The Stag is called to heed.

[Sky 0]

 

 

-

 

Toren Camoryn walks into the Dominion with a dull look upon his face, and meaning behind his deep-sage eyes. The young elf has been through much in his years, but never has he seen what had transpired recently. Without a moments notice, the elf marched before the Queen’s throne and without a care for interrupting, demanded to be heard there and then. As the room slowly went into silence, several members of the audience begun to write down what is said, mostly to send others but a singular one was being paid to write multiple of this, to be sent to every single member of the Caerme’onn seed.

 

“I’ve never been one for speeches, so I will keep this short and sweet. Upon my unattunement, Artimec named me a Caerme’onn in front of many others, I am also a true blooded Camoryn. After hearing of the Chieftain position being handed off, I was hopeful but that hope is now dashed. Caerme’onn’s are not mere mercenaries, we are of the faith, and to join a mercenary group under the pretense of following faith is pure filth. As the only true blooded member left, I proclaim myself the Chieftain of the Caerme’onn seed, and may Cernunnos forever guide me. I also call all true seed members home to the Robin’s Grove. If there is a problem, it’s not hard to find me.”

 

And with that, Toren walked off, with letters flying off on bird-leg moments later.

 

-

 

[TheIchorDruid 1986]

The messenger bird ventured swiftly to the awaiting, old druid  – at first there was an instance of confusion to see the Caerme’onn crest bore upon the parchment. But upon further observation, the contents within revealed itself. The call to return her family to it’s glory days.

 

”Your call has been heard, brother Bull. You have my support.”

 

With that, the lost druid – was lost no more.

[Parker 390]

“It was dishonorable in the first place.. to join with Mercenaries and crooks.” she hissed, her left shoulder was where the bird perched its little feet – right hand beginning to crumple the paper with haste, tossing it only for the bird to pick it up and wander off in some direction south towards the harbor.

[Chase 3793]

Lord Evar'tir Ithelanen raised a brow behind his helm from where he stood next to the Queen as he marched in. He raise his gauntlet to halt the person who was speaking prior, before turning back to Toren as he spoke. Evar'tir said nothing, nodding to the man as he turned and paced off, before gesturing for the interrupted speaker to continue.

[The Elder Eye 101]

”There was a hope that they had all but vanished.”
Another figure stated to themself.

”Some pests aren’t so easily gotten rid of.”

[Slothtastic 761]

“Haven’t you died like eight times now, once when your tree was burned?” Asked a Satyr who kept up with politics. 

[MamaBearJade 2090]

Elawynn reads over the letter and frowns before sending one back in return.

“Uncle Toren, as a granddaughter of Artimec, and follower of the faith, I agree my kin should not be mercineries. I will offer the support I can. Your grandniece, Elawynn Caerme’onn”

 

Lilliana shakes her head at receiving her own letter. She looks to her husband a moment. ”Seems my uncle is still alive, somehow.” She touches the bark on her shoulder, having long since hidden her tattoos. “I think I rather lay here under the sun than return to dominion as of yet.”

[Vindicant 642]

“Glad Toren has shown his spine once more. I’m proud of him.” remarks the local Karyssmov.

[Fireheart 2777]

Lilly would lift the flap of her tent and crouch over as she’d walk inside the small opening. She’d glance around and notice a small piece of folded paper on her desk held shut by a piece of twine. She would cross her legs and sit down on the ground besides her desk as she’d grab onto the letter and pull back the string allowing the piece of paper to unfold. Her eyes would dart along the lines as a small chuckle would be produced from her throat alongside a light smirk at the words. “Guess I’m the scum of this world now.” She’d remark before setting the letter aside and laying down on her back to rest.

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

Glottgut rolls over in his bed.

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

“Toren Camoryn,

 

You are arrogant, hot-headed and foolish to proclaim that you can declare yourself chieftain of ANY seed, let alone Caerme’onn and your claim has been denied. You, who was a Naelurir priest and abandoned both the circle, and the nation of Aspectist faithful you were supposed to guide, to cavort with the Mother Circle. You’ve done little for your people but cause controversy and (supposedly) die repeatedly in the last two hundred years.

 

You have no claim to Cheiftainship of Caerme’onn. The title of chieftain of a seed has never been passed down through bloodline, although a chieftain may pass the title down to his son if he deems it worthy, it goes always to the man or woman most worthy to uphold the values and duties of the tribe. You, are not worthy, nor are you capable.

 

I am both the founder of the modern Caerme’onn and its lifelong chieftain. It was my decision to pass the chieftainship on to Aelin Caerme’onn and that decision is final. I served our people, fought for them and spent my waking hours instilling our traditions in their collective consciousness for centuries while you plotted and schemed in the mother grove. I kept the Seed alive while you spent most of your time divorced from your people, or faking your own death. Aelin has shown initiative and a drive to reinvigorate our traditions and culture, something you never had any desire to do.

 

If you think you have a greater right to choose who gets to be chieftain of our tribe than I do, you are not only insolent, you are delusional. You are an opportunistic scavenger bird. It matters not if our seed are mercenaries, or fishermen, or dollmakers or professional masseuses. So long as Aelin ensures our seed keeps to the Mani, the Aspects and the old traditions she is doing her job, something you have never done.

 

You will renounce your foolish desire for a title you have done nothing to earn.

 

Any other Caerme’onn baring the seeds ilmyumier will renounce their recognition of Toren Camoryn as the Chieftain of the Seed. If they refuse, they will be officially expelled from the seed for treason, their ilmyumier removed and their titles stripped from them and will be branded with the ilmyumier of the snake.

 

I, founder and first Chieftain of Seed Caerme’onn, of whom the right to choose my successor is fully vested, hereby affirm that Aelin Caerme’onn is the rightful cheiftain of our Tribe, and Toren Camoryn is a pretender and a usurper. I hereby affirm that any who support his claim will be considered enemies to the seed, and if they persist in their mission to split the Caerme’onn seed in half, the traitors will be hunted down and dealt with as necessary.

 

Addendum, it matters not where you choose to live, be it Glaedwynn or the Dominion. Whether you are of the Emerald, Sage or Ichorian rites. You may choose freely your form of worship and your home. But you may not claim a title that does not belong to you, nor may anyone support one who claims such a false title.”

 

Regards,

Artimec Caerme’onn

 

 

[Treshure 5818]

An ancient Caerme’onn stirs, ready to annahilate the usurpers and pretenders of his beloved Seed.

[Dromui 755]

Skale gives a thumbs up.

 

“Good stuff, nephew.”

[Publius 4098]

An old elf who’s mind was muddied in his advanced age recalls and forgets several instances he relates to this. His distant and glossy gaze now looked onto the mercenary encampment and saw in them the austere rangers of old, and the hardness of heart they possessed that won the Wood Elves their freedom long ago. From it, he turned towards the Dominion, and pondered on the few High Elven maxims about the importance of civilization and the rigidness of old Malinor that he managed to recall. Perhaps the civilization was too rigid, as it had long since shattered against the forces of deviance.

 

Squinting, he had tears in his eyes as he grit his teeth, but they soon went away as he became aware of his meal. It soon all faded from his thoughts, the forgetful old elf enjoying the simple pleasures of a roast with his friends.

[Guest]

And so that the Alderfolk of the Enclave of Gladewynn took to arranging a meeting to discuss the ill-mannered assertions of the speech in private with the discourse that the forum of the Command Tent assured.