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LAMENTING THE LOSS OF OUR SOHAER


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LAMENTING THE LOSS OF OUR SOHAER

10th of The Deep Cold, 28 S.A.

 


To the Blessed Citizenry of Haelun’or, I write to you now with great sorrow. Our Esteemed Sohaer, Othelu Orrar, passed away this morning. He had been gripped by fever for many elven weeks, forced to govern from his bed. We all wished for his recovery, but regrettably he succumbed to his illness, surrounded by those in which he placed his trust throughout his tenure, the Silver Council.

 

Othelu Orrar shall be remembered for his magnanimity and tireless dedication to the State, even up to his last breath he thought only of us. His accomplishments were many, but his most notable was rescuing the state from the claws of the faux-republic. So deep rooted was the republican rot, that Othelu sought to rebuild the state quite literally brick by brick. This new city in which we dwell is an enduring monument to his legacy and our salvation.

 

It would be very remiss of me not to mention his diplomatic and military successes, which we owe to his steadfast determination to stand up for the integrity of Haelun’or and his unwillingness to back down in the face of injustice. He rebuilt our esteemed sillumir, repelled orcish and bandit incursions, eradicating all who sought conflict. Such success has ensured we have gone without any altercations for three years. Externally, Othelu was able to lead the charge against Elvenesse which forced them into humble submission, all without sustaining a single friendly casualty. He also notably oversaw the downfall of the Sutican leadership through similar means. Following the years of wars the blessed state fought, the Sohaer was still able to establish a good diplomatic standing with nations such as Elvenesse and the Holy Orenian Empire, both of which the state had been at odds with just a short while prior. Such accomplishments are what helped the state thrive during such tenuous times. Such leaders are always sought but rarely found.

 

As we enter into a period of mourning, we must remember that the most fitting tribute to our lost Sohaer is to continue in his footsteps and collectively strive for an ever prosperous Haelun’or.

As senior Medi’ir and chosen successor, the role has fallen to me, a role which I assume with a heavy heart. In the shadow of such an accomplished Sohaer I can simply declare that my reign shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great Silver State to which we all belong.

 


 

lomian’onn

maehr’sae hiylun’ehya

Signed,

 

Sohaer, Kolvar Uradir

Medi'ir, Kiljarys an Iarwain

Okarir'maehr, Valindra Viradiraar

Okarir'sil, Zelios Viradiraar

Okarir'tir, Thalon Nullivari

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The Okarir'maehr stood solemnly beside the deathbed of the Sohaer, knowing well that nothing could be done other than lessen Othelu's pain at the time. As he took his final breath, Valindra lowered her gaze. She'd been silent throughout her entire visit other than offering the now-deceased man her sincere thanks for both his service to the state and his trust in her.

 

She had truly thrived under the late Sohaer's tenure, gone from an outsider, to a citizen, to a corporal, and then to an Okarir, a position she hadn't known she'd wanted until she accepted the role of the Guardian of Knowledge. It was Othelu who welcomed her into the city, recommended her for a position of tilruir, who, thanks to his genorosity, had allowed for her to find a place she truly felt welcome, a place where she'd later marry the man she'd grown to love. For the first time in centuries, Valindra Viradiraar, felt truly safe, secure in a place she'd never thought she'd ever call home.

 

Upon leaving the citadel, the elfess held up a stoic facade until she'd reached the garden atop her family's manor, whereupon she exhaled a  shaky sigh as her karin, Ondolemar took to her side. She ran her hand over the feline, sitting upon the swing that hung from the ceiling.  She owed this man for the lifestyle he'd granted her through his kindness, but what could she do? The 'thill was already renowned throughout Almaris, had streets named in his honor, and would be remembered for centuries to come as one of the most successful leaders elcihi'thlln had ever known. 

 

It finally dawned upon her when  she lay awake in her bed beside her husband that night. Othelu already had a legacy, though it was down to her, her councilmen and the entire 'thill populace to ensure it continued and prospered. To honor her departed llir, Valindra would continue to aid in Haelun'or's endeavors. But first, a send-off for the Sohaer had to be arranged. Rising up and out of bed without a word, the 'thill silently made her way towards the study. For now, mourning had to wait, for her at least. There was much to be done. 

 

With her faith now placed in the new Sohaer, Kolvar Uradir, the elf, in the dead of night, began to write, draft plans of what was to come for the Silver State.

 

Othelu's time in Almaris had been short, but a long lasting legacy would be established.

 

Spoiler

Caelria, thank you for bringing us so many good times during your own in Haelun'or. The nation has not been this successful for years, and with your leadership, we managed to revive it. You'll be missed, but it was an absolute pleasure to help out with Haelun'or with you. Wherever you decide to go to next, I think it goes without saying that we of Haelun'or and many others wish you all the best.

 

Iverach, you've come so far from when I first met you. I can't picture a better person to lead Haelun'or. You're already off to a great start and I can't wait to see what will come from your tenure as Sohaer. 

 

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"The great Sohaer is dead, long live the Sohaer," a high elf says with a bitter and sad tone of acceptance

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Haskir read over the missive. He had no words. Plucking the Othelu Dollar from his pocket, it shimmered as he turned it over within his palm. A frown settled across his visage before he returned it to its place.

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“So perishes an elf worth living for. It is a shame I was not able to die for him.”

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"About damn time," The 'aheral started as she sat in her llir's druii garden with her two children. "We are free from the Orrar times, oem'ii. We can finally go back home." Syllana smiled as she told her children that. Nothing made her happier than the thought of returning to the city of Silver. 

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"Rest well Llir I will never forget the kindness and respect you showed my clan and my people." The Mali'Ker thought to his time in Haelun'or remembering his friendship with High Elves. Vival Velu'Asath thought for a moment of how far he had come in his ambitions as he thought of his old ally.

Edited by ColonelKuehl1
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"May the Sohaer rest well, May the Silver State continue to prosper in his wake" Willow would proclaim.

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"Ne can happen more beautiful than death." The Elervathar relished in overwhelming anguish, mourning the loss of a leader whom she had not encountered, or perhaps once-hopeful dream. Few, frail and audible steps echoed in the reticent silence of the Citadel, carried in inattentive path until she reached its center.

 


 

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Seraphite Viradiraar's day started as any other had. A simple: wake up, make some tea, then set out and go whichever way the wind would take her. Though, that one particular morning when she stepped outside, she was stopped by a letter. The 'aheral, ever so curious in nature, stooped down to retrieve the delicate parchment, stepping back inside her residence to read over what it contained.


As she unfurled the letter, she let her gaze drift over the words, her brow furrowing as she read the first sentence. Seraphite, ever the one to never let things affect her too greatly, moved to sit, placing herself rather harshly down at one of the table's chairs. 

 

Soon after, when the sun had fully risen into the sky, the 'aheral would let out a small laugh- one laced with disbelief. She, after having re-read it more times than ever memorable, tightened her grip on the parchment, and watched with grim satisfaction as it crinkled under her hands.

 

"You were the one here that I returned to, Othelu." She muttered, her words spoken more vile than she intended. "You were the one I served under. And while I'm forever grateful-" The mali halted in her words, then stood abruptly as she moved to the door, though paused, her ears twitching as the crackle of fading embers called behind her, the grip she held tight on the parchment somewhat loosening.

 

She didn't leave her house that day, though many could confirm that when they passed, obvious smoke could be seen exiting the chimney. 

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As news about the Sohaer’s illness-induced death propagated through the world, they would eventually reach the ears of Maenor, now camping temporarily on one of Almaris’ many beaches, in a cozy, makeshift tent. The untimely departure of Othelu’s personage gave Maenor cause for celebration. Opening an ancient bottle of Seregon Red, he poured for himself a glass which he lifted upwards as if toasting the sea “Thus always to tyrants.” he said, downing the drink in one go.

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Telos spoke some light curses upon hearing the news. "Why does it have to be Kol?" He questioned. Later that day, he returned to his home in the Silver State to further work on his draft for a proposal. The 'thill found himself hesitant in the words he wrote. "This might prove to be a complication," He finally spoke to himself, only to continue with his draft as if nothing had changed.

Edited by Polysemic
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"Though we did not have the pleasure of meeting face to face come the return of my Talonnii to the State, I have you to thank for it, Othelu Orrar. For that, I am grateful. I know you glued this place together, and held charisma unmatched for the position of Sohaer. May you rest well." A silver haired mali proclaimed, as she finally deemed it time to draw her curtains, and start anew.

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