In the Eye of the Storm

[Areon 947]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOmzFUYez3I

 

 

The waves collide with the hull of the Athri’ker as the company of Div’cruan aspirants sallied about the deck, their agile hands moving to rig masses and assist with manning the ship. The sky roared with thunderous fury as lightning crackled and the smell of sulfur broke the air, the rough seas prompting the weaker-willed to take refuge within the bowels of the great seafaring vessel.

 

As the intensity of the storm lessened at midnight, the captain of the vessel called out to his passangers while gesturing to the clearing skies with excitement, moonlight shining within their bright irises as lips moved into determined grins as taut as the rope aboard their ship. An omen from their gods. “Velulaei watches us tonight, cousins. Though perhaps too late for the benefit of our people,” said the former Prince Ganzorig Vincrute, his amber-eyed gaze moving to the crashing waves as he continued to speak, “The Dominion of Malin was formed on the basis of elven unity. Yet it was the principle that the foundation of the Old Dominion that it was formed by the unanimous unification of the High Elves, Dark Elves, and Wood Elves. The mali’ame show no interest in holding faith in the treaties made by the forefathers of our once great nation.”  Ganzorig declared boldly as he turned to face the men and women of the Div’cruan who had gathered around him as he spoke.

 

“We have lost unity amidst the Bronze Rebellion, amidst the murder of Elvenking Abelas Sa’Roir. Our government watched as our king was slain before us by a dwarven interloper at the grudging behest of one Belestram Sylvaeri, a failed prince of self-proclaimed Elvenesse.” He practically spat now, growing more torrential and bold by the minute. “There has been no proper representation for our people, case and point. Majority of these kings have been impetuous faeries with no mind for politics, risking war with the Empire and involving us in human affairs. I say no more!”  

 

“The feuding seeds of the Mali’ame remain sowing dissent from their hallowed halls, they have ignored us. They have replaced us with the pursuit of vanity and stuck us on the docks to rot and die! I say we take to the seas, that we take ourselves to freedom that no failed dominion can grant us. The Treaty of Laureh’lin no longer stands, it has been violated by it’s own very proponents since even before the rebellion, and the Mali’ker-- us-- have suffered for their indulgences! We are collateral of their romance with foreign conquerors and foolhardy paleskins!”

 

“It is time to call forth our people once again of our own volition and resettle ourselves where we belong. Our sacred vigil, leading us into a new light, and perhaps new kindred among men and women we once viewed as enemies of our people. I pronounce us the Sable Enclave of Vira’ker-- our Onyx Vigil begins now unending-- from this time until the end of times!”

 

[Mandalore1 100]

Darman listens on as his Hierarch speaks, nodding in agreement at his speech. He too had lost much in the Rebellion and was glad to be among like-minded kinsmen.

[Fid 566]

Belestram laughs a big, hearty laugh and wonders how long this Dark Elven state will limp along before either folding beneath another, stronger group or simply fading from existence.

 

[Criala 729]

_{The intensity of the storm was unsettling. With each crack of lightning and roar of thunder, there was a slight grimace from the elfess. It was loud, and each time the waves crashed against the hull of the ship, Ele’ira cast an uneasy glance to Ganzorig. But, no matter how bad the storm got, she remained on the deck, not too far from his side. As the storm finally began to die down, and the moonlight broke through, a long strand of her white hair began to glow a brilliant pale blue. The blessing she'd gotten from Luara so long ago. She clasped her hands behind her back, listening as Ganzorig began to speak. Either and there, she gave a nod of agreement. As his speech finished, she smiled. "Until the end of times." She murmured, more to herself than anyone else.}

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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