valah sought to destroy us? Where was this man when even our own brothers and sisters of the Dominion aided the valah in their attempts at ridding us from society entirely? Who helped fight the hordes of Bortu when the grand kingdom of Urguan had turned its back on one of its longest standing ally? This man was no where to be found during all those times of destruction. Yet wishes to show up in the time of peace? Making claims our people have sunk to nothing? Does that not say anything to anyone? We've prospered from the old ways and this man wishes to put us back. If this man wished for peace and prosperity, he'd have spoken to the long standing Des'nox and the Warhawkes before making all these false claims. This man wants nothing more but to force you all to bend your knees yet again for someone whom has done NOTHING to better our people. A man who's attempting to divide us yet again and destroy all the hard work we've done for our people.

 

If it is peace and prosperity he seeks, then he may speak with the Chieftess accordingly. Rather than make false claims that are not recognized."

 

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"A 'Ker who sees Dominion as his home was either forced into it or brainwashed by the 'ame. We cannot have two princes of the 'Ker. Erolas Ba'ikana is the only 'Ker prince." Angren would say as he'd lift his feet onto the table inside the Reiver Tower, sipping on some Kat Daddy Bourbon

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After reading one of the posts a certain pale elfess decides she can make some money off this. 

Recruiting some of her kin to help her they set up shop outside both the Dominion's 'ker district and Warhawke region. From the back of a small wagon Xirena and her family offer a limited edition shirt with 'Not my Prince' written across it. Only 15 minas! 

 

When asked how she seriously feels about the declaration Xirena has this to say. 

"Personally I thought it was stupid when he waltzed into Velu-whatever and started taking over. Grabbing and taking what you want? That's how a savage acts, not a civilized elf. Now look! He states there can be no debate nor contest? So what, he's gonna intimidate or force the other 'ker into following him? Ridiculous... For a limited time you can let all those around you know how you feel! Buy one of our quality tops, made with only the finest materials! We even have a tabard version coming soon!" 

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7 minutes ago, Aelsioln said:

After reading one of the posts a certain pale elfess decides she can make some money off this. 

Recruiting some of her kin to help her they set up shop outside both the Dominion's 'ker district and Warhawke region. From the back of a small wagon Xirena and her family offer a limited edition shirt with 'Not my Prince' written across it. Only 15 minas! 

 

I love this.

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"Not my prince. We don't need a prince, we are no humans." Said a Blue haired Dark Elf, a black haired Dark Elf and a Wraith with emotional problems.

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