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THE FLIGHT OF IVARIELLE


Gavin_
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"The pretender made it clear she has no understanding of Haelun'orian philosophy or tradition, or even its governmental structure. Had she been capable of speech beyond that of a mentally deficient bortu she may well have had her claims legitimized in the eyes of the Malauriran, an ancient cultural body far superseding whatever politics may presently grip the city. It is further evident she would rather rely on thugs and their weapons rather than mind and merit; in doing so she profanes the dialectics that form the very fundament of what it mean to be Mali'thill. Her claims were and remain to be baseless, supported solely by foreigners who seek to interrupt a tradition carried forth for millennia in their lust for power."  Eredael mused towards his old companions following the humorous display in the Citadel.

 

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"I do wonder why they permitted two for an escort, I do wonder why they ordered the way out to be locked.. i do so wonder why they forgot to mention they turned people away at the gates." The Princess pondered the nights occurrences from her rather warm bed, looking 'pon the ceiling. She pondered many things that night.. she thought about how Haelun'or would think this meant anything, she thought about what she had eaten earlier that day, she thought about how her family was doing and she thought about painting, she did truly enjoy painting. "I think I might paint my city and practice with the lute." Her shoulders rolled as she did exactly that, humming an ever so pleasant tune.

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A crippled child watches her leave, speaking.

"It's almost like she has no respect for the traditions for the people that she claims right over."

Edited by satinkira
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The prince grimaces as he reads the missive. Then, a laugh erupts from his gullet. "Never did I believe I would wish for the return of the strong 'aheral state. Braxus and his kin are disappointing and sub-elven slavers. Let us pray that they meet their rightful end soon."

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The elder 'ker read the missive, a stifled chuckle sneaking past his lips.

 

"These pompous 'aheral hide behind their missives. It will not save them."

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"And yet, Fenn has thrived despite all odds, what they have accomplished in the near inhospitable place they call home is admirable. They have held their own in battles against evil most in their lifetime could not comprehend. Where as the Silver state has become sloth, an imagery of a decaying state, complacent in their otherwise irrelevant place. They have only themselves to blame, as they are secluded on their island, far from the rest of the sons of Malin. Why should we care for the words of a toothless viper so detached from our people?" Ruathar Indoren would pose the question to his fellow Mali'ker in Nor'asath. "To the rightful leader of 'thill. And a new era for all free thinking mali'thill!" He slammed a goblet into the table, a smile on his face.

 

Edited by Tulan
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Seabreeze looked over the Missive, as Biggie Breeze A.k.a, The Banana Brawler A.k.a, Big Jumbo A.k.a, Public Debate Menace searched and sauntered on that mighty boat with his comrades at his side.  He searched naught for alchemic supplies but instead for a reason to care about this as his bruised back reminded him of something...  And then there was that shadow of a bird looming over his voyager.

A bird, average in size, crested with the mark of a Mali'Thill approaching fast as the Pirate Mage Alchemist Musin withdrew a merry knife, his sword 'a swinging as it crested past the flag and descended towards him!  But it could not expect what was to happen next...


The mouse with its might sword drawn had climbed up the pole with its swiftness and met the bird halfway down, its talons outstretched attempting to catch the mouse as it forgot about the note in tandem, causing it to fall down and fail to procure its meal, and deliver a frugal note.  Instead as the Musin met the Haelun'or Tea Bird in the air, it appeared that it had met its fate at the hands of the Pirate Ninja Alchemist Mage Rat.  

Cut in two it was, sliced by the powerful hand of the Musin as he caught the note whilst landing, his comrade Lint manning the Helm and preventing a collision all the while.  


"Them mofferuckers say Ivarielle the bad guy?!  Maynnnneee last time I got to Haelun'or it was for Tea! Tea! Tea!  I ain't got tea, I got BRUISES!"

The musin readied himself for a belligerent cry as his lungs filled with salt and sewer in this vast sea, he withdrew a Spy Glass as he began to peer into the seemingly infinite horizon of cerulean blue and finally let his little yet mighty call ERUPT!

"THERE WAS NO TEA IN HAELUN'OR!"


The musin bellowed out as he continued giving directions to his comrade, where they were headed exactly was unknown... And the water appeared to be gettin' a bit colder...

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A human woman sat in their home, pondering upon the missive as she sipped upon tea and smoked a wizardly joint.

"It continues to astound me that so many would prefer to cut throats than exchange words - A pathetic world we live in, where we are ruled by war rather than free thought."

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