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The Capture of the Sohaer


Ryloth
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[!] A leaflet bearing familiar marks measured by the dozens begins to drift through Haelun'or, and is posted about elsewhere in their lands.

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THE CAPTURE OF A SOHAER

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The Sohaer of the Silver State of Haelun'or has been captured. For the acts of razing our village of Aaz Hahdrim, pilfering the treasury of the State and delivering it unto Mankind, emplacing the State beneath foreign rule, and allowing the vassal of Ando Alur to grow greater than your capital, we denounce you, SOHAER KOLVAR URADIR and PATRIARCH of the Uradir Talonnii. This nation shall be delivered to the PEOPLE, and their most greatest shall reign supreme -- or your nation shall fail, once and for all.

 

The time of the Diarchy is over. The time of Silver is gone. Your lands grow stagnant, plagued with the dying wastes of a corruption most blighted, a baleful cataclysm wrought of the Void and yet your people wither, unable to do anything but weep. If still you bend the knee to lesser peoples, if still you cast your ire unto ours, your nation will become nothing more than ash and dust to cake the landscape in rubble and ruin. As Amaethea, it will burn.

 

Begin anew, Mali'thill. Your opportunity is now. But yet walk again the same path, and all will be taken forevermore.

 

~ Hashidiz Al-Drazoth

Herald of Azdromoth

 

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"I did what I had to do," The Acolyte of THE FIRST BORN speaks as he leaves the streets of the Silver Folk. "He had betrayed our people for the last time."

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stood atop a podium in the silver state as he got the missive "it was necessary for change.." he said to himself as he looked over it one more time before turning to the stars. caught up in thoughts.. 

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High Prince Evar'tir Oranor reserves his right to an 'I-told-you-so', regarding the missive. "The plot thickens. I didn't even know they had a plot."

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“Our kind should allow the mad Sohaer to die.” A ageless ‘aheral would say while she sat near the shoreline. 

 

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A young Visaj would glance over the announcement filled parchment with a slight frown. “Dear me, partaking in play things among the Oyashimans

can no longer distract me from the chaos back home; tsk.”

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Prince Amaesil Vuln'miruel reads the missive with a frown. He folds the letter and places it down on the table's edge. "Send condolences to the high elves," he says toward a nearby Warden. "Whatever treachery and kinslaying Haelun'or is guilty of, the man was an elf. He deserves this much."

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Erwin Bishop begins gathering large bags of minas for the ensuing negotiations regarding the former leader's purchase and subsequent execution.

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