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A Despot in the Making

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A Despot in the Making

 

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[!] A missive would be delivered to the people of Haelun’or by way of eagle. Several of these pamphlets would be dropped haphazardly in the city throughout the day, with one such being delivered to the residence of Elibar’acal

 

From the Residence of Elibar’acal

A Formal Response to a False Tyrant

Ca. 12th of the Amber Cold, 1785

 

 

 

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To One Miss Daerine Elibar’acal and fellow Elibar’acal Talonnii,

 

I would like to extend my thanks to Daerine for such an entertaining missive. I have never laughed as much as I did earlier today. The level of audacity and delusional grandeur claimed by such a ridiculous failure of a missive was much for my mind to comprehend. Though, I will admit that I found it very amusing. Ahernan, for the hearty laugh. Unfortunately, it was a rather foolish waste of your time to write out something that I will not accept in the slightest. My simple answer is that you have no right to call yourself a matriarch of any kind. If you think you have any authority over or respect from me, then I ask you to reconsider. I don’t know how much manipulation and lies you had to tell for anyone to even consider you as a matriarch, let alone actually being one. I hope that you were joking, because I could not take the missive seriously at all!

 

First and foremost, let me point out that you have absolutely no right nor privilege to be an Elibar’acal matriarch. Not only are you impure yourself, we both know that, do not try and lie to the world, but you are also practicing magic. In case you didn’t know, the Elibar’acal talonnii is anti-magic, notoriously so. You practice magic. You seem to have a blatant disregard of family history and customs already. Not to mention that you have married a paladin. I appreciate your desire to be a Laurir, but I think you failed your first lesson. If you'd like to be tutored on talonnii customs and history, feel free to seek me out! You cannot be a mage and consider yourself a proper talonnii member, let alone a matriarch. If you are truly the Laurir as you preach, then Ivoriel was foolish to have handed it to you so carelessly. Better luck next time, I look forward to your next tryout!

 

Truthfully, it was amusing to see the way you referred to the talonnii as yours, when it is not, has not, nor will it ever be yours. That much alone is evident enough that you care not for the talonnii and its preservation, but more for the power and influence it gives you! It’s almost like you’re a predictable one! Then again, despots are usually quite recognizable! They all share that same entitled attitude and behavior! It startled me how quickly you referred to yourself as Laurir of Elibar’acal, almost as if you were seeking to have that title in your grubby hands all along!

 

Before you ever claim any title, please ensure that your missives are formatted neatly! Each paragraph should have one space between them! Of course, it’s not required, but it helps the missive appear neat! Since I’m already lecturing you about the talonnii, I might as well help you write a proper missive, since you appear quite incapable of doing so! It hurt not only my mind to read the missive, but also my eyes. Not only was there a prolific amount of rhetoric and garbage on said missive, but it was absolutely dreadful to read. I implore you to revise your style, llir.

 

You call me an ‘ata, you imply I am impure. Yet you do this merely to hide your own impure and deceitful past. You are no saint, you are no Laurir. You are merely a wretched despot hungry for more and more power. It doesn’t take more than a halfwit to figure that much out. Now, I am no Saint, nor am I claiming to be. I know very well that I am a flawed, and even an impure individual in the eyes of Haelun’or. In case you did not realize, pointing out my own choices, despite your own chosen impurity in the past makes you quite the hypocrite. You have no room to call out others, Daerine. We both know that.

 

The difference between you and I, however, is that I openly admit such, and I push others to be better than myself. You, on the other hand, attempt to find a scapegoat to hide your own sins. My utmost apologies, but I will not be your scapegoat. It’s almost as if you enjoy biting the hand that fed you. It was I that urged your return to Haelun’or. It was I that emphasized and elucidated that you would be forgiven of your past impurity and transgressions. You seem to have no gratefulness for the forgiveness that the Silver State has offered you, and instead seem to be uptight, and entitled. Thinking you’re better than others, when you are obviously just as flawed.  It was myself that recruited the Elibar’acal back to Haelun’or, and pushed for the preservation of the talonnii beliefs and customs after the Revolution. Where were you during this time? Do tell.

 

Tell me. When I was defending Haelun’or from the voidal tear along with my fellow Sillumir, where were you? Oh, that’s right! You were running around being impure! When I was helping rid the city of dark mages, where were you? Being impure. Where were you, in the midst of the countless lives, sweat, and blood that so many people shed for the safety of their Silver State? You were nowhere to be found, indulging yourself in impurity, associating with the enemy. Even as I left Haelun’or, I did not fraternize with the enemy. 

 

You call me an ‘ata when I have spent nearly ninety years in service to the Silver State, helping it in any way I possibly could, devoting my life to it. Of course, I am not pure. But I love my talonnii and its people, I love the ‘thill, whom I also see as family, and I wish to protect them. As far as I’m concerned, your silly purity serves as nothing more than a leash for you to control and choke others, to limit your own development as a civilization. I have never attacked, nor do I ever plan to attack. I am no ‘ata, as you so wrongfully claim. I am a Sillumir, I am a soldier. And regardless of whether or not I am pure, I will always seek to protect others. You, on the other hand, Daerine, may continue to cower behind your walls of silver, you may continue to be lazy and lustful for power. That is your choice. I, on the other hand, look to continue my work serving others to the best of my ability, a true purpose in life. Not to be uptight, not to be haughty and act better than others, but to be humble and sensible to all fellow descendants. Because I know what the greater purpose is, and that is not purity. Division will surely lead to the loss of the realm, and we need all the unity we can get if we wish to combat the inferi tide. Your Haelun’or gossip is really none of my concern.

 

What is my concern, however, is when a tyrant attempts to claim that which is not theirs. When the talonnii is endangered, and the preservation itself is at risk. I am not a blood Elibar’acal, I am not pure. But I know what Azorella would want, and I know she would not spare a single thought for an impure ‘aheral that practices magic to even be considered as matriarch. I know very well I am not worthy enough to take up the mantle as matriarch, and neither are you. You are just so engulfed in your delusions of grandeur and ignorance that you fail to see yourself for as wicked as you truly are. I wasn’t bothering you, nor was I bothering anyone. Thus, I find it oddly coincidental that you took the time to attack me, and target me.

 

I’ll tell you why you did so. You’re just bored, and seeking some entertainment! You just wished to give me a laugh and write something silly, I bet. In all honesty, I really doubt you would be mentally impaired enough to write something as indubitably unbelievable as that! In reality, though it was because you know I would not accept you for one moment. It was because you know how much I care about the talonnii, because you know I am one of the obstacles in your way. You merely wished to try and see me off, as if I would go down easily, that way you could claim power without any opposition. I hate to rain on your parade, but I’m a soldier, and we do not tend to go down easily, especially when we’re protecting that which we love. 

 

Relinquish the title of Laurir. You have done nothing to deserve such an honor. You are not pure, you practice magic. Furthermore, there was no announcement to the talonnii that you had been made Laurir, meaning you circumvented notifying even your own fellow family members. You must have been delusional in the first place to ever have expected respect or recognition from myself. If any ‘thill deserves the matriarch mantle, it would be Maeve Elibar’acal, who has taken care of the mansion, a pure ‘thill that practices no magics, and a paradigm of talonnii beliefs and values. I will recognize no unworthy ‘thill as a matriarch. And you, are in no way worthy. You are not my matriarch. 

 

Since you obviously think anyone can be an Elibar’acal matriarch or patriarch, I hereby disown you from the talonnii with the authority I pulled from my rear end as well! Additionally, Doctor Storm would like to diagnose you with despotism and schizophrenia! As you would have to have something wrong with your head to think I would listen to a word you said! Worry not, Daerine, as this isn’t the first time I have helped talonnii members with their problems, I am more than happy to help you work through your childishness, manipulative attitude, and despotism! With enough help, I promise we can get you the treatment you need!

 

You were foolish to think I would ever take a word of your missive seriously. I do not care for your opinion, for your words, just like I do not care for the opinion of Haelun’or. I have more to do in my life than worry about the opinion of some insignificant speck in the map of Arcas, and their superiority complex. I will continue living my life as my please, and nothing you say or do will interrupt my choices. I will continue carrying the Elibar’acal name, and I will raise my oem’ii to our same standards, with the exclusion of purity. I became disillusioned with such a waste of standards a long time ago. I have a life to live, that does not include caring about you, or respecting the manipulation and lies you propagate. Let that prosper with the sheep of Haelun’or, but it shall stop at my door.

 

Please, do respond when you have any legitimate modicum of authority, or find someone that I will respect as laurir. Until then, I beseech you to sit down, shut up, and cease being a deceitful hypocrite to yourself and those around you. I will not be a sheep like the rest, nor will I listen. And you are no rightful matriarch, merely a fake trying to force your will on others. I do not wish see the talonnii led to ruin, but should your potent hands grasp it, all that has been built will crumble under your carelessness and selfishness. I will never accept an impure and alleged magic user such as yourself as a matriarch. That privilege is reserved for someone far worthier than ourselves.

 

thought I smelled the stench of despotism and gluttony when I awoke this morning. Though I do entreat you to wear some perfume. I could smell your rancid personality from my home. Perhaps from now on, before you try and attack others, you should take a look in the mirror and reflect on yourself.

 

Ay’Azorella

 

Storm Elibar’acal

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Camilla reads the missive “Storm Elibar’acal and the Audacity of this *****.”

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       Beyond the swollen beet fields that took solace by the heartlands of the Elvenfolk, past blue ridge, snow-capped mountains embellished with mist upon their apexes that served hollowed out shelter to the unkempt beards of the Dwarves, one Grishnaakh’Raguk, otherwise known as Pius’Raguk, walked the destitute path of a shamanic monk, one foot bringing itself up from the sands of the Krugmari savannah that resembled a golden fleece amidst trees of jade. With the coming of each step to move forth, his staff of bone and marrow rose with him, its movement akin to the blowing of spruce bark in autumn.

       Past the many wildebeests, and fire and fry that belonged to pariahs not long ago, the elf sat by the gates of San’Azgak, contemplating the very nature of all that surrounded him; the weeds in the grass, and the flow in the wind, and all that fell in between. Either eyes glazed across the contents of the missive, face therein stricken with apathy, whatever could be used to describe a cross between a smirk and a frown drawn across his desolate visage.

”Yonder stands your bastard, set aflame, Golug-hai. Strike another match, start anew; there is no part in continuing to tolerate such filth.”

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Anethra chews on chips, looking to the “Captive” Maheral locked within her dwelling’s underbelly. She looked up, toward the ‘thill of purity, offering the missive over. She waited a brief moment, before finishing swalling her food hastily.

”Ha ha ha. What an idiot. This is why I do ne like the republic – a once mediocre, power-hungry ‘thill- apologies, ‘ata, loses his mind after running for an election he was doomed to lose from the start. Wait – no.” 

The ‘thill paused, nodding vehemently.

”That’s brilliant. How hadn’t I thought of that? Eh- perhaps the success rate is low. Much like the poor – I am unsure what to call him, he’s ne really Elibar’acal anymore. Elf? Even that’s too gracious. Hah.”

She finished, stepping to the countertop to pour herself a few glasses of wine.

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Seth Calith, having picked up a rather long missive from one of the eagle bombers he blinked as he read it on the open streets of Haelun’or. “That monster truely lost it’s mind...” He muttered to himself as he reached partway through the document. “And clearly, terrible slow to reaching his point.” He added as he finished, saving it for the sake of it.

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6 hours ago, SquakHawk said:

Anethra chews on chips, looking to the “Captive” Maheral locked within her dwelling’s underbelly. She looked up, toward the ‘thill of purity, offering the missive over. She waited a brief moment, before finishing swalling her food hastily.

”Ha ha ha. What an idiot. This is why I do ne like the republic – a once mediocre, power-hungry ‘thill- apologies, ‘ata, losse his mind after running for an election he was doomed to lose from the start. Wait – no.” 

The ‘thill paused, nodding vehemently.

”That’s brilliant. How hadn’t I thought of that? Eh- perhaps the success rate is low. Much like the poor – I am unsure what to call him, he’s ne really Elibar’acal anymore. Elf? Even that’s too gracious. Hah.”

She finished, stepping to the countertop to pour herself a few glasses of wine.

 

Storm sips his homemade buttermint tea that morning, having decided to indulge himself into reading. When suddenly, he happens to hear voices upon the wind, almost familiar, in a way. ”Ah, ‘ata. The same, trite term the ‘thill have used to describe anything they don’t like. Really, they ought to come up with a new name, it’s getting quite old, and is horrendously overused by now. Though, they’re usually the ones attacking others, especially verbally, so if anything, I suppose they’re the ‘ata, just too delusional and caught up in their fantastical superiority complex to realize. Ah, how I pity those foolish enough to think they’re better than others.” He would shrug, once more lifting his tea to his lips, continuing his reading into smithing, when he hears another voice

 

1 hour ago, Samler said:

Seth Calith, having picked up a rather long missive from one of the eagle bombers he blinked as he read it on the open streets of Haelun’or. “That monster truely lost it’s mind...” He muttered to himself as he reached partway through the document. “And clearly, terrible slow to reaching his point.” He added as he finished, saving it for the sake of it.

 

Storm chortles as he hears this, almost spitting out his tea. He would put it down for a moment, leaning back in his chair with an impish smile ”Perhaps I ought to point out that you’re actually the closest to losing your mind, Mister Calith. I’m surprised you haven’t done so already, as ancient and slow as you are. Just like I said to Daerine, you shouldn’t to call me a monster when we both know you have most definitely sinned as well, do not try and act innocent. That makes you quite the hypocrite. Furthermore, since you obviously can’t read, let me clarify that my point was mentioned in the first paragraph or two, I merely drew it out in a deliberately long and sarcastic lecture of a missive to ensure that my point was made, and its intention was to draw anger! If that wasn’t blatantly clear, then perhaps you have already lost your mind.” His brows would loft as he lifts his teacup up once more to take a sip, glancing over his reading once more. After finishing the page, he would turn it, an entertained smile upon his features. ”How predictable.”

 

 

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2 hours ago, StormBreaker0520 said:

Storm chortles as he hears this, almost spitting out his tea. He would put it down for a moment, leaning back in his chair with an impish smile ”Perhaps I ought to point out that you’re actually the closest to losing your mind, Mister Calith. I’m surprised you haven’t done so already, as ancient and slow as you are. Just like I said to Daerine, you shouldn’t to call me a monster when we both know you have most definitely sinned as well, do not try and act innocent. That makes you quite the hypocrite. Furthermore, since you obviously can’t read, let me clarify that my point was mentioned in the first paragraph or two, I merely drew it out in a deliberately long and sarcastic lecture of a missive to ensure that my point was made, and its intention was to draw anger! If that wasn’t blatantly clear, then perhaps you have already lost your mind.” His brows would loft as he lifts his teacup up once more to take a sip, glancing over his reading once more. After finishing the page, he would turn it, an entertained smile upon his features. ”How predictable.”

Seth Calith remains unaware that Storm was talking to himself, presumingly in Storm’s home, considering he wasn’t in the streets of Haelun’or to hear Seth.

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Eredael sat tiredly in his study, reading a copy of the missive with an expression crossed between amusement, disappointment, and confusion. A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he paced from his chair, throwing the paper into the hearth and leaving it to burn. “I had not realized the practicing of magic begot impurity, nor the wedding of a paladin. But perhaps five hundred years of literature on Elmaehr’sae Hiylun’ehya and the oral histories even older still are incorrect, and this elf who would forsake Silver and City to revel in lewd hedonism is actually the wisest of us all.”

 

As he returned to his seat that thill’s visage shifted from one subtly entertained to a more pronounced somberness. Indeed, the welling of tears was concealed only by the dimness of candlelight. Woe; for who was once that youth’s hero was now an aching reminder of what one ought not become.

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Study. Research. Grief. These three things had spurred Alice Laurir’ante into her most recent bout of reclusive behavior. Hae'leh kalem'Valah yallre could no longer be used as an excuse, the elfess herself now easily over one hundred years of age. How time flies. She would muse to herself as she filled the teapot, once her mother’s, oh how she had loathed her mother, with warmed water from the fireplace she oft tended to with fervor. A dull ache, spontaneous in nature, stemmed from the bandage that covered her left eye, or rather, the sunken hole left from where her mother had carved the impure feature from her face at an early age. Oh, how she still loathed her mother. The intrusive thoughts were swiftly interrupted by the sudden cold. 

 

The fire. She thought to herself with some semblance of horror to her normally stoic features. Stumbling from her self-isolation, Alice would arrive at Haelun’or once more. A stinging burn to her throat, a sense of shame for her parent’s actions so long ago. What did my parents look like again? She waved the thought away as one might a fly, they were gone, most likely dead, and she was the last of their line. Her sister had vanished with them, after all, their oh so beloved child. But, she reminded herself, I restored some honor to our name. She didn’t. I’m welcome within the Silver City once more. They aren’t. 

 

A small smile graced the Mali’Aheral’s features for a brief moment before a stoic frown formed once more. She shivered, chided herself for letting her weight fall so low as her teeth chattered. A piece of paper, written in essay format, found its way to her feet. Fate, she mused to herself as she collected several similar papers from the roads within the city. This will help restart my fire! She’d almost laugh to herself. Almost, that is, for she would soon read the contents of the letter. Her stoic frown slipped, albeit slowly, into a deeper grimace.

 

”Isn’t this the same ‘ata who declared his hate for high elves and all things pure a while back? He race mixed and now he complains when his impurity gets him removed from the house which he has no right to claim?” She’d ask this of a nearby High Elf, generic in frame and appearance. They would soon be forgotten to the elfess, as most were, but for the moment she lingered, waiting for their response. It never came, she had spoken too softly. Brow pinched between index and thumb, Alice let out a small sigh. She would linger here for several moments in hope someone else would, perhaps, have heard her soft inquiry, and give a response. 

Edited by rukio

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24 minutes ago, Setriel said:

Eredael sat tiredly in his study, reading a copy of the missive with an expression crossed between amusement, disappointment, and confusion. A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he paced from his chair, throwing the paper into the hearth and leaving it to burn. “I had not realized the practicing of magic begot impurity, nor the wedding of a paladin. But perhaps five hundred years of literature on Elmaehr’sae Hiylun’ehya and the oral histories even older still are incorrect, and this elf who would forsake Silver and City to revel in lewd hedonism is actually the wisest of us all.”

 

As he returned to his seat that thill’s visage shifted from one subtly entertained to a more pronounced somberness. Indeed, the welling of tears was concealed only by the dimness of candlelight. Woe; for who was once that youth’s hero was now an aching reminder of what one ought not become.

 

The specter of Storm would remain throughout his former home, his presence almost like a perpetual backdrop to the familiar quartz walls and hallways. He would chuckle at Eredael’s words ”It seems you still have much to learn, oem’ii. You failed to pay attention to the missive, it seems. There was a clear distinction demonstrated in the missive between family beliefs and that of purity. Both were separately addressed. The magic and marrying of a paladin go against the talonnii beliefs, which are rather anti-magic. On the other hand, Daerine is very obviously an impure individual. Fear not, youngling. Despite your boundless knowledge, I assume you were never quite fully educated on talonnii matters, a failure of my own, I admit. Though, perhaps you ought to get your head out of Elmaehr’sae hiylun’ehya and ‘thill literature and truly expose yourself to the world. Common sense dictates that no progress, no knowledge can be gained from staying in place, embracing stagnation. True progress and knowledge is gained by exposing yourself to outside information and cultures. If that is what you want to label as hedonism, that is your own failure, not mine.”

 

”Furthermore, you are not one to preach about forsaking Silver and City, when you ‘thill are the ones that willingly opened the gates to an ancient enemy, inviting them in, and endangering the entirety of the culture and history you ‘thill have built to preserve. Elmaehr’sae hiylun’ehya would have taught you that the ‘thill are independent and need not the protection of others. You all chose to forsake silver the minute you chose to bend the knee to a historical enemy, and place yourself under another. Continue to cower behind your silver walls, continue to embrace the laziness, fear, and paranoia. I, on the other hand, will choose to continue to work for the better.”

4 minutes ago, rukio said:

Study. Research. Grief. These three things had spurred Alice Laurir’ante into her most recent bout of reclusive behavior. Hae'leh kalem'Valah yallre could no longer be used as an excuse, the elfess herself now easily over one hundred years of age. How time flies. She would muse to herself as she filled the teapot, once her mother’s, oh how she had loathed her mother, with warmed water from the fireplace she oft tended to with fervor. A dull ache, spontaneous in nature, stemmed from the bandage that covered her left eye, or rather, the sunken hole left from where her mother had carved the impure feature from her face at an early age. Oh, how she still loathed her mother. The intrusive thoughts were swiftly interrupted by the sudden cold. 

 

The fire. She thought to herself with some semblance of horror to her normally stoic features. Stumbling from her self-isolation, Alice would arrive at Haelun’or once more. A stinging burn to her throat, a sense of shame for her parent’s actions so long ago. What did my parents look like again? She waved the thought away as one might a fly, they were gone, most likely dead, and she was the last of their line. Her sister had vanished with them, after all, their oh so beloved child. But, she reminded herself, I restored some honor to our name. She didn’t. I’m welcome within the Silver City once more. They aren’t. 

 

A small smile graced the Mali’Aheral’s features for a brief moment before a stoic frown formed once more. She shivered, chided herself for letting her weight fall so low as her teeth chattered. A piece of paper, written in essay format, found its way to her feet. Fate, she mused to herself as she collected several similar papers from the roads within the city. This will help restart my fire! She’d almost laugh to herself. Almost, that is, for she would soon read the contents of the letter. Her stoic frown slipped, albeit slowly, into a deeper grimace.

 

”Isn’t this the same ‘ata who declared his hate for high elves and all things pure a while back? He race mixed and now he complains when his impurity gets him removed from the house which he has no right to claim?” She’d ask this of a nearby High Elf, generic in frame and appearance. They would soon be forgotten to the elfess, as most were, but for the moment she lingered, waiting for their response. It never came, she had spoken too softly. Brow pinched between index and thumb, Alice let out a small sigh. She would linger here for several moments in hope someone else would, perhaps, have heard her soft inquiry, and give a response. 

 

A hooded figure nearby would grin at Alice’s words, shrugging lightly ”I would like to see evidence for your claims that I ever said any of that, in the past. To me, it seems like you are merely making up whatever happens to be on your mind. Of course, I think every ‘aheral that Haelun’or hates is accused of declaring hatred for high elves and purity at one point or another. Perhaps you should think of something new. And whilst you’re doing that, I’m sure you can come up with something other than the overused word ’ata, as it merely reflects the own sheep-like mentality that most have. I am not claiming any rights, merely reminding another that they should not act like they are any better, when they are just as impure. Perhaps you ought do your research?”

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25 minutes ago, rukio said:

”Isn’t this the same ‘ata who declared his hate for high elves and all things pure a while back? He race mixed and now he complains when his impurity gets him removed from the house which he has no right to claim?” She’d ask this of a nearby High Elf, generic in frame and appearance. They would soon be forgotten to the elfess, as most were, but for the moment she lingered, waiting for their response. It never came, she had spoken too softly. Brow pinched between index and thumb, Alice let out a small sigh. She would linger here for several moments in hope someone else would, perhaps, have heard her soft inquiry, and give a response. 

Seth’s tall frame watched a moment, notiving the other non-descript elf apparently didn’t hear her. “I sounds very much like it to do so. It is sadly, an old circle which repeats now. An impure, explicitly cast away, acts up and claims everyone else are the impures. This, is not the first time.” He elderly elf paused and sighed. “Nor will it be the last.”

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Ciliren sits in her workshop, where she had taken the rather lengthy missive, and wondered aloud as she worked, "A very strange thing to put out, indeed. He reiterates his point a multitude of times, how many times will he tell us that she's a despot mage?" She takes a few moments to adjust a gear, before continuing aloud, "Strange to see him lay such claims to a name he'd scream at you for calling him a mere twenty years ago. Strange indeed. Hopefully Daerine need not bother with this rather.. unhinged man again."

 

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19 hours ago, StormBreaker0520 said:

The specter of Storm would remain throughout his former home, his presence almost like a perpetual backdrop to the familiar quartz walls and hallways. He would chuckle at Eredael’s words 

A paladin of Xan runs a covert operation into Haelun’or specifically to eradicate this specter! It is no more, wrought from the world by way of holy valour.

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A secretary enters the Okarir’tir’s office with a copied missive in hand, passing it off to the mali as he raised an inquisitive brow to the contents. After but a moment of study his features twist into an apprehensive grimace, and he sits back to read it in the sanctity of his office- where no inexplicable presence of Storm would have any chance to hear him.

 

As he reads his features show increasing levels of disdain and bafflement, ending up with his forehead resting in a palm and a disturbed stare affixed down to the long missive, tapping a finger upon its surface. To the secretary that lingers, he laments, “He... He’s truly gone mad, hasn’t he? These are the ravings of a madman,” while continuing to scan over the contents. A loud scoff soon escapes him and he leans back, leering down at the paper as both arms fold over his chest, “A Sillumir, a soldier? Perhaps once, but surely no longer. I offered him the chance to rejoin when I was elected, to lead them at my side even, and he declined. What gall he has, knowing and acknowledging his own impurity, to tarnish our name like that.”

 

Once finished reading, he hands the missive off to his secretary and lets out a huff, head shaking, “Stranger still, isn’t it, that in one breath he derides Daerine for impurity, uses it to try and condemn her, and then in the next states that purity is a flawed and misguided concept to begin with. The man really must make up his mind, you cannot claim the folly of an idea and then proceed to weaponize it.” The Okarir sweeps his hands through his hair before waving the secretary off with a muttered, “Burn it, and all others you find. I’ll tolerate no such blemish to the Sillumiran name.”

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