We Didn't Start The Fire. . .

[UniBearse 922]

Glorier would be coming home after another lesson to one of his many students around Aevos, feeling a sense of fatigue as he hoped to get a good rest with his family, though upon walking through the familiar path he had noticed an absence of a city, an absence of the plant life, and an absence to what he had called home and placed he created a family with. He stood there frozen with nothing else in mind other than to salvage what he could after the Meteor had finally brought down its judgement.

[Kudos 188]

A Kharajyr clung to his shield as he came to what remained, far into the night and alone.  A home he grew fondly of, a place where he first came to know the world of Descendants—whether it was under the name Nor'asath or Nor-Velyth.  The churning winds, the effortless flow of time, had finally caught up to their olden home.  He allowed himself a moment to think, to reminisce, and to grieve for what community he once knew.  Then, so he went.

No longer bound.
A home loss, so that more homes are to come. 
For the Kharajyr, for his pride,
and for many of the people he'd come to know.

Verachone Khyal taking his shield, his banner, and his life for himself again.  And whether or not he'd visit—that was for another day as he came to view Sakuragakure in the distance.  The Shugo and his people, among all the people of Nor-Velyth's home, deserved the best.
 

Spoiler

It's been a long time coming for Nor'asath, and best believe that I'm grateful for everything you've done for this community.  

IKEA HAS FALLEN!

But I'm glad you took the time to look through everything.  To finally settle on an idea that actually I believe no one would've thought of, and making it happen.

LOVE YOU MILK!  As kindly gay as I can say it o7

 

[Venomous_Pup 2978]

There would be a pang of guilt in the stomach of a Wanderer, who wanted to help the Primarch, but every visit she couldn't not find her, nor would fate permit her the time, she'd remark from her own experience of loss, with widen eyes staring at a wall

 

"It is oddly liberating to lose it all. To become utterly unshackled."

[Zhikarta 4064]

 

---

The news quickly spread across various Mali'ker communities, including the Val'taelu. Surrounded by his siblings and cousins he overlooked a shipyard, smiling brightly at the progress the Amador builders had been making. The fall of Nor-Velyth was not something they had anticipated, but not something Aithlin assumed to be detriment to his people. "The Ashen State had already failed long ago. Their empty streets, their lack of identity. There was ne hope left for Nor-Velyth to begin with....but perhaps it's time to seek out the former Primarch, lliran" - "Should she still be alive." Their vessel would soon be complete, and their plans would soon come in motion. Aithlin turned his back on the shipyard and waved his kin along, they would soon have their new home.

[BakedPotato 1020]

A certain orc walked through what remained of the city. She was reminded of fond memories as she lit up a blunt of cactus green.

 

She remembered back to Almaris, recalling old Nor'asath, the first home she ever knew. She recalled such fondness she had, her friends, her family, all the memories she held dear.

 

As she smoked her blunt she was reminded of Acria Jusmia, how Acria tried her damnest to sober her up, get her clean. It had never lasted but she loved Acria for trying. She remembered how at her lowest point Acria had found her and adopted her, helped shaping the person she is today.

 

She was reminded of the Jusmia clan. Her first family she ever knew. She recalled Qudlia, her mentor now passed. A tear was shed for her fallen loved one.

 

And finally she was reminded of all the good times she had with her closest friend, Glorier Maiheiuh, and all the fun times they had with their cult and crayons.

 

"It saddens me to see the mali'ker fall as they have." The uruk spoke, taking another drag from her blunt. "But I fault no one, it was needed. I hope they can move on."

[DizzyGrey 1229]

"..." Narithen sighed as he saw the destruction of his second home. "...Well. That's that then. Guess she couldn't hold it for longer." He murmurs, and starts shifting through the rubble of his home.

[Turbo_Dog 3567]

Spuds, the most detestable once Loa’chil look out and onwards at the ruins. He felt not what he hoped, he thought it would bring him satisfaction a sense of peace seeing the ruins but he felt nothing but a melancholy feeling beset him. Memory clung to him like flies to sugar. Loa’chil trials, His silver cookie necklace he still wore, his many friends he left in his endless pursuit of greed that he would never accomplish in whole. After reminiscing over it all he wandered off back to his home in the rolling hills in the shire.

[cornsoda 115]

When the elfess returned to her house in Cormath, she immediately dropped her satchel near the doorway, headed towards her bedroom. Once she was there, she allowed herself to slump into her seat, burying her head into her hands. Alla spent a good five minutes just sitting there, grieving the loss of her first real home. She finally worked up the gall to say something, anything. "Father help us all..."

[ColonelKuehl1 560]

"Not devil or nation could fell Nor'asath, instead a meteor known as Susan." Part of Netseth felt he would be more displeased... though perhaps it was fated. He would never forget the part he played for his people. A sense of hope still lingered within the old Primarchs heart. He knew they would scatter again though perhaps everything still remained in another's hands as the Warrior lingered in a far away place. 

 

A Goblin stood within the crater on his knees, Zavar looked to a still lingering formerly buried statue of Velulaei as his poncho flowed in the wind, mourning the loss of barrel blarg shouting the very heavens "LAT BLEW IT UP! DAMN LAT DAMN LAT ALL DO DA MOZ!!!!!" 

 

Meanwhile from within the Hexicanium The  Azulyte Warlock formerly a Velulaei'onn known as Ahzek cackled in his newly found horrific form. 

 

Spoiler

Honestly was a great run and happy the city went out with a literal bang. I wish anyone who trys to pick up the mantle of leading the Delves the best of luck and Fun on those better things.  Glad the Delves got a chapter on Lotc where they stood strong and I hope to see another come to pass! GL everyone.

 

 

[greygre 259]

A small gnomish fellow turned through the pages of a book which he'd picked up in Nor'Velyth, long ago.

"What a fascinating piece of literature! I wonder what ever became of this... 'Do lack' place."

Spoiler

<3 love you milk

 

[Fleeperpriest 1484]

Spoiler

 

A suspiciously ancient Harrenite rummaged through his belongings, in an old cottage atop Lemon Hill, searching. He procures a worn, miraculously manifested parchment, and held it up to the light. What was written there still remained, worn, and ripped in several places, surviving only by virtue of its cartoonish size, meticulously, annoyingly folded several times over to account for this. But it was to his supreme satisfaction. It had first come into his custody some hundred years ago, it had felt, perhaps it was less, perhaps it was more. Perhaps it was five hundred years ago, perhaps a thousand. The Essene did not much care for how much time had passed, but that the time was soon to come, that it could even be now was all that dominated his mind-- and only in as much as it was secondary to the mission, that song and dance that drove his every move, and had since anyone could remember the priest to be at all. 

 

He recalled a long forgotten feat, the beginning of his journey, to the day. He recalled a podunk tent-town called Adria, and he recalled Duke Heinrik. He recalled a raid, and the captivity of many. He recalled the inhuman compulsion by which he had set forth into the evil Flay keep, that Fleeper, that auld Essene all alone, in a land his people forgot, to meet an enemy that had forgotten he was. He recalled what was the beginning of so great a song in his mind, so potent a hope, so bright a flame that took to his heart like it were its home and sang to him all that it had wished of him to do. 

 

He thought on the stress that had come over him, as the first missions of so long a quest unfolded themselves, to fit according to a plan he could not fathom. He remembered that she approached him, in that keep, by those bars, and placed the paperclip in his hands. Was she on her way out the door? Was she a captive, or was she that blessed mother, who's life he had there saved, for only some few hours more? Too much stress, too much to think on at once, so he took it to his mouth and CHOMPED. 

 

He recalled the gratitude, then, and the voice he heard. He could hardly make it out over the song, which rang so loud in him, lived its whims so freely that he could hardly hear himself! Natural man and preternatural paperclip made quick work of the supernatural task set out for them.

 

The Duke, he would live a great deal longer. 

The Roach, he would live another day.

His 'beloved', he took for her on his own wrists, a blade meant for their throat.

Little Lorina, who she bore not hours later, who might never have been elsewise.

Young Jan, just eight years old, the last of his line, but it had cost an arm and a leg.

 

 

He stood outside the door, back home in tent-city, young shanty Adria, and he wrestled his Fleeper's prize, Charity's fruit. The song was quiet now, the job was done, he could not have told a soul how it was pulled off. "Just say the word!" he heard, he heard. 

 

Not yet, not now, not for this, this isn't it! It's much too soon, time's not right, the song's not on, I've more to do, mores got to be done! But it never left his mind. 

 

He kept that clip, and wrapped it well. The time would come. They had waited for four hundred years, what was a hundred more? He wanted it perfect, and it was in their nature to oblige. It came out a little munted, sure, but He accounts of margins of error! 

 

He knew the little Flepirs would have their day, when the time was right... They knew they would sing that song and dance that dance, one day! He knew He would keep His word, the promise He made for a covenant He struck for a time that hadn't come yet.

 

 The essene quit his kvetching. For the first time in five hundred years, he had seen just the first rays of the light of the age of the Tzadikim on the rising. Any minute now-- he waits to hear it. That horn that sounded 'WE'RE SO BACK', and down from the clouds, FLEPIR ! She's got wings...

 

But he didn't know about no giant asteroids... 

[amongus 816]

"thank u jenny." Veluc let out a nostalgic sigh at the news of his homeland's passing, memories good and bad able to fade away in time.

[Zemzy_Oakheart 347]

From outside the city walls of Nor'Velyth, the rolling fields of wheat had been turned over some time ago before a simple farfolk farmer returned home from a long journey around the world to think. Ney'La would only now notice the city had fallen.. much like the woman to her knees as she realized her neighbors were gone; she had been away for so long that everything had been turned to rubble, no soul in sight within the remains as she rushed home within the fields-

 

Barren. The livestock had been wiped out at some point, the remains of her small home reduced to rubble like the dreams she had of seeing a family grow within its walls. Ney'La knew it couldn't have been her previous home's doing, the pharaoh lacked the power to do such damage to the city that took them in at the start, despite the friction between the ones they rid from their streets to purify the tainted waters below.

 

For a moment, as she sat knee-deep in the grainy produce - ready to be harvested once more - the farmer prayed to the gods, seeking answers in her solitude of soil. There were no words, only tears, as she eventually picked herself up from the dirt & turned to salvage what she could use to help others in her new journey.... It seems it was not meant for the Rah'mun farmer to attempt being the pharaoh's light outside the walls any longer.

[ThatFunkyBunch 2818]

Gildizeth Jusmia stares with wide eyes as the ship slowly rolls in to see the meteor ravaged land. Yet another one, lost to time.

He spent the next few days traveling by horse-back, reading old scrolls with frowns. It was good to have seen it like it lasted. But as every Maehr settlement, it fades within two hundred years. Without fail. A deeper curse or simply not meant to be? Unity had always been a driving goal. But now the young man pondered on much he had seen and heard.

With the mushroom forest far behind, Gildizeth heads north.

A culture's teachings, and most importantly, the nature of its people, achieve definition in conflict. They find themselves... or find themselves lacking. Every city that fell had proven, the Maehr found themselves lacking. But would it always be so? In dark eons, light flickers to life to help guide a way.

For now, the young writer lays his head back on the bedroll. Letting sandman whisk him away.