For Clarification

[Stump 709]

 

Many hand-written copies of a letter were affixed with a nail in all the settlements below, having been deemed ‘easily accessible’ and ‘having of a notice board, or otherwise improvised’ by a trio of Elves, specifically a friend or two and their disgruntled yet extremely insistent gray escort.

• Helena
• Reza
• Brannby Bank
• Ves
• Curon
• Fenn
• Irrinor
• Krugmar
• Talus Druid Grove
• Sutica
• Cresonia
• Thyra
• Brandybrook
• Llyria
• Agnarum
• Haelun’or

 

The missive itself seemed to handle a personal affair- Yet it began with an over-sized heading, scrawled obnoxiously in blue-black ink. Evidently, the author was looking for a particular pair of eyes that may not have otherwise noticed.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR8D2yqgQ1U

One is seeking Mr. Sullas.

Dear Passerby,

 

With luck, this has been enough to attract more than the curious reader. Or, perhaps it is appropriate that the reader is curious, because it is a quizzical Elf that one is looking for.
One digresses.
 

The Author of this public letter has been somewhat overzealous, and surmised that a well-written speech and a two-century old private confession from one’s blond ‘father’ would prove legitimacy. As it happens, the integrity of a more obscure citizen of Haelun’or does not hold up well on its own.

Indeed, a legitimacy issue. One shall briefly summarize for the public eye.
Haelun’or prides itself on recording their lineage upon a very old book, and one has a mind not to be made a liar when scribing the Bloodline onto its weathered pages.

 

However, the Author is encountering an issue whereupon a relation has been drawn a little too late, and things have taken a turn for the embarrassing. Once a blunder, always a blunder, one supposes. The question that must be posed, without revealing too much as to why it must be asked is thus: Lucion Sullas, have you a fifth progeny? Could this thing have been born from Aelia Calith?

Sincerest apologies from the Author themselves, for one would be this thing, and this a letter penned to the progenitor of the unfortunate whelpling that may have been a result from this encounter.
 

This brings an additional petition, in the event that this is to be declared as truth. If one is the whelp, would Mr. Sullas accept it into his Bloodline? Indeed, a bold question, but one would argue that if Mr. Sullas has gone through the trouble of bringing one back into the Haelun’or in the past as a rescued pup; then it could be assumed that there was some wish to accept it, and have it thrive.

 

Luckily, it has. One has sired three already with Mr. Ikur Seregon, and as these letters are being drafted for personal couriering and posting about the continent- hopefully at no detriment to the thing- one is carrying a fourth to be born. As they are an investment of the Author, one would like to extend the offer for them to also be your investment should it be appropriate, Mr. Sullas.
 

It is well known that tragedy has been rife in your blood, and with no disrespect to them, one thinks that this could be the least one could do to give back to the sire. A legacy, a terrifying and yet hopeful unknown. To be sure, Mr. Sullas already has a legacy worth having in his own achievements, but perhaps this might shoulder some of the burden one day. Or, perhaps they will all perish- for that is the gamble.

 

If the idea is to your liking, the Author and their husband’s line of Seregon is to instead be Sullas, and if the opposite is true, no resentment is harbored. One will persist regardless of surname, for this is not a petty play for respect. One desires the truth, for it has been in turns swiped from the grasp and given back as lies over the years.

One is sure Mr. Sullas understands, but no sympathy is expected. Should this whole affair displease you entirely, an honor it will still be to be turned away by you.

If any of the public is still reading, one imagines you are confused. Please turn away now, the show is over.

 

Persistence in the face of ignorance.

Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya

 

Thy Author, Aiera

9th of The Amber Cold, 1724

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsuY9lHxg88

 

Spoiler

((Wow, all right! So. Those of you who got through this post and aren’t Mithradites, congratulations! I’ve more or less wasted your time. This is basically a private letter, but publicly. The poor kid didn’t know where to send her fan mail! Additionally, I spent about six hours today wandering around Arcas and roleplaying putting up these letters. For no reason in particular, I might add. I’m not really concerned about advertising this, it was written for one person. 

I was bored, I hadn’t been outside Helf-land in weeks, and so I did it. Instead of writing ‘notice is posted in all nations,’ I just did it. I went and posted it in all the settlements I could get to, inside and then roleplay assaulting their notice board or tavern wall with a foreign letter that had nothing to do with anyone else.
Because that’s basically what happens when someone writes that it’s posted everywhere anyway, right? Why not! I put me and my friends through the reality of those brave couriers who suffer every time a post is made map-wide.

And it was really fun! I had a whole bunch of interesting encounters along the way.
I will say that I didn’t leave a sign in most of these places though, because I actually care about my mental health a little bit. Waiting for fourteen separate modreqs (the additional two of 16 total visits I was able to put down) to put an irrelevant sign down for one post for no reason wasn’t sitting well with me as an idea.

 

You’re welcome, @Mithradites I have now publicly menaced (all except the outer edges and wilds of) the entire map by infringing on their settlements and sticking up a letter about your boy.
I hope you like it.))

 

[Etherealxx 232]

Lubok’Lak rips the letter off of the Krugmar notice board, reading over it. “Da zkah iz diz?” he’d then hand it over to Grog’Gorkil to inhale.

[Stump 709]

The letter likely tasted of delicious walnuts and the fragrant background of raspberries, in the form of a delectably fiberous parchment.

 

It was also very likely to contain cobalt or some other dangerous blue pigment from the ink. Hopefully it passed through the mighty Olog stomach gracefully.

 

@Etherealxx

[gaurdman 61]

Grog belches, happily surprised by the quality of the meal, and thanks to his robust digestive and immune system he processes the otherwise harmful mineral without incident.

[Ankan 2875]

Sohaer Dimaethor Visaj stood tall in the middle of the Haelunorian square in all his imperialism and opulence, gems in his circlet, cane and pin glimmering brightly in the light of the cold moon. As he read the letter, his lips were drawn short, his fingers moving uneasily over the dazzling diamond in the apex on his cane. He smiled, though subtly, but he smiled.

 

“I can only hope the dear Malaurir Lucion Sullas will hear his daughter’s call, and bring clarity to the Sullas. She deserves the truth.”

[Mithradites 1168]

Upon a warm afternoon, nearly a week after the letters have all been distributed hither and thither by a certain inquisitive elf, Aiera would find a bird tapping at her bedroom window. The animal in question is both ragged and breathless, but through the dirt and muck upon its feathers it may have once been a pristine white dove. Whatever long journey it had it was clearly in no rush to return, and it weakly presents a tattered-looking letter tied around its leg. In faded ink, its pages reads as thus--

 

“To Ms Aiera, or to whomever else this letter may find. I am hoping this aging creature will at the very least make it to the city. 

 

I will admit, I am surprised to have been presented this rather widely-distributed letter by one of my short-lived associates. The fellow was quite embarrassed much to my confusion, but having read it all is very clear. I will address not only yourself, but also others who may learn the contents of this response--something as important as one’s bloodline will require official sanction no doubt. Provided the local tyrants are still operating things properly (A leader who is both Maheral and Sohaer? Why not call him King as well, since the citizenry seem so utterly apathetic as to entrust their future to a single Mali’thill!). 

 

As Maheral, I preferred to tell citizens little stories and anecdotes when they requested wisdom from me. One finds them easier to digest, and it allows for differing interpretations, debates, and lively, intellectual growth. Before I give my answer to your question, first I will tell a story.

 

Asulon is a name so old I almost have trouble remembering it. The Cihi’thilln of that time is shrouded similarly in my memory, but certain features I can still recall. I remember the great red structure that dominated its centre--once promised to the Mage’s Guild but left empty. I remember the quartet of towers that made up the inn and its charmingly amateurish construction. I remember the ancient buildings that stood atop the Eternal College undisturbed for countless centuries.

 

Events, too, stick clearly in my mind. Ones that had great significance to myself.

 

I remember conjuring forth electricity for the first time, using nothing but rare, refined metals and years of research. I remember dissecting my first living being, and the emotional rush of discovery and fascination. I remember my wife’s lifeless eyes as she lay in a pool of blood, and the black, unfamiliar rage I felt when her murderer was pardoned. Not things I recall in clarity are positive, sadly. And an ‘encounter’ with Aelia Calith I do indeed recall.

 

I remember it was some time prior to Seth and Aelia Calith’s wedding. They had publicly announced their engagement at the very least, and I was similarly engaged with my biological research at the time. After my wife’s violent passing, weddings always pushed me deeper into my laboratory to escape the usual joviality. One faithful day I had come across a fascinating discovery--one that unfortunately eludes my memory at present. I felt impassioned to inform my fellow citizens with a physical example of my findings, and as my focus was biology, you can imagine it a very messy prospect. It was a much sharper, edgier, period in our people’s history, and such things were not entirely unusual. From me, anyway.

 

Most of the citizens who encountered me at the time expressed their confusion and disgust at my need to share this discovery in such a way. One person, however, showed considerable concern for my well-being and followed me back to my laboratory to both keep an eye on me and aid me in my manic state. Ms Aelia helped clean the blood from my hands and coat and we discussed my work at length. She showed sympathy, warmth, and a gentleness I had not felt since my beloved Celia was taken from me. I will spare you the sordid details of what came to be in our seclusion.

 

But needless to say, I took her passionately upon my dissection table.

 

Long, and involved as it was, it was a single instance. I came to my senses quickly afterwards, and the grave mistake that it was. I did my best to avoid the woman from then on. Seth Calith, shrewd as he was, seemed to suspect something had occurred. His suspicions turned to outright accusations upon your birth. Both he and his wife were blond of hair, yet his daughter’s head was white as driven snow. I remember surprisingly little of my biological research all these centuries on, but one does not need to be scientist to recognize a discrepancy of this magnitude.

 

I frankly refused to acknowledge it. I was barely past my first century of life when this all occurred. A single dalliance between elves leading to pregnancy? Utterly absurd. A single child every few decades was a blessing. I think I was in denial, despite knowing my line had an unusual potency-- I myself was a third child, after all. I refused consider your lineage even when I reintroduced you to Mali’aheral society after your unfortunate absence.

 

Guilt is a powerful motivator many ‘righteous’ Mali’aheral are privy to. I washed myself of my sins both physical and mental in Asulon’s Golden Pools, but one’s conscience cannot be so easily cleansed. I am sure it may amuse certain dirty, ignorant sorts to hear me claim this, but humility is not something Mali’aheral should shy from, nor are strangers to.

 

To answer your question--are you my progeny? It appears to be likely. On this issue I desire closure. Should there be any doubt in the hearts and minds of your peers, I recognize and declare you my child. Take my name, should you desire it. 

 

You were not the daughter I sought, but certainly one worth having.

 

Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya, and dilligence in the face of ignorance, oem’ii.

 

-L. Sullas

Okarir’indor, Tilruir, Sohaer, Maheral, Father of Five.”

[Stump 709]

Aiera Sullas sits somewhere in her own home, mortified. Her letter had reached its intended destination, and the situation was concluded.

Yet.. At what cost? Her innocence, it seemed.
When she was done with her weeping, she began to face the music of what she’d done, and what must now be done.
 

Spoiler

((Just a brief conclusion to the posts. Please don’t meta-game Lucion’s letter, everyone! It’s VERY.. Private!))

 

[osumanduas 1442]

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

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.