AN AFFRONT TO MALIN

[Salvius 409]

The Speaker of the House looked over at a coat which hung within his closet. "It is rather cold up there, I wonder if I should travel North to see why they despise me even though they don't know my name, my face, or my beliefs. Let us see how much of a radical this young prince is." Thucydides pulled out some parchment and ink, writing down something for who knows who.

[Fekr 424]

Akkar read his brothers' declaration of intent, thinking upon the state of the other Mali' races one single quote would come to mind from a past family member, seeing its relevence to the current state of things he spoke it verbally:  "Of all the atrocities commited; none are soo brutal as those originating of incompetance." 

[Javert 9615]

17 minutes ago, Qaz_The_Great said:

Alric reads the missive, he'd turn to Prince Ragnvald and state,

 

"Well cousin, it seems the Mali'fenn make steps to reclaim the long abandoned Mantle of Malin, as they put it, and form a real Elven Realm for Malin's Children. Whilst the Snow Elves labor for a better tomorrow for their people and the security of their Realm, many other Elves seem to have sold themselves and their own people for the attainment of wealth and status. Let us hope the Mali'fenn's labor is not for a lost cause."

Ragnvald turned and nodded to Alric

 

"That they are. Quite frankly, I would love to see the Mali'fenn wrip the others a new one, especially those imperial elves. After all, from what I have seen, the Ivae'fenn are the most ferocious fighting force of the Elven realms."

[Unwillingly 18103]

"At least some folk have the brains to understand the danger these insects pose." Brother Wildfire grins with satisfaction upon reading the missive. "But I am not surprised, that it was the mali'fenn who first stepped forth. They are brave, where others are cowardly."

[Isvinity 729]

Underfoot a compilation of ribboned clothes and ribboned skin lays steaming in the snow, blood coagulating under the fallen Archigilant's fingernails. She can taste the conflict between every beat of the 'fenn's heart and the undulating pulse of red spilling down her chin. Determination at odds with ruin; life opposite death. A smear of bloodline crimson is left in a hand-shaped print 'pon the missive pinned to Birth. Jagged teeth, slick with feed, part to address another: "Their hunt has been muzzled for now, but frightened dogs rarely lose their hunger for flesh finer than their own. When the time comes — may they take solace in facing defeat at the hands of Wyrvun's betters."

[Altered 82]

A 'fenn read over the missive quietly taking a sip of wine in the process. "Those who submit to the will of another species are weak and an affront to Mali. Those who continue should be branded with shame that their own selfishness lead them to oppose their own." She shook her head, setting the missive on her desk and walked off.

[NolandTheNovice 276]

The Vigilant of Resolve sat within his study and peered down at the missive, reading of the failures of his elven "kin" in disgust. "Ever the weak." Shaking his head, he set the paper into the fire. "Let their meek display kindle the wills of the strong."

[Caelria 2619]

John was still a young man, and he had never seen an elven war, but he knew that the title the missive bore at least one article of fact. Implicit not necessarily in its words, which were of a political rather than factual nature, but rather in its signature. Remnants. So were all elves remnants. Long forgotten Princes and Princesses laying claim to titles long since swept beneath the shifting sands of time. Elves lived human lives now, their cultures no longer so different from the short-lived humanity to which they thought themselves so superior. In truth, the Imperial elves and those in the elven city-states were nigh indistinguishable except in the point of their liege's ears.

 

The question, in this progressive age, was as simple as how the elves identified.

Matters of elven pride,

their true curse beyond even that of their supposed infertility.

Like dwarven greed, 

orcish wrath,

and human envy.

 

He spared a moment's thought to the elven manor on the borders of Savoy, a moment's regard to the desperate pleas of the Imperial elves, a moment's consideration for the peoples of the elven city-states so desperately clinging to a past that had long escaped their eternally youthful fingertips...

 

...But only a moment's, for John was still a young man, and his short life gave him little time to spare on such trivial things. That, his inner monologue mused, was a problem for elvenkind. A saying from his family came to mind, for the briefest of seconds:

 

"Those who keep one eye on the past and one towards the future will forever be blind to the present."

 

John hoped, somewhere inside his pitted bandit's heart, that the elves could one day swallow their pride and reconcile their differences both among themselves and with the humankind that they had for so long regarded as intruders on their world. That, he thought, would be a present indeed.